20
Grayson
The Lady saunters off, leaving me alone with a poisoned human and tons of questions.
For a full five minutes, I just stand in what might become my new jail cell, wondering what to do with a sick human. My mind keeps stalling out. Not sure how I pictured life as a tower tithe, but it involved a lot more household chores and a lot less disposing of near-dead bodies.
Concentrate, Grayson.
My first step is to leave this place. Up next? Find some help. I march around the penthouse, but there’s no sign of the Lady or an exit. I check out a few windows and wonder. How do humans live this high up? It’s just not natural for anything that doesn’t have wings.
Finally, I recall something I saw during my lessons at the Bartlebee. Humans have a metal thing that moves them around.
An el
