The Tower of Endless Worlds

by Jonathan Moeller

The gloomy warehouse looked long-abandoned. A thin layer of dust covered the floor, marred by occasional footprints. Stacks of enormous empty crates lined the walls, and flickering security lights cast dancing shadows everywhere. Simon looked around, Katrina’s weight filling his shoulders with aching pain. He could see no other door.

  “Conmager,” he rasped.

  Conmager ignored him and limped towards a stack of crates. Ally padded at his side, a wriggling Lithon in her arms.

  “Conmager!” said Simon, huffing as he tried to catch the wounded man. Conmager turned, eyes glinting in his bloodstained face. “There’s no way out. We’ve run into a dead end.”

  Conmager nodded. “That’s what you are supposed to think. That is what they are supposed to think.”

  “What?” said Simon.

  “Hurry,” said Conmager, his voice quavering. Simon wondered if Conmager had taken internal injuries. “Time grows short.”

  Conmager lifted his staff and struck a large enough to hold a small house. The crate’s side swung inward. Simon saw a trapdoor on the floor within the crate. Conmager rapped his staff against the trapdoor. It swung open, revealing a steep staircase descending into the darkness.

  “The tunnel opens into an abandoned sector of the sewer system,” said Conmager. “I have painted arrows showing the route to a small park about a mile and a half from here. There are several flashlights and spare batteries at the bottom of the stairs.”

  Simon scowled. “Is this your great plan? A secret tunnel? It’ll take the winged demons five minutes to find this!” He gestured at the dusty floor. “All they have to do is follow our footprints.”

  “Go now,” said Conmager. He pushed Simon into the crate. Ally stepped inside, staring at Conmager with sad eyes.

  Simon gaped. “You’re…you’re staying? But they’ll kill you!”

  “Perhaps,” said Conmager. “Most likely. In any case, I will buy you time to escape with the King and your betrothed.” He smiled. “And Ally, as well. She is a special child, though I cannot see to what purpose. Take care of her, Simon Wester.”

  “You idiot!” said Simon. “You’ll die in vain. They’ll shoot you to pieces and come right after us.”

  “They will have no reason,” said Conmager, his voice quiet, “to come after you.”

  Simon blinked. “But…” Then the memory returned. “A desperate last chance that might save you and your betrothed and the children. That’s what you said. You…you’re going to do some damn heroic last stand, something that will make them think we’re all dead…”

  “Go, Simon Wester,” said Conmager. “You have always been a true friend to me, despite your fears. Love your betrothed and cherish her. And take care of the children.” His eyes grew glassy. “Especially Ally. That is all I ask of you. Guard the children…and remember me, for no one else will.”

  “No!” said Simon. His arms ached with the effort of holding Katrina. “No! I’m not going to leave you here to die…”

  Conmager smiled. “It’s not as if I’m giving you a choice.”

  He moved like lightning despite his wounds. He grabbed the hidden door and slammed it shut, filling the crate with darkness. Simon yelled and pounded on it, but could not break through.

  Ally tugged at this belt. “We have to go!”

  Simon heard metal shrieking and the roars of the winged demons. He wiped tears from his face, nodded, and groped towards the hidden stairwell.

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