Book 11: Who's Dyin' Now?

Misty

It’s been two hours since I left the apartment I share with Georgia. I creep around another corner, sketching the sharp angles of what I believe might be the fourth floor of this Goddess-forsaken fortress, and I’m no closer to finding a way out than I was when I left my rooms. 

Another foyer stretches ahead of me, followed by another staircase leading both up and down, splitting down the center. I sigh, tapping my pen on my lip as I ponder whether to take the stairs or keep walking to the exterior bridge that connects this area to another tower, I think. 

Whoever built this place was a glutton for punishment. My legs are burning from the effort of navigating at least a dozen staircases already. 

I lean against the wall for a moment to catch my breath, flipping through the four pages of notes and examining the crudely sketched map. I can get back to my room from here. I believe we’re on the sixth or seventh floor up there,