The tower.

  White. So white. Immense. Impossibly tall.

  It dominated the square like a finger pointed at the gods, and at its summit a blue flame burned ethereal, impossible, alive.

  A red moon framed it from behind. Swollen like overfull flesh. Too close. The sky was black: not the black of night, but a black that absorbed everything. Dark. Dense.

  The tower swayed.

  No.

  It swayed again.

  "It's…"

  "...IT'S GOING TO FALL!"

  ***

  "...ek. Arek!"

  I blinked. Someone was gripping my shoulder. A familiar touch, warm. Shaking me with energy, but gently.

  High sun and suffocating heat hit me like a wall.

  The market. Smell of bread and sweat and spices I didn't know. Voices overlapping. A confused, indistinct murmur. Where am I? What happened?

  The tower was there. Still there. Standing straight.

  White as polished bone, its surface reflecting sunlight until it hurt to look at. It soared beyond the lower clouds, perfect, intact, and at the summit…

  Nothing. No flame.

  Just white stone and, at the top, what looked like windows narrow as arrow slits.

  Beautiful.

  Cold climbed up my back, like icy fingers tracing my spine. Vertebra by vertebra.

  Terrifying.

  “It’s day?” I murmured.

  "Of course it's daytime. And what's this? A tear? You're crying."

  Mom's voice came from far away, muffled. The world was reassembling itself with colors, sounds, the warmth of the sun. But the echo of that vision remained, cold, like icy fingers that wouldn't let go.

  Her warm thumb rubbed my cheek, nail scratching slightly.

  Only then did I notice my skin was wet.

  "Arek, did something get in your eye?"

  I wanted to answer. I wanted to say yes, just dust, nothing Mom, but my tongue was heavy, my throat tight.

  "Arek, champ!" Dad's big hand shook my shoulder again. I recognized that warm pressure. His voice loud and distant at the same time.

  "Hey, champ. What's wrong? You feeling okay?"

  I brought a hand to my eyes, rubbing them with thumb and forefinger. Light came back into focus. Market sounds returned, clear, real.

  "Y-yeah."

  Her lips landed on my forehead. Cool, damp, gentle. "You don't seem to have a fever." She moved back further, gaze searching. "Better go home."

  "No, really Mom." Words came out fast. "Just... thinking. And I got distracted. That's all."

  I wasn't actually thinking about anything. I didn't remember thinking about anything.

  "Sure?"

  "Yeah." Dad answered for me, his voice full of that certainty he always had. "He's strong. Right, champ?"

  "Tarin, I didn't ask you."

  Her eyes pinned him in place. For a moment Dad seemed to shrink. Then she turned toward me and her face opened and all the tension of recent months melted into an expression that was pure love. Unconditional.

  My knees gave.

  "Don't worry, Mom."

  Words came out before I could stop them, a lump in my throat, and then my arms moved on their own, throwing themselves around her neck. Her warm, welcoming scent wrapped around me and I think I shed another tear. I'm not sure.

  "I love you, Mom."

  The dream was distant, confused, forgotten. But the cold in my stomach remained.

  "What about me?"

  "Tarin!" Mom scoffed.

  I laughed. I don't know why, but I laughed.

  "You too, Dad."

  "Good!" His hands clapped together with a sharp sound that made a couple people turn. "Then let's go buy these outrageously expensive tomatoes your mom wants and get out of here. The heat is melting me!"

  I started to answer, but all the air left my lungs when, without warning, Dad lifted me and hoisted me onto his shoulders. Legs straddling his neck, fingers instinctively gripping his hair.

  "Whoa…" A pole holding up one of the awnings grazed my head.

  "Dad, watch out!"

  "How's the view from up there?"

  "Da-dangerous."

  "Perfect. Let's go."

  I don't think he heard me.

  She studied me for a long moment, too intense.

  "What is it, Mom?"

  "Nothing." The word came after silence. Thick. Heavy. "Nothing, sweetheart."

  Then Tarin started moving. Each step a jolt. Up, down, up, down.

  I raised my gaze: the tower was still there. Immense, impossible to ignore. It played hide-and-seek between the merchants' awnings, while reflections of sunlight danced on my face, carved out by the stalls' shadows.

  "It's so tall, Dad! How can it be so tall and not fall?"

  A shiver ran through my body. Brief. For no reason.

  "What?" His voice resonated against my chest. "Ah, you mean the tower? I don't know, son. That's Elf stuff. We're just humans and we can't build things like that."

  "Elves?" The word was strange and familiar at the same time. It tickled my tongue. "Like the ones you were talking about before with that lady?"

  "No, no. The ones who built this tower are the Forest Elves. See that symbol?"

  He pointed toward the tower, about halfway up. I squinted. His arm pointed... where? We weren't aligned and sunlight reflected on the white surface, blinding me.

  "Mm... no. What?"

  "There, about halfway. There are lots of relief designs, but they're too small to see from down here. Except one. The big one, that wraps all the way around. See it?"

  I squinted harder. White surface gleamed, almost pulsed, and then—yes. There was a design. A relief running along the tower, serpentine.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  "Yes! A... a lizard with... what does it have on its head?"

  "Ha ha ha!" Dad's laugh made me bounce. "That's a dragon, champ. And it has deer antlers on its head."

  "Ohhh."

  A dragon! Cool!

  "Dad, but why a dragon with deer antlers? And why did the elves build a tower right here in our city?"

  "It's their god or something like that. They come here to do a ritual every six or seven red moons."

  "Six or seven, Dad?" I counted on my fingers. One red moon every six years, times six...

  "Now hold on a minute, I need to stop your mother from squandering all our money on vegetables!"

  "Fruit," Mirina corrected absently as she walked ahead of us, shoulders straight, head high.

  "Fruit? I thought you wanted to make that red sauce to put on flatbread. Not jam."

  She turned her head just enough to show the smile printed on her lips.

  "Let's remember the fish before we go home."

  "Funny..."

  They talked, my gaze searched around, but always fell on the tower. It had an allure. Almost a call. Like it wanted me to watch.

  Between one awning and another, I followed it with my eyes.

  It rose from above a hill beyond the square, still in the middle of the city, where an enormous five-sided building stood surrounded by sturdy, thick, dark walls. The Stronghold. I'd seen it before, many times. It was the residence of Count Astermond, who gave his name to the city and county.

  I always saw the tower too. You could see it from any point in the city where you glimpsed a slice of sky. At least for those who glanced in that direction.

  Dad said you could see the tower from the hills outside the city, long before spotting the walls.

  "Every time I see that tall, narrow tower, I know if I hurry, I'll be home for dinner by evening," he'd told me once.

  Yet today it had something particular about it. Like... like...

  My torso pulsed and I closed one eye from the discomfort.

  Or itching?

  Wrong. But what?

  "Good morning, Mervyn. Did they arrive?" Mom spoke even before reaching the stall she was looking for.

  A young chestnut-haired boy with an eager smile bowed slightly at the sight of her.

  "Dear Mirina. Yes, of course! I already prepared them for you." He turned, but before he could leave Tarin stopped him.

  "Wait, wait." Dad made me climb down from his shoulders and assumed that pose he always used when he had to discuss serious business: broad shoulders, arms crossed, chin raised. "How much are you making me spend today, Mervyn?"

  The boy turned again, rubbing his hands in a practiced merchant's gesture that contrasted with his young age.

  "As you know, sir, um, Mirina's husband, this vegetable comes from another continent and…"

  "Fruit," Mom said, but gestured for him to continue with a rotating open hand.

  That was my signal.

  Fruit? Vegetables? Boredom. Boring boredom.

  I took two steps back, scanning for something to do.

  "Mom, can I go see the fountain?" I pointed to a circular structure in the center of the square, not far away.

  She studied me for a long moment.

  She's searching. Fever. Tiredness. Something.

  "Yes, dear. But stay where I can see you. We might take a while here." Her blue eyes flicked twice in Dad's direction.

  I smiled and turned, leaving discussions of vegetables and fruit behind me.

  About twenty steps to the fountain. Maybe less. Stalls scrolled past on either side as I walked: smells of fish and fruit mixing and then disappearing behind me.

  Simple, with a fairly high wall surrounding it. Stone smooth and warm under my hands.

  "One, two... threee."

  My arms gave out before I could pull myself all the way up.

  "Again. Come on, Arek!"

  On the second try I managed to hoist myself up and sit on the edge.

  Hard under my legs. Warm from the sun.

  "Yes!"

  Nothing special. Water flowing, clear and fresh. In the center, a statue of a rearing winged unicorn, wings spread to the sides, horn on its forehead, mouth open from which water gushed in a continuous arc.

  The usual fountain you saw pretty much everywhere. At the port. In front of the main cathedral. It was the symbol of the city and it was everywhere: flags, standards, the uniforms of the City-watch.

  Under the unicorn, an inscription in the stone.

  I squinted.

  Letters danced. Or was it my eyes?

  I need... I need... I need to learn to read! This is what I need.

  I stood up on the low wall, arms spread for balance.

  Colors, sounds, smells overwhelmed me all at once. But the most beautiful thing was certainly the spectacle of the sun-lit square.

  Five sides, obviously, surrounded by buildings of stone and brick, orange roofs and large porticoes glimpsed between the colorful stalls.

  The great white tower was still there, always staring at me.

  From the side facing the tower, where people in the most colorful clothes walked slowly and unhurried, came smells I'd never encountered: sweet, spiced, strange.

  I spun around, letting the colors and smells surround me.

  Beautiful!

  Peaceful, maybe.

  A splash hit me in the back. Sound first, then sensation.

  Shivers of cold ran through my whole body.

  Icy, heavy water ran down my back, legs, feet. Fabric stuck to my skin and shivers climbed up my spine.

  Small streams ran over my body chasing each other, passing down my legs, sliding over the wall until they reentered the basin.

  Laughter exploded behind me, coarse and shrill.

  I turned, dripping. Teeth so clenched I could almost taste blood on the tip of my tongue.

  Two boys definitely older than me, and a girl about my age were laughing their heads off from the other side of the stone circle.

  One of them, the tall, thin one with bright green glints in his hair, held his hand raised, and above it floated an irregular, shimmering bubble of water.

  Droplets fell from the bubble at irregular intervals, wetting the sleeve of his yellow robe.

  "Hahahah, you hit him dead-on, Guts!" said the chubby one beside him.

  "Great ai-aim, boss!" The girl's cheeks were red from laughing. She held her stomach with her hands and her laugh was the most annoying.

  A guard in blue and white armor passed behind them. He turned, saw me completely soaked and laughed. Strands of hair escaping from the sides of the helmet were cast in dark green shadows.

  "Hahaha, nice shot, kid!" he said, and kept walking like nothing happened.

  Thanks for the help, huh.

  The skinny boy threw the other bubble at me. "Take this too, blondy!"

  "Not so fast, buddy!" I raised my hand. I took a step forward ready to channel energy from my fingers to catch the sphere mid-flight and under my left foot…

  …nothing. Empty air.

  I fell forward with a broken cry. "Hel…!"

  Splash.

  I can't swim! My heart exploded. Water entered my mouth when I tried to speak. Arms flailed… Oh. My feet could touch.

  The world transformed from cold, muffled water to air again. Coughing. Water burning in my lungs.

  "Ahahahah, did you see that idiot? He wanted to dodge the water and fell in! What a loser!" shouted Guts to the other two.

  Anger rose, hot, burning.

  I stood up, water to my waist.

  Surface trembled around me. Circles widening faster and faster, one after another.

  Heat in my hands. Tingling along my arms.

  This feeling. About to explode.

  "I'll show you who's the idiot."

  I raised my hand toward the children.

  Water around me churned, circles had become small waves.

  Boiling inside. Hot, powerful. Like water wanting to get out as if the water god himself…

  "Arek Grey!!"

  My mother's voice sliced through the air like a knife.

  The heat in my hands didn't fade. It changed.

  I spun around. Mom was there at the edge of the fountain, her face white with fury.

  And my hand, my hand was still stretched toward the children. Still full of that pressure wanting to get out.

  Stop. Stop right now.

  Yet anger kept burning. And the water… Water was obeying me.

  It rose. All at once. Not droplets. Not ripples. A wave that swelled, climbing, following my outstretched hand as if tied to invisible strings.

  No. Too much. Stop…

  I yanked my hand back. Fast. Instinctive.

  And water followed.

  CRACK.

  The sound hit before I realized what had happened.

  The wave, thick, heavy, uncontrolled, had followed my movement when it was abrupt. It slammed into the statue at the center.

  The unicorn's horn. White marble. Perfect until a second ago.

  It snapped at the base.

  It fell.

  Slowly.

  Splash.

  The sound died as water settled, suddenly calm, as if nothing had happened.

  Spray hit my already wet face.

  My fingers still pulsed. Like something under my skin was searching for exits it couldn't find.

  Everyone stared at the fountain. Then at me.

  The kids weren't laughing anymore. The skinny one had his mouth open and the girl had hidden behind the chubby one. Their eyes looked like they'd seen a ghost.

  The guard who'd laughed before had stopped, bringing his hand to his sword.

  Mom was motionless. Her face white. Sweat on her forehead, small drops that gleamed.

  Dad was already there, hands grabbing me under the armpits, pulling me out of the water with a force that hurt.

  "We're leaving right now. We'll settle accounts at home."

  He set me down and my shoes hit the square's pavement with a thud. Cobblestones absorbing water dripping from my clothes.

  He assumed the pose he'd taken with the tomato vendor. Broad shoulders, arms crossed, chin raised. His "serious business" pose he'd also used with the merchant.

  He fixed his eyes on me. Not with anger. With disappointment. His eyes were narrowed, his lips a thin line.

  That hurt more.

  "Now…"

  "Hold it right there." The shout came from behind the fountain.

  My heart burst in my chest.

  The guard didn't seem in the mood to laugh anymore.