Page 37 of Storm of Stars
The air had a strange scent now, too, something warm, almost smokey. For a moment, it reminded me of a meal Thorne had cooked for us a few nights ago. The thought hit me harder than I expected. I missed them. I hoped they were alright and that their towers weren’t beyond repair.
I pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the task ahead. My heart tightened, but I steeled myself, lifting my chin as I approached the island’s rocky base. There was no time to dwell on homesickness. I had a tower to fix.
I started up the exposed roots, grabbing at the rough bark to pull myself higher. Each movement was slow, deliberate, as I navigated the tough climb. When I reached the top of the island, sweat began to bead on my forehead despite the warmth of the sun. I wiped it away with the long sleeve shirt they had insisted I wear, sweat clinging to the fabric despite the heat.
Pushing through the thick trees was no easier. The dense foliage made every step a challenge, and I had to duck and weavearound low-hanging branches. After several minutes, I finally emerged into a small, almost circular clearing. In the middle of the clearing stood a wooden tower.
Or at least, that’s what it used to be.
“Shit,” I whispered under my breath as I took in the sight. The structure was barely recognizable. Eroded beams hung loosely, swaying slightly in the breeze. There were no solid stairs to climb, just a hollow step leading to a gaping hole where once there had been a platform. It looked like one of the old water towers from back home in Canyon, dilapidated and dangerous. Four large posts jutted out of the earth, their support beams cracked and splintered. It was a death trap waiting to happen.
I circled the structure, taking in the damage. No amount of patching up could make this tower safe again. My heart sank, but I knew I had to make do.
To the right of the tower sat a workbench, a pile of tools scattered haphazardly across it. I walked over, heart sinking further. There were hammers, saws, and hatchets, but not much else. A bucket of used nails, some rusty scrap metal, and a pile of lumber that looked barely enough to repair a fraction of the tower.
I let out a frustrated breath. This wasn’t going to be easy. I was going to need more than just tools and scrap wood to make this tower even remotely functional. I glanced back toward the thick forest, my mind racing. The trees were my only hope. I’d have to cut branches down and use what I could find.
The smokey scent hung thick in the air now, clinging to my senses. I looked around again, trying to spot the source, but saw nothing. Perhaps it was just the island’s natural scent.
I rolled my shoulders back, pushing through the exhaustion that had already begun to settle in. There was no time to waste. I had to get to work.
Grabbing the hatchet, I started chopping at the nearest tree, my arms aching with each swing. The sun hung heavy overhead, and the sweat on my brow stung my eyes. But I couldn’t afford to stop. The clock was ticking.
A few hours later, the sweat poured down my face, stinging my eyes, as I stood surrounded by a growing pile of thick, sturdy branches. It would have to be enough. The sun was sinking lower in the sky, the golden hue fading to a soft orange that spread across the water. The day was slipping away, and I had to move faster. I couldn’t risk being left in the dark when the island’s challenges could be lurking just beyond the fading light.
I took a moment to study the broken tower again, eyeing the decaying beams and rotting wood that barely clung to the four posts in place. The structure was in terrible condition. Tentatively, I placed my weight on different sections of the tower, testing the stability. The creaking wood sent jolts of panic through my chest, but I forced myself to breathe. I had no time to be afraid.
The tower was falling apart at the seams, and I only had a small pile of branches and a handful of tools to fix it. I ran the plan through my head again. If I reinforced the bottom structure first, I could build a kind of ladder instead of traditional stairs to reach the top. It wouldn’t be ideal, but it might be enough to get me up there safely.
I glanced up at the sky. The last of the sunlight was flickering against the water’s surface, casting long shadows over the island. Hours had passed in a blur of sweat, blood, and exhaustion. My hands were rough, palms split open by splinters that dug deep into my skin. Each hammer strike sent pain shooting up my arms, but I couldn’t stop.
The sun was almost gone now. The orange glow was barely visible through the trees as dusk crept in, and I could feel the weight of time pressing down on me. Whatever dangers lurkedon this island would soon be here, and I had to finish this tower, fast. The nervous energy in my stomach twisted tighter with each passing moment, and I pushed harder.
Gripping the hammer with raw, aching hands, I worked furiously, nails biting into the wood as I secured a cross beam along the base. The four posts groaned under the strain, but this time when I leaned against it, the tower didn’t sway. It was solid. Good. I had made some progress.
With my heart pounding, I climbed up onto the newly reinforced beams, making sure to keep my weight balanced as I repeated the process around the tower. Every movement was deliberate and calculated, but the exhaustion was catching up with me. My muscles burned from the constant strain, my arms trembling as I worked faster. The tower was slowly taking shape, but night was fast approaching.
When I reached the top level, my body was screaming in pain. My hands were cut and swollen, the skin raw from the constant friction against the wood. My vision was starting to blur, cloudy from exhaustion, and my eyes watered from the pain. I didn’t care. I reached the platform, only to find that it was a fragile, skeletal wreck. The structure wasn’t even close to being sturdy enough to stand on.
But maybe I didn’t need to stand on it.
I glanced over at the lamp positioned in the center of the platform, the amplified light that would signal my rescue. It was fragile and required a fire to ignite the back, which would then reflect off mirrors and light the signal. If I could light the lamp from here, I wouldn’t need to step onto the platform at all.
I felt a momentary surge of hope, but it quickly faded as the weight of the tower’s instability hit me again. The wind shifted, sending a soft creak through the beams. My pulse quickened.
I could do this.
Carefully, I climbed back down, the tower groaning beneath me with every move. The creaks and cracks in the wood made my heart race, but I focused on making each movement as slow and deliberate as possible. Every time a beam shifted under my weight, my stomach dropped, and I had to force myself to ignore the panic.
Once my feet finally hit solid ground again, I collapsed against the earth, my breath coming in shallow, strained gasps. I closed my eyes, trying to steady myself. The coolness of the ground beneath me felt comforting for a moment, but I couldn’t let myself rest for long.
I had been working non-stop for hours. My body was bruised, battered, and starving. My throat was dry, and I longed for something to drink. There was nothing I could do about the hunger or the pain right now.
I just had to survive the night.
The sky was dotted with stars, their pinpricks of light scattered across the vast expanse above me. I lay on my back, taking slow, steady breaths as the exhaustion from the day's work began to wash over me. My body felt heavy, sinking into the earth beneath me, but it was a comforting weight. The ground was warm, warmer than I would’ve expected, though I guessed it was from the sun beating down on it all day. Either way, it was a welcome sensation.
I turned my gaze back up to the stars, studying their patterns and shapes, watching the way they painted the sky. Out here, the night sky was so clear. It reminded me of Canyon, where the darkness swallowed everything, the stars bold and bright against the backdrop of nothingness. I hadn’t realized how much I missed it, how much I missed the true night sky. In Praxis, the lights from the city drowned out any hope of seeing stars. The neon glow and the constant hum of artificial light had kept the heavens hidden from view. But out here, like in the Wilds withThorne, or on the rooftop with Ava, the stars were visible in all their glory, clear as day, as though they had been waiting for me all along.
