Chapter 140

The towers loomed overhead - tall, bright, and impossible to understand. Each one had dozens of doors, each door its own entrance to something different. Signs hung above them in bold lettering. I could read Trade Tongue just fine, but the words didn’t mean anything to me.

I followed my nose as much as my eyes. Bela Koru and Saffra 9 smelled like herbs and food, though not like anything I recognized. Kaya Drift had groups of people lying on the floor, lifting their legs into the air. Velin Co. might have been a tailor - at least for men. Vera Lune displayed pictures of women with all kinds of hair, and the windows were filled with wigs. CVA Group had rows of people sitting at desks, staring blankly at nothing. VLM had people running in place or sitting in strange chairs, pulling ropes attached to nothing I could see.

It felt like each room held a different purpose - for anything you could imagine. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find one dedicated entirely to standing on your head or washing your feet. Or maybe standing on your head while washing your feet.

When the lights changed, I crossed the road toward the place the man had called a bank. The first room I entered was mostly empty. A few people sat in soft chairs, and a woman sat behind a wide, curved desk.

“Excuse me,” I said. “Is this the bank?”

She looked at me, puzzled. “No, that’s next door.” She pointed to the left.

“Thank you.” I stepped back outside and into the next room.

This one had a massive desk that stretched across the entire space, so tall I had to rise onto my toes to see over it. Three people stood behind it, half-hidden by the strange, crenellated edges. Chairs in the middle of the room looked like they were carved from gray stone, but when I touched one, it gave under my hand - soft and squishy. A few people sat in them, staring into their glowing black rectangles.

Glass rooms lined both sides of the space, each with its own desk inside. Only one of them was occupied.

I approached the large desk. “Is this the bank?” I asked, peering over the edge.

“It is,” one of the women said, not looking up. Her attention was fixed on a flat, framed surface in front of her. Her fingers moved quickly over a gray board, producing a steady clacking sound. I didn’t think it was an instrument because the clacking wasn’t rhythmic and it would just be weird to play an instrument in a bank.

After a moment, she looked up and smiled. “How can I help you?”

Her skin was a deep, rich brown - like dark soil after rain. Her eyes were nearly black, her hair falling in soft, perfect curls darker than Ashie’s. She was beautiful in a way I couldn’t describe.

Thren had said there were only humans here, but I’d never seen one like her.

“Miss?” she prompted gently.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “Do you exchange money?”

“Yes,” she replied. “We accept all currencies. We can convert to U.S. dollars, euros, yen, pounds, Canadian dollars…”

“What do you use here?” I asked.

She hesitated, clearly confused. “U.S. dollars,” she said at last.

“Can I have some of those?” I reached into my pocket, pulled out the six gold coins I had left, and set them carefully on the desk.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “One minute,” she said, retreating through a door behind her. Another woman peeked out briefly, her eyes flicking to me, then disappeared again.

When the first woman returned, she gathered up the coins and gently handed them back. “Why don’t you have a seat over there,” she said, her voice softer now, touched with concern. “We’ll have someone help you in just a moment.”

“Okay,” I said, though I wasn’t sure why she would be concerned. I climbed into one of the strange chairs. My feet barely reached the floor.

A few minutes later, the man from one of the glass rooms came out to meet me.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Steve, the branch manager. If you’ll follow me, we’ll see what we can do to help you.”

He was tall - almost as tall as thren - but much thinner. His brown hair was carefully arranged, like he waxed it in place. He smelled strongly of perfume.

I followed him into the glass room.

He closed the door behind us, gestured to a green chair shaped like a pea pod, and sat behind his desk. The desk was simple - metal at the base, wood on top - and cluttered with papers, the same gray board, and another framed surface.

I hesitated, then sat. This chair fit me better.

“So,” he said, folding his hands. “What can we do for you today, miss?”

“Lilae,” I said. “My name is Lilae. I wanted to exchange some coins. The woman out there said you could give me you ess dollars for these.” I placed the gold coins on his desk.

“Wow,” he murmured. “Do you mind if I take a look?”

“Sure.”

He picked one up, turning it over in his fingers. “Heavy,” he said quietly. Then, “Where did you get these?”

“My thren gave them to me. I earn money doing chores around the keep.”

He looked up at me. “Does this… Thren take care of you?”

I nodded. “Yes. Thren, vaer, Ashie, Serah, and Elise. They take care of all of us.”

“All of you?” he repeated. “How many?”

“Fifteen,” I said. “But only eight of us live at home now. Elarion went to live with his cousin. Vel, Thae, Clo, Moss, Tansy, and Nim moved out. They still visit sometimes though.”

He studied me carefully over the coin in his hand. “Are you okay?”

“Oh.” I glanced down at myself. “My dress? I ripped it climbing out of the Gallows.”

“The… gallows?”

“Yeah. Tansy said if I went through it, I could see this world. Thren is from here. He said it was dangerous, but most people I've met seem nice. The man sleeping on the walking path was very kind when I gave him food.”

“Where are your parents?”

“At home. Tansy and I snuck out, but I can’t find her.”

“And Tansy is…”

“My sister.”

“How old is she?”

“Four and a half. She’ll be five in Bloodrise.”

“Blood… rise?” he echoed faintly.

I nodded. “She shares a birthday with thren.”

“Do your parents have an account here?” he asked, still smiling, though it looked strained now.

“Thren might. But vaer, Ashie, Serah, and Elise have never been here.”

“Do you know Thren’s last name?”

“Grimm.”

He tapped at the gray board, frowning slightly. “Thren Grimm…”

“No, Seth Grimm,” I corrected. “He’s my thren, but his name is Seth.”

“What is a ‘thren’?”

“Father,” I said. “In Brel. I call him thren because I didn’t speak much Trade Tongue when we met.”

“And when did you meet him?”

“About five years ago. He rescued me from trolls after my parents died.”

“…after your parents died.” His expression tightened - confusion giving way to concern.

“Yeah. Bad men killed them. The trolls kidnapped me. Then thren and the others saved me.”

“And your four-and-a-half-year-old sister is missing.”

I nodded. “She’ll be okay.”

“Excuse me,” he said, standing. “I need to check on something. I’ll be right back.”

* * *

In the end, it was Mirri, Ashlara, Serah, the ferals, and me who would go. Seven gods. A draconic demi-god. An incredible healer. And the toughest tank I knew.

I hoped it would be enough. I hoped it wouldn’t be for nothing.

Elise, Grams, Torvek, and the rest of the kids would stay behind - just in case Lilae found her way home on her own.

Tansy would show Elise and Grams how to open the Weeping Gallows, how to coax it into forming the bridge between worlds. If Lilae came back, they’d be able to reach us.

We gathered what we needed for a rescue.

Unity was the latest - and strongest - thing I’d made, but it wasn’t the only one.

Mirri’s gear came first. Goblins didn’t usually wear armor so I made hers light. A fitted vest and a thick leather skirt, dyed a deep green and worked through with flowing knotwork. It wasn’t indestructible, but it didn’t need to be. It would turn most things - fire, frost, blades, blunt **** - into something survivable.

Her wand was willow, simple and elegant, tipped with a crystal Iolite had given me from her home. It was tuned to Mirri’s magic, letting her draw more power with less effort. Probably useless where we were going - but it was still hers. It was what she reached for when things turned violent.

Ashlara’s kit was heavier.

An axe of starmetal - dark, dense, and intimidating. The blade held an edge that would never dull. The back spike was barbed and wicked, the kind of thing that made you rethink your life choices the moment you saw it coming at you.

A matching shield - triangular, but tilted, its point running along her forearm instead of down. Built to strike as much as defend. The face bore her family mark - a broken spear. But she’d changed it. A vine bound the halves together, and a flame burned beneath it.

Not broken anymore. Reforged.

The enchantment reinforced the metal and pushed its protection outward, extending beyond its edges - just enough to matter.

Her breastplate was mythril - light and flexible - made to move with her instead of restricting. I’d etched a stylized ‘A’ over her heart. The enchantment strengthened the armor and her - boosting her already ridiculous strength.

Serah didn’t really need anything. As a dragon, she was already a **** of nature. But that didn’t stop me.

I made her bracers - mythril scales threaded together with silver. Dozens of them, shifting and flexing as one. When she changed, the threads stretched, expanding to fit her larger form - spreading into a lattice across her body. The enchantment turned incoming **** back on itself - redirecting strikes and energy.

The ring was simpler. A band of gold set with the purest diamond I could find. It held a reservoir of power for her to draw from and fed itself by drinking in ambient mana. A steady supply. A safety net.

I’d made things for the others, too.

A perfect sphere of crystal for Elise. Blades for Torvek, Brinja, and Mak. A bow for Elarion. Daggers for Issa, Lilae, and Tib. Armor and protection tailored to each of them.

I didn’t know if any of it would matter where we were going, but it might just give us an edge. And right now, I’d take anything.

When we were ready, we gathered in the bailey. I opened the wall around the Weeping Gallows again, the stone parting under my will.

The whispers of the Gallows reached out to us, but we ignored them.

Tansy stepped forward and showed us how to coax the tree into opening, into forming that impossible bridge between worlds. She was strangely subdued as she did.

Elise and Grams practiced until they could do it without hesitation. Again and again, until the motions were sure.

We checked everything one last time. Said our goodbyes. Then stepped into the dull red glow.

* * *

Steve was gone for a while, speaking quietly with the woman behind the desk.

Eventually, another man came in - older and dressed all in black with a strange, flat-topped hat. He was bald, and a heavy belt hung around his waist, cluttered with tools I didn’t recognize.

Steve spoke with him in low tones, glancing toward me more than once.

A slow, creeping feeling settled in my stomach. I thought I might be in trouble. I just couldn’t figure out what I’d done.

After a moment, the man in black approached. He opened the glass door and stepped inside, closing it behind him without a sound.

“Hi,” he said, lowering himself onto one knee. His joints popped in a way that made me wince. “Your name’s Lilae, right?”

I nodded.

“I’m Officer Jenkins,” he said, smiling. It was a kind smile - but the way he looked at me reminded me of Grams when I scraped my knee. Careful. Measuring. Like he was trying to decide how bad it was.

“Where are your parents, Lilae?”

A sharp crackle burst from somewhere on him, followed by a muffled voice. I jumped.

He lifted a hand to a small, round box clipped to his chest, connected by a coiled strip that curled like a piglet’s tail.

“Unit twelve, ten twenty-three. On scene. Welfare check,” he said, tilting his head slightly.

The voice crackled again.

“Copy.” He let go of the box.

“What was that?” I asked. “Who were you talking to? Is there someone invisible here?”

“It’s just the radio,” he said. “Letting dispatch know I’m here.”

“What’s a radio?”

He blinked. “You don’t know what a radio is?”

I shook my head. “Thren said you have a lot of things that look like magic, but aren’t.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Where are your parents?”

“They’re at home,” I told him.

“Do you know the address?”

I raised my eyebrow. “You mean where home is?”

“Yeah.”

“In the keep in Highstone.” I smiled.

“…Highstone,” he repeated. “Where’s that?”

“In my world,” I said. “I came here through a Weeping Gallows. Tansy opened it for me. The thorns tore my dress.” I held up the tattered edges.

“Uh huh,” He nodded like he understood - even though I didn’t think he did. “And Tansy is your sister?”

“Yeah.”

“And you don’t know where she is?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. I didn’t see her come out of the tree.”

“Where was this tree?” His voice stayed gentle, but there was more concern behind it now.

“In the little forest down the street.” I pointed back the way I’d come.

“What does Tansy look like?”

“She’s shorter than you,” I said. “Dark hair, with a wooden butterfly barrette. Her skin looks sunburnt, but that’s just how she is. Oh, and she has red eyes.”

He reached for the radio again. “Unit twelve. I’ve got a possible missing child, Rittenhouse Square. Four or five years old. Dark hair.” He hesitated. “Possibly… sunburnt.”

The voice crackled back. I caught a few words this time, but not enough to understand.

“Copy,” he said again.

He looked back at me. “How old are you, Lilae?”

“Fourteen.”

“Do you want to take a ride with me in my car?”

“Where?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“I’ve got some friends who can help us look for Tansy.”

I studied him for a moment. “Are you saying that, but really you’re going to kidnap me and use me for sex stuff?”

“What?” He blinked, clearly startled - and then let out a short laugh. “No. I promise you, Lilae. I’m not going to kidnap you and use you for sex stuff.”

“That’s exactly what you would say if you were going to kidnap me and use me for sex stuff.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, still smiling. “That’s… fair,” he admitted. “But it’s also what I’d say if I wasn’t.”

I narrowed my eyes further, considering that. “…That’s true.” I nodded once. “Okay. We can go find your friends and look for Tansy.” I paused. “But if you try any sex stuff, I’ll burn your pecker off.”

“Fair enough,” he said without missing a beat, pushing himself back to his feet.

I hopped down from the chair and followed him out.