11...

The Pima standing in the doorway sucked in a breath, aware in a way that she hadn’t been since

entering the Tower what was real and what wasn’t. Perhaps because she couldn’t remember this trip, this

day. It had to have been dragged up from the deepest reaches of her mind. She couldn’t be imagining this.

There was no reason for the Tower to show this, other than for honesty’s sake.

This wasn’t the story she remembered being told. It started well enough like it, but the words

became too harsh, the voice too pained. Too realistic. Her mother had always spoken about her father’s

role in building the Tower. She’d never mentioned that she’d had a connection to it.

She must have decided at one point to try to remove the worst details, little good it’d done. Now

Pima stood here, in the Time Tower, stuck in the harsh reality of time. And she longed for it to be magic,

an illusion.

She watched the mother in her memory lay her hand over her chest, and the sight was so familiar,

although she’d never seen it on her mother, that she knew what was coming next.

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Her voice had steadily grown softer as her tone sharpened with bitterness.

“It was horrible. And it couldn’t be undone. Not alone. So I took it.” Her hand clenched the bulge

under her dress. With a quick flick of her eyes right, left, she threw out an arm to stop Akish and stepped

closer.

“This is the truth. I took it”---she pulled out a key with a sun symbol marked with a red gemstone

on the handle, took it off, and held it out for Pima to take---“from the Tower, from your father. I hid it. I

couldn’t trust anyone else to keep it. Now it’s harmless. Useless. Except as a reminder. A dangerous

reminder. You cannot undo. You cannot. You can only move forward and try...try...”

She shook her head as if the rest of her sentence was stuck in her throat and she could shake it

free. Akish’s grip on little Pima’s legs tightened, and he took half a step back.

All of a sudden, Mother stopped, and her eyes grew clearer, her gaze nearer and sharper. A look of

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horror passed over her face and was gone in the blink of an eye.

“I can take her, if you need…”

“No. I’ve got her. But we should make sure the horse doesn’t wander.”

Her head jerked like a bird as she nodded. “Yes, you’re right.” Her story and the key were

forgotten for the time being. “We need to head east, away from the marsh, and our neighbors…”

“My turn. Have I ever told you about the time Dad took me camping by Azure lake? It was just the

two of us. You weren’t born yet, and---”

“Akish?”

“Hmmm?” He turned his head to try to look back at little Pima, but she leaned forward and

wrapped her arms around his neck. “Is Mom okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, she’s fine. It’s the marsh fog. It can make your brain kind of funny. We just need to

get further away from the Tower, someplace with fresh air.”

Little Pima squeezed the key in her hand, hard enough to cut the impression of the rising sun on

the handle into her palm, and laid her head against her brother’s shoulder. If Akish said it would be

alright, it would be.

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Pima clenched her hand tighter, feeling the bite of the key against her skin, and stared at

the retreating forms of Akish - strong Akish - and her mother, still mumbling to herself.

The guardian placed a hand on her shoulder. It wasn’t quite substantial, but it held

weight more or less. Pima hated that it held some comfort in it as well.

She shifted, and the figure dropped its hand. It spoke. “You should listen to your mother,

Pima. It didn’t work. It never does. It never will. Trapped. Trapped in time. You can’t turn back

the clock. You can’t turn the hourglass back over. You can’t…”

Its eyes implored hers as it babbled on, confusing her train of thought. “...even you. You

can’t. You might as well---”

“Might as well what? Go back? Can I, or have I already climbed too far?” Pima pressed a

hand over her eyes. She was beginning to feel lightheaded again. Like everything around her

was moving, but so was she, floating up towards the ceiling, the ceiling of time, the top.

“The top!” She dropped her hand, and her eyes traveled up the long flight of stairs before

her. They were dark, the steps less eager to shine and show her the path. How close now?

“Are you trying to make me go back? Or are you pushing me forward? Telling me I can’t.

That it’s impossible, even for me. You’re egging me on. Or - I know.” She took a step, left hand

on the wall, right hand to her chest, and poised on one foot over the next step. “You’re trying to

twist my mind into knots. You want me to sit down and stay here and get lost in time with you. Is

that it, brother? Is it?”

She was aware that she wasn’t making much sense, and the shadowy figure wasn’t

going to answer her, and she took another heavy leaden step forward.

“I can’t stop you,” the figure said. “Until you are stopped. But I will stay with you.”