Fourteen people, seven men and seven women, sat facing Tal, each one of them paired with another from their group. Some were easier to pick out as being a pair, sharing movements and mannerisms, while others were only sitting nearer to one another and occasionally nodding together. Why there were such differences between the various pairs, he didn’t know. Perhaps the bond wasn’t as simple a thing as he had originally assumed. Maybe some bonds were stronger than others, or some people were able to form stronger bonds. Whatever the case may be, he pushed those thoughts aside and braced himself for whatever was to come.

Tal assumed these were the taskmasters for Spire and that he was about to assigned to serve beneath one of them, or rather, beneath a pair of them. He hoped it didn’t become a drawn-out argument. Sometimes, in Peak, when extra labor was to be had the various taskmasters would fight tooth and nail to have the extra body assigned to them. The real losers in those situations were the laborers that had been fought over. From that point onward, the other taskmasters would find ways to punish the unlucky laborer for not being assigned to them.

“Could you,” the foremost pair began, “explain to us the duties you performed in Peak?”

Tal made sure he kept his gaze angled just to the side of the ones who had spoken to him, not wanting to meet their gaze and risk insulting them.

“I worked with stones mostly,” he explained. “Lots of foundations and walls. I didn’t build many floors or roofs. I can also make bricks. I never learned much about working with wood, and never did anything with glass.”

The group took notes of what Tal said. Then, another pair of them rose and, producing a highly detailed sketch, laid it out on a table near Tal. He immediately recognized the sketch as being one of Peak, as seen from Spire. That perspective had always been key to everything Tal and the others built and so great care had been taken to make sure everyone knew how the new constructions would appear to Spire.

“Could you show us which of these buildings you worked on?” the pair who had produced the sketch asked.

Tal began to point them out and the pair made a small notation beside each of them. Several of the other pairs edged a bit closer to try and see which ones Tal was indicating. Several times he heard what he could only describe as gasps of excitement, although he had had no idea why that would be their response. He’d been told that they had known for some time that Peak was only building the one wall that faced Spire, that they had never completed any of the actual buildings, and that Spire’s real interest was in understanding how none of Peak’s facades ever collapsed.

“Were you the planner for any of these projects?” they asked him.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Did you plan out how these buildings were to be constructed? Decide how and where the stones were to be laid? Determine the best placement for the construction itself?”

Tal shifted his weight, uneasy with the eagerness they were all expressing.

“Sometimes, yeah,” he said. “The rulers would tell us what they wanted and give us a drawing of what they wanted it to look like, but then yeah, we’d sit down and figure out where to build it and all that.”

“And you were in charge of those projects?”

“What? No, the taskmasters were in charge of the projects.”

“Oh,” was their reply, obviously crestfallen. “So, the taskmasters made the decisions then?”

Tal shuffled his feet a bit more.

“No, me and the builders had to do that work,” he told them.

The fourteen eager people all looked just as confused as Tal.

“Then, what did the taskmasters do?” they all asked together with the same frustrated exasperation.

It was one thing to have two people speaking together, and Tal had mostly gotten accustomed to it, but it was too much for him to have the entire group suddenly speak as one and he found himself stepping back and away from them while he looked for the nearest exit.

“Please,” a pair of them said in much calmer tones, “we did not mean to upset you. We simply wish to understand.”

Slowly, Tal returned to where he had been standing before their outburst.

“The way it worked,” Tal said, figuring he should just give them the full series of event, in order, “was that the rulers would draw what they wanted the building to look like. I think I actually have one of the drawings.”

Tal searched inside his pocket and found the folded piece of paper. He unfolded it and laid it out on the table beside the sketch of Peak. The drawing was rather minimal when compared to the sketch, but Tal felt that was because the rulers had been working from their minds whereas the artist from Spire could see the finished buildings.

“Drawing like that would be given to me and the other builders and we would figure out how to do it and where to build it. Then the taskmasters would make sure we got it built before the next clear day so you all in Spire could see it and think we’d built a whole building and not just a wall. The taskmasters made sure we got up early, made sure we didn’t take too long eating our meals, and told us when we could be done for the day.”

“Oh,” the foremost pair said with comprehension. “All that you and the other builders were given were drawing like this? You and the other builders did everything else?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“Incredible.”

Tal felt his face begin to flush.

“I’m just a simple builder,” he exclaimed.

“We think you’re not fully aware of your skills,” came their reply.

“If you want a real expert, you’ll need to talk with the ruler who brought me here.” He wasn’t about to contradict them directly, but neither did he agree with them and didn’t want to have them misplace their trust in him.

“We thought that it had been you who had brought him,” the said. “You were carrying him, after all, when you arrived.”

“The bridge was collapsing,” Tal said. “The rulers of Peak aren’t used to physical labor and if I’d left him he would have died!”

They didn’t press Tal any further on the subject, but he didn’t fail to notice how they also didn’t follow up on his suggestion to ask the ruler for help with their buildings.

“How would you feel if we were to ask you for your help on one of our projects?” They asked.

“What do my feelings have to do with that?”

“Well, we would very much appreciate your help.”

“I don’t exactly have a choice, do I?” he asked, although he didn’t intend for them to take his question as a real question. He knew he was at their mercy and that they could do with him as they pleased.

To his utter amazement, however, the people from Spire laughed and then replied, “Of course you have a choice! What, do your people in Peak think that we’re all terrible and cruel, not letting our people to have any say in the course of their lives?”

“That’s how it is in Peak,” Tal said without meaning to.

“What was that?” they asked.

“I said that’s how things are in Peak. We don’t get to choose what it is we do. The rulers tell the taskmasters, the taskmasters tell us, and then we just get on with doing what we’ve been told.”

They all took on much more serious expressions now but said nothing to Tal for some time. They instead looked from one to another, and Tal got the impression that some conversation was going on that he wasn’t privy to. Before too long, one of the pairs got up and left the group.

“I’m sorry if I’ve said something I shouldn’t have said,” Tal ventured when it seemed like their silent discussion was ended.

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” they assured him, “but some of the information your companion shared with us earlier appears to conflict with your account and we believe yours to be the more accurate one.”

That didn’t bode well for him, Tal thought. If his ruler got upset because of something he’d said, what would that mean for Tal? In Peak, if someone really angered the rulers then they were thrown, literally, out of the land. Having walked across the glass bridge, Tal knew that such a fate would mean a rather terrifying end to his life.

“What is the matter?” a pair asked Tal, each one placing a gentle hand on either of his shoulders.

“Please,” Tal begged of them. “I didn’t mean to say anything against my ruler. I don’t want to upset him. I don’t want to be thrown out!”

Try as he might to keep his voice level and controlled, he felt his throat constricting and noticed the whine developing the longer he spoke.

“No one is throwing you out,” they assured him even as greater concern was etched into their faces.

“Maybe not you,” Tal cried, unable to contain his emotions any longer, “but once my ruler decides my fate, then what?”

Tal was pulled into a double hug and the shock of it nearly startled him out of his fear. The people on either side of him held him tightly and patted him gently. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before and couldn’t decide if the awkwardness he felt was outweighed by the kindness being shown to him.

“You have nothing to fear,” they told him after a few moments. “The man you came here with may have been a ruler in your land, but here he has no authority over you. He is not a ruler anymore. Not here, and not in Peak. He is just a man.”

It was a difficult concept to wrap his mind around, a ruler not being a ruler anymore. What did that make Tal? The people of Spire still seemed content to treat him like a builder, although as he considered it more they didn’t really treat him like a builder in the same way the Peak treated their builders.

“The more we have learned about Peak,” a pair in the group said, “the more we have begun to regret building our bridge to it. We thought we would find a brilliant land and that both our peoples would benefit. We did not realize Peak thought we were enemies, in competition with one another. Indeed, their reception to us was so shocking we could not believe it until they had truly destroyed the bridge.”

A chair was brought over for Tal and he sat down, grateful he didn’t have to remain standing since his legs had begun to shake from all of the worry and stress he’d come under. Soon after that, a cool drink was offered to him and for a while he was content to sip his drink and ignore much of the other things that were going on around him.

“We’re sorry to interrupt,” some voices called Tal back to the situation before him and he felt his chest tighten when he realized the ruler from Peak was now among them. “We thought you should be part of this discussion.”

Tal sat up a bit straighter in his chair, suppressing the urge to stand since it would have been inappropriate for him in Peak to be sitting while a ruler was present. The ruler, for his part, did not look to be as commanding and in control as the rulers usually seemed and it was he who was standing while others sat and asked him questions.

“Please explain to us,” the foremost pair spoke to the ruler from Peak, “why you chose to come to Spire.”

The man looked around at the group, his eyes lingering ever so briefly on Tal, and it was apparent he was considering his words carefully. Judging from what Tal had already heard, he guessed that this question had previously been asked and that an answer had already been given, and that answer was now being challenged.

“I’ve told you already,” the ruler stated, “I was curious about your people. I did not believe my people would destroy the bridge while I was on it, but clearly I was wrong.”

“Why was this man with you?” they asked, motioning towards Tal.

“It is customary for one of my position to have an aid.”

“He has said nothing of serving you in such a capacity,” they turned towards Tal. “Were you this man’s aid?”

“No,” Tal replied, uncertain what even an aid was. “I’d never worked directly with any of the rulers before.”

“How did you come to cross the bridge together?”

“I was gathering stones,” Tal explained somewhat uncomfortably, “to be used for breaking the bridge later. Then the ruler came and started asking me what I thought about Spire, and then he sort of told me to go with him and I did, not wanting to disobey.”

“In Peak,” the ruler stated, “anyone can be taken on as an aid at any time. It’s not a common position or one that requires acknowledgement. I was going into a strange land and therefore thought it prudent to bring someone along to act as an aid.”

“Had you been assigned to your task of gathering stones?” they asked Tal.

“No.”

“Could you be seen from above, by those in Peak, while you were gathering your stones?”

“I don’t think so. To be honest, I was doing what I was doing so I could avoid any ire from the taskmasters. I figured I was well out of sight, and even if anyone did see me, they’d not have an issue with the work I was doing since it would be needed to be done anyway.”

Tal caught a withering glance from the ruler and quickly looked down.

“Why didn’t you get an aid to join you when you first decided to come to Spire? From what we’ve heard it seems unlikely that you could have known this builder was near the bridge.”

“Correct,” the ruler admitted. “You see, I hadn’t decided to cross the bridge until I’d gotten there. Only then did I gain the determination to cross it.”

“In that case, why would you assume your people would not break the bridge, if no one knew that it was you that was upon the bridge?”

The ruler faltered at that point and his eyes darted from face to face while he considered his next words. Then a shift in his expression came and it was as though a weight was falling from off his shoulders. Yet there was little relief in his posture. Instead, it reminded Tal of the way people looked who, weighed down with a heavy load, found they could go no further and collapsed. Those people rarely ever got back up, often being dead before they even hit the ground.

“Peak is a failed land,” the ruler spoke with very little of his previous bravado. “For generations they have focused their efforts, their resources, on beating Spire in the race to build the greatest and grandest structures. The lands they once farmed have been turned into mud pits for making brick. The springs and wells have been tainted by impatient hands, hurrying to get enough water to manage the needs of the masons. Were it not for the stockpiles of grain that wiser generations had stored, they would have already died of starvation. Yet even now, those stockpiles are depleted. By the end of the year, they will have starved and be no more. I came to escape that madness and brought this man with me out of a sense of duty and kindness.”

“You speak as though you had no control over those events,” observed the pair who were questioning him, “but weren’t you one of their leaders?”

“I was but one voice among many. If I had argued for reason they would have thrown me off a cliff.”

“You also state that you brought your companion because of your sense of duty, but were there not others that you could have also brought with you? Why didn’t you give them the chance to escape their fate as well?”

“I…

The ruler looked again from face to face, although he skipped Tal this time.

“I didn’t know if the bridge could support the weight,” he finally said. “I worried that if I said too much, or alerted the wrong person to my intentions that I might cause a mob to rush onto the bridge and collapse it before anyone could reach the other side.”

The people from Spire considered that response for some time before speaking again.

“Why didn’t you tell us these things when we first questioned you?”

The ruler opened his mouth but couldn’t seem to find the words to speak. He closed his mouth, then tried again without success. At last, he pursed his lips, cast his arms out wide to either side and declared, “I was saving myself. Is that what you want me to say? I didn’t care about anyone else in Peak, and still don’t care what happens to them. I saw what was coming and knew the bridge was my only way out so I took it. When I reached the bridge I hadn’t been expecting to find anyone else there and didn’t want people to know where I’d gone so I took him with me.”

The people of Spire nodded and then dismissed the ruler with a wave. He didn’t leave, however, apparently surprised that no punishment was going to be declared upon him.

“You may return to your labors,” the pair told him.

“You’re not going to lock me up? Cast me out?” the ruler asked.

“Selfishness and pride are not crimes here,” they told him. “Lying to an official assembly is not something done by our people and so have no law against it either, though we would discourage any future deceits since those will be judged as crimes in the future. In the meantime, you are free to go.”

The ruler wasted no time after that and he left, sparing only the briefest of glances towards Tal. It was difficult to understand the meaning behind that look, but it certainly wasn’t a kind one. Tal decided then and there that he would never go looking for that man and hoped their paths wouldn’t cross again any time soon.

Again, the assembled people from Spire held one of their strange, silent discussions. Given the number of times pairs of them pointed or looked over towards Tal, he knew he must be factoring heavily into their debate. Perhaps they thought he was as duplicitous as the ruler? Maybe they were reconsidering their acceptance of two such outsiders from a land that was so obviously antagonistic towards them.

“We apologize for excluding you,” a pair of them said after some time. “We assure you it is not a reflection of our feelings towards you.”

“It’s alright,” Tal shrugged.

He still didn’t know where he stood with these people. He was used to a society with a clearly defined social structure, but Spire didn’t seem to have any such thing. At least, if it did he couldn’t see it.

“This revelation regarding the state of affairs over in your homeland of Peak has greatly concerned us.”

“I doubt you’re in any danger,” Tal assured them. “No one ever talked of attacking Spire. We just wanted to build better than you.”

“That is not what we meant,” they said. “Our concern is for your people. If what we’ve been told is true, then a terrible starvation is about to commence among your people.”

“Right, but what can we do about it?”

“Well, we’ve built a bridge to Peak once before,” they said.

“I don’t know how well they’d take to you building a second one.”

“Yes,” they agreed, “and we’d need your help to ensure it was sturdy enough to withstand any…uh…any destructive forces it might face.”

They laid out another drawing for Tal to see. It was the bridge of broken glass, with notes and details revealing much of how they built it. To Tal, it was like seeing into the heart of creation itself, with ideas and methods he could never have conceived of. And yet, as he looked at it, as he studied it, he began to see areas where their designs were lacking. Concepts that he took for granted over in Peak seemed to be unknown to those in Spire.

“Do you think you could help us?” they asked. “Help your people?”

Tal looked back to the drawing and, slowly, began to nod his assent.