"What's at the top?" I ask, fascinated by the latest form magic has taken in this world.

"We will find out." He starts to climb, a powerful combination of speed and strength that's mesmerizing. His footing is sure, the muscles beneath his thin pants shaping and contracting while his biceps and shoulders bulge.

I watch him, more intrigued by the way he moves than I can remember being about anything else in a long time.

The sheet between us grows taut. He stops and leans back, hanging on with one hand while he waits. "Witch, come!"

I plant my hands on my hips. "I think we need a better plan than to climb up and see. We could climb forever without reaching the ceiling or cloud or whatever it is we're anchored to." I'm also in terrible shape to be climbing. Running is bad enough.

"Have you a plan, witch?"

"Would you please stop calling me a witch?" I complain. Shielding my eyes, I look around us and notice the other hanging tower prisons. They're in a line between the shore and us.

The tower shudders beneath his weight as he leaps rather than climbs down. I drop to my knees, fear flying through me at the thought of plunging to my death in the scary blue-black bay.

Guess that answers one question. There's some give in the chain and another idea forms.

"You wish me to call you Naia?" he asks uneasily.

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"I know you all have weird laws about using names, but it's just us out here. No one will hear you if you do. I'm not hitting on you or disrespecting your betrothed or anything."

"Very well, Naia."

I kinda like the way he says my name. Ignoring that thought, I focus on the line of towers leading to shore. I walk around the top of our tower, taking in everything before I dare voice my idea out loud. I'm not sure I could take him laughing at my idea, the way Jason used to.

"I have an idea," I say finally. "We get this thing to swing like a pendulum towards the next tower and make our way to land by hopping from tower to tower." Without looking at him, I brace for his rejection.

"'Tis a worthy idea." He joins me at the edge where I stand. "We will need to start it rocking." He takes my arms and maneuvers me in front of him before releasing me to tighten the sheet around my waist. "If this works, we'll need a longer sheet or rope."

"If what works?" I ask, flustered once again by having his large hands on me.




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