Towering

looked over him. He shivered, still, but I could see his face. His jaw was firm. His hair was dark brown, nearly black, and when he looked up at me, his eyes were green as the trees.
    It was him.
    I knew it.
    “Wh-wha-wh-wh-who are y-you.” His teeth chattered.
    “I am Rachel.”
    “W-where d-d-did you c-c-come from?”
    I gestured toward my tower, seeing it, from the front, perhaps for the first time ever. It was old and shabby, almost invisible among the gray clouds, with nubby shingles studding its sides, except where they had fallen off. “There.”

Wyatt
    “There.” The girl was stunning. There was no other word. With long, blond hair and skin that seemed almost translucent, she looked like an angel. She gestured to her left, and when I was able to stop shivering and staring at her, I looked too. At first, I thought she was joking, for all I saw was a clump of trees. Was she some unearthly creature, like a sprite or a fairy, who lived among the leaves? But then, I saw it, hidden among them.
    A ruined tower.
    It was made of wood, shingled most of the way up, and appeared to be very old, too old for someone so beautiful to live in. It rose high among the trees with only one window at the very top. From that window hung a golden rope that reached all the way to the ground.
    “Are you a ghost?” I asked. She wore a gown of white, ghostly, as if from another era.
    But she shook her head. “I do not think so. At least, I do not recall dying.” She reached forward and touched her hand to my cheek. “Do I feel like a ghost?”
    Suddenly, the sun came out and shone upon her golden hair. Her eyes were bright blue.
    Her hand, though cold, still warmed my own cold face like fire. She was the one who’d been singing. I heard her from so far away. This was why I had come here. I reached up and touched her cheek with my own hand. “No. But I don’t understand. How are you here?”
    “I knew you would come, that something would happen, that there was a reason. Destiny, or what have you. Every day, I waited, and every night, I dreamed.”
    “Of someone coming to rescue you?”
    She raised an eyebrow. “It was I who rescued you. And now, I do not know how I will get back to my tower.”
    “You want to go back?”
    “It is where I live. Where else would I go? Besides, Mama will worry if she finds me missing.”
    I gaped at her. When you rescue a girl from a tower—even if she rescues you—you’re supposed to take her with you. Though, come to think of it, I didn’t know where we would go. I couldn’t exactly take her to Mrs. Greenwood’s.
    Still, I tried again. “But you can’t go back. I want to talk to you, to know you. And what about my destiny?”
    She looked uncertain, and as she did, she shivered. “I’m not sure. Maybe it was only my destiny to save you.”
    “Do you want one of the blankets?” It would be hard to give it up, considering it was freezing out, and I had just been dunked in water, but it seemed like I should offer.
    She shook her head. “I should go back. But I don’t know how to get up there. It was so much easier to come down. Can you help me?” She gestured to the sad tower.
    “The thing is,” I said, “I came here for a reason too. I didn’t know what it was, but ever since I came here, I’ve heard something, something beckoning to me. That’s why I came. So I couldn’t just be here to fall through the ice so you could rescue me. There must be something else.”
    Man, she was beautiful.
    She looked up at me, then down, as if she didn’t want me to see her looking. “Maybe. But I do not think I’m supposed to leave. Not yet, anyway. Maybe someday.” She glanced up again, out of the tops of her eyes. “But if Mama finds me like this, my rope hanging, she will know I tried to escape. And then, she will make it so I can never come down again. Can you help me back to my tower? Please?”
    Her voice became higher at the end, not hysterical but worried. I said, “Isn’t there a door?”
    She brightened a bit. “There must be. Mama comes through a door to get inside. But she always locks it. I can hear her keys, and the turning of the mechanism each time she comes.”
    “Maybe we can jimmy it.” I’d never jimmied anything in my life, but the tower looked old, so maybe the lock was too.
    She took off, walking around the side of the tower. I could tell she was cold by how fast she walked, and how stiffly. I followed her. When we reached the door, it had not one,