Episode Fifty-One The Plan Begins

L ylah

We stay up for hours discussing the upcoming assault. Drixxa has led a fascinating life. Shortly after the mutations began, he holed up in a cave in the mountains near his home. He calls them the rocky mountains. I don't know if that's a description or a proper name.

He flew from library to library, reading everything he could get his hands on about many subjects. He investigated the shots everyone was given, but says much of the information was on computers that no longer function.

He'd shrugged and said, "That ship has sailed." I can only guess what that means.

When he reached his limit on that line of research, he began to plot his attack on those he considered his enemies. He thought of dozens of ways to accomplish it, but not by himself. That's why he was thrilled to find out from a tiny traveling avian about the army Azael is building.

He's read hundreds of books about military strategy and has thought this through. His ideas sound like they might work. Although what do I know? I can't even read.

Everyone is adding to the conversation, even the two other women. They were highborns, living on the top floors of Tower One. Nadira was a Senator's wife and, oddly, Alliana would have replaced her if she hadn't rejected that idea and been banished Down Below.

Just look at Alliana, sitting on the minotaur's lap, surrounded by her other two mates. The soft smile on her face would have made me envious only a few days ago. Now I have three adoring mates of my own.

The Towers are best described as giant mushrooms. The "stems", one hundred floors high, are fairly thin, built only to hold a bank of elevators and provide extra storage. Above that are the residential and office floors that are much wider than the "stem."

The President, Senators, and wealthiest males live on the highest floors. Those, like my family, who were only allowed into the Towers hundreds of years ago because the males were tradesmen whose jobs were considered essential, are on the lowest floors.

Our apartments were tiny compared to the highest floors. My father was a simple handyman. Women are currency Up Above. I was deemed beautiful, though the only way I knew that was the interest in me at my bridal auction. Otherwise, my father called me names every day of my life.

I thought I had nothing to add to the conversation about our planned attack until they begin talking about sabotaging the Tower's weapons. They were discussing how to find the weapons cache.

"I know right where they're kept," I tell them, my voice so firm and confident it surprises me.

Because I've been so quiet, all heads swivel toward me in surprise.

"Tell us, Lylah," Drixxa says. I hadn't expected him to remember my name. I have to remind myself that all males aren't like the ones in the Tower.

My father sent my mother to the Punishment Tower when she could no longer bear him children to sell. He didn't make enough to have a servant, so he took me with him to his job. I considered it the highest honor to hand him tools when he asked for them.

When I angered him, he'd tell me to go away and not come back until he called. I had free rein as I explored the subfloors.

I grab a stick from behind me, then draw the Tower in the dirt.

"Obviously, these are the elevators, but around their core are storage areas. Processed food is stored here, along with things the people will need in their apartments. Here," I point to the wider cylinder where the residents live, "are the residential floors. But the first three floors here are referred to as sub-one, sub-two, and sub-three."

I look up and for the first time in my life, I see males looking at me as if I have something important to say. Well, other than my new mates who always listen to me with interest.

"Sub-one has disaster supplies, foodstuffs that were designed to stay fresh for years, and building supplies should the Tower be damaged by weather. Sub-two is filled with weapons and arms. I was never let loose on sub-three."

"Weapons and arms," Drixxa says, wonder in his voice.

The monk and orc look at each other, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"When we first discussed an assault on the Tower, we talked about climbing the stem of the mushroom," Azael explains. "There are hundreds of monks in the village who are ready, willing, and able to climb. We can sneak in and steal or sabotage as many weapons as we need."

"I have half a thousand orcs, ready to do the heavy fighting," Dhar offers. "Although it would be easier to do if we knew how to breach the bottom doors to the elevators."

"We have climbers, fighters, small avians to help with communication," Drixxa says as he slowly nods. "I've lived like a hermit for centuries, dreaming of revenge and planning the attack. I've read thousands of books and manuals and can probably figure out how to open the doors and turn the elevators on, but it won't be in time for the initial attack. Anyway, we have a lot going for us, including an air force with people like you, Thallose, and you, Hazlan—"

Hazlan, who only a few hours ago admitted his shame at the state of his wings, stands and extends them for all to see. Instead of humiliation, he seems proud to admit, "My wings were clipped, but there are many other ways I can contribute to the cause."

"Yes," Drixxa agrees. "Everyone brings something of value. And we have me in my battle form. In addition to what you saw, I breathe fire."