Towervale-First-Section.Pdf

TOWERVALE PATRICK CARMAN

No part of this publication may be produced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

Printed in Canada

1 2 Must read before starting!

This is a very strange book. Here’s why:

You are the hero of this adventure. You have done all the things you will read about, you just don’t remember doing them. This is because our friend Merrick cast a spell on you that makes you forget. He did this to protect our story, because our story is very dangerous. But now you must remember! And that begins right now.

In your story, you made a video game. You created this game! I watched you do it! You just don’t remember. The levels of the game you made are like keys that unlock our story. If someone doesn’t know how to win the levels of your game, they won’t have the keys to unlock everything we have done. Your game levels are like a super powerful encryption, protecting our story from anyone we don’t want reading it!

When you read a paragraph that tells you to play a level of the game, you have to go play it! If you don’t, the next thing you read in this book will be the wrong part of the story.

You can find the game at towervalegame.com, or in app stores under the name Towervale.

When you beat a level in the game, it will tell you what page to turn to in the book.

3 There are seven written sections to your story and six game levels to beat. You must win all the game levels to read your entire story in the right order.

The only way to get the passwords and know how to beat the levels is to read the book. The book is also where you find the secret clues for how to win game levels.

You can’t read your adventure without the game, and you can’t play your game without the book. You designed everything this way to protect it. Not just anyone can discover your story, only those who know how to use the keys. But you can!

Are you ready to remember all that you have done?

This is your chance.

Be on the lookout for the first prompt to play the game. It could pop up anywhere!

Let’s get to it!

4 Your Adventure Begins

My name is Winnie, and I am a scribe and a metal worker in the Caves of Iron. I would tell you what these things mean, but you already know. You’re a metal worker, too. You’re also my best friend and my constant companion. Somehow I have known all my life that you were different than everyone else and that you would change everything. I can’t say why I have always known these things, but it’s the truth.

What lies ahead is an adventure, but I am not the adventurer. I am just the one who will write it down. You are the adventurer, and your destiny is set in metal and stone.

In my world, we have a saying:

Walk another person’s path, and you will know more than their journey. You will know their heart.

And so we begin.

5 I am watching you while you work on a tiny gear, so small you can barely see the teeth that run in a tight circle around a solid metal core. There is a magnifier on your left eye, held in place by a leather strap that runs around your head. The magnifier is cone shaped and shiny black, projecting an inch off your face. It is one of your most prized possessions.

It’s not hard for you to imagine what this tiny gear will do within the machinery that surrounds us on all sides. Like me, you’ve been working in the Caves of Iron your entire life. There is very little about this place you don’t understand.

“Got it,” you say with satisfaction. You push the magnifier up onto your forehead, where it always rests while you’re not using it. “This one’s ready to insert; can you give me a hand?”

We both turn to the center of the work table, where a contraption that looks like the inside of a giant watch sits between us. There are dozens of gears and small metal levers intricately built together. The whole thing is about the size of your head and roughly the same shape. And it’s about to come to life.

“Two months of our lives and it all comes down to one tiny gear,” I say.

I can never believe that such a small piece of a puzzle can be so important, but you always remind me that sometimes, the smallest things matter most of all.

6 You look at me as you hold the tiny gear between a pair of tweezers. “Look all around you, Winnie. None of this would work without us.”

I know what you’re implying: you and I are both eleven years old. We’re small, almost invisible inside the maw of this thing we serve. You look all around our little room - we both do - and you see what I see. The machine surrounds us on every side and overhead. We are inside a cocoon of parts, a forest of connected gears. The very walls of our tiny home are made of metal and machine, and beyond these parts, millions and millions more that fill the Caves of Iron to bursting. Some of these gears are much bigger than we are, but they only move occasionally. Usually, they are still and we can travel among them without fear of being swallowed up by millions of teeth, churned to dust as the gears carry us away, never to be seen again. This has happened to many people in the Caves of Iron, it could happen to you. But today, like a hundred days before it, the machine that surrounds us is silent and still.

We know it will move again very soon. It always does. There are narrow passageways leading in many directions. They travel for miles throughout the Caves of Iron, with hooks and bars to hold onto as we go. We are often moving inside the machine, replacing or adding parts, preparing it for something we do not understand.

“I’m doing that thing again,” I say. “I’m wondering what this is all for. Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

“Of course I am,” you say as you set the tiny gear in

7 place, holding it steady as I secure it with a pin. “But no one will ever tell us, so I try not to think about it. Besides, you think about it enough for both of us.”

You are right about this. I think about the machine all the time. I think about how I’m inside it, like it’s my mother and I’m never going to be born into the world outside. What’s out there, beyond the machine, and what does the machine do? I think about these things a lot, but you think more about the work. This is why you are better at the work than I am.

“Okay, let’s test it,” you say, placing the tweezers into your belt.

You take up another a tool with a handle and an elbow- shaped bar. At the end of the bar, there are teeth that lock into the machine we’ve just built. You turn the handle and we hear the gears beginning to move. There are over 300 of them in this one piece of work we’ve done together, precise and perfect.

“Hand me the oil can,” you say, transfixed by this thing we’ve built. You drop dots of oil in four different places and the sound of the wheels spinning falls to a whisper. Then you remove the handle and the gears keep turning and turning.

“It’s perfect,” I say. “Bravo! You really are the best builder in the Caves of Iron.”

“Thanks, Winnie. And you’re the best scribe. Let’s go insert this thing and see if it makes the machine start up.”

8 You place the thing we’ve built into a leather cradle and hoist it onto your back and I think about what you’ve said. Am I really a good scribe? Maybe you’re just an easy audience, and I’m the only writer you spend all day with.

You never write. You prefer to make game levels on the tablet they gave us. They being the cloaked ones who run the Caves of Iron, the tablet being a tool designed for testing our work and communicating with our superiors.

You have found that you can make games with the tablet, too, and this is like writing for you. If I’m holding a pen and paper, you are coding more levels into your game. I’ve played every level you’ve ever made, but I’m not as good at games as I am at writing.

Here are a few things I like about the game you’re making right now:

- There are lots of coins, gems, and stars to pick up. This was your idea, because your most prized possessions are three leather pouches that contain gold coins, green gems, and gold stars. You don’t know where they came from, but you always keep them close to you. Someday I think we’ll figure out what the coins, gems, and stars are for. But for today, they are a mystery.

- When you’re working on a level of your game, you always set some of the coins, gems, and stars in front of you in a certain order. That’s the order I have to pick things up in when I play your game. If I don’t pick them up in that order, I die. This makes the game challenging

9 and really fun.

- I also like how the game looks. It reminds me of home with the stone walls, the fences to climb on, the passageways, and the rooms. And you created monsters! I like the monsters.

One game we’re both talented at? You know what it is, and as I look at you now, you sense how much I want to play before we complete our work.

“You want to break our tie, don’t you?” you ask me. You shake your head and smile, digging your hand into a leather pouch hanging from your tool belt.

I laugh as you make the face of a gladiator ready to compete in a fight to the death, and we take up our positions. You hold the same thing in your hand as I do. It fits between your finger and thumb like a skipping stone, but it’s heavier and it’s perfectly round. It’s a gear with curved teeth that bite gently into your skin as you flick your wrist back and forth, preparing to throw.

We are about to compete in a throwing match. We have set up many competitions over the years, and they have gotten progressively more difficult. At first, we threw them directly at a single target, like a game of darts. The targets were made of wood back then, so the gears would dig in on impact and stay where they were. Now, as you look around our small space, there are nine targets, each a six-inch circle of iron. Three are welded into the machinery on the wall in front of us. There are two more on the wall behind us, and two on each of the

10 walls of machinery to our sides.

“I went first last time,” you say.

I nod, keeping my focus on the weight in my hand as I toss it up and down. I turn my body sideways and grip the gear lightly. Then I step forward slowly and stand in the throwing circle. I swing my arm back and then forward, releasing the gear with a flick of my wrist. The gear leaves my hand and hits one of the three targets welded to the far wall of machines. It sparks with yellow and white light and makes a loud ping sound as it ricochets away. The gear zings right and finds the next target, then it heads straight for my head on a return path. I have a choice now. I can catch it in my leather glove and take the two points, or I can let it continue on. The question is how far can it go, and how many targets will I hit?

I opt to catch my first throw, placing my gloved hand in front of my face a second before the gear slices through my forehead.

“Two points,” I say, and you step forward into the throwing circle. “Playing it safe,” you say. “That’s not like you.”

I usually go for more points on my first throw, but sometimes I miss and the gear goes clanging into the machinery, sparking and falling until it either lodges somewhere or falls down into the void where we can’t find it. But usually, we can find misses. It just means we have to climb further inside the machine and find a

11 pathway we can fit through that will take us to our lost item.

You make your first throw and it follows the same path as mine did, but when it comes towards you, you’re already in a crouched position. The gear sails close past your head, hits one of the targets on the back wall, and when it comes back around your gloved hand is in the air.

You catch the gear and stand up.

“Three for me,” you say, tipping your head side to side as if to crack your neck.

Now my arm is loose and I’m really ready to go for it, so when I step back into the circle I throw it much harder. That first throw was a warm up. I crouch the moment my throw is away because I know it will return in a split second. The gear whooshes past and I stay down. I hear the ping as it hits the target on the back wall, then I leap forward and up onto the table. The gear has passed by and hits the target on the left wall, but it’s starting to lose speed. I take one long stride on the table and slide down onto my knees, reaching my gloved hand out to the left as the gear approaches. When it hits my palm I feel a sharp sting, but I’ve got it.

“Four plus two,” I say. “You’ll need a four to beat me.”

You know this, but I like to remind you. Because a four is a very good throw, and risky. You could end up missing a target going for four, and then I’d win. There is also only

12 one thing you hate more than losing, and that’s a tie. So I’ve forced your hand, and you know this.

“Trying to force me into a tie,” you say. “Clever, but it won’t work.”

Your bravado doesn’t worry me. It’s a front you put on when you’re nervous, and I smile as I jump down from the table. I move into the corner, where it’s safe to stand, and you get ready to make your throw. You reel back, and just as you’re about to let go, a message arrives on your tablet with a soft ringing sound. This breaks your concentration, and your throw flies into the air slightly off target. It hits the first, second, and third targets as you leap for the table, but when it hits the fourth target, your gear sails upwards. What you do next defies logic, but I know you’ve done it on purpose. Instead of catching the gear, you slap it in a forward motion with your bare throwing hand as it goes by, sending it faster towards the far wall. It hits another target, the fifth, and heads for the side wall. If it hits a sixth target it would be a new record. Neither of us has ever hit six with one throw before.

You switch direction, diving back over the long table towards the throwing circle, and the gear pings against the sixth target. It is descending towards the floor now, but you reach your gloved hand down to catch it. The gear touches the edge of your glove, slides out, and skips along the floor. It disappears into the machinery and we listen as it clangs and echoes downward, probably gone forever.

13 “When did you start working on that move?” I ask. I’ve never seen you put your hand on a gear while it’s in mid- flight and make it go faster.

You look up at me and smile as you remove your glove. “Sometimes when you’re writing, it’s like you’re in another world. You have no idea what’s going on around you. That’s when I practice the new moves.”

I am struck by how true this is. When I’m writing, everything else falls away. It’s as if I’m in a trance. I’m told this is normal for a scribe, but it’s not going to help me win more games. Still, I take some pride in having won this round.

“357 each,” I say. “All tied up again. And you’re down one gear.”

“Yeah, I think that one is long gone,” you say, peering through the tangle of metal under your feet.

We don’t get messages very often, so we’re both curious who it’s from and what it’s about. When you pick up your tablet and check, a look of concern comes over your face.

“It’s from Merrick. He says he’s coming to see us on urgent business.”

“I wonder what that could mean,” I say. Merrick coming here, now? It’s not a scheduled visit and I worry what his purpose will be.

14 You shrug and glance at the entryway to our room. “Let’s go install this thing before he shows up.”

And so you re-shoulder the contraption we’ve built in its leather pouch and stare into the maw of metal, ready to enter the machine.

There is only one way in or out of our small area, so there’s no guessing how to leave. The way we are going is small for an adult to fit through, but Toby, a Stooper of the caves, brings us rations on a regular schedule. Each week he brings us a block of cheese, a loaf of bread, a large jug of water, and sometimes a small bar of chocolate. There are also berries, usually blue ones, but sometimes red ones. Toby is called a Stooper because he leans far forward when he stands. All the adults in the Caves of Iron do this, and I wonder if someday I will do it, too. We think this is because they’ve hit their heads so many times in the maze of machinery, the Stoopers prefer to stay hunched over all the time.

There is another kind in the Caves of Iron - the Hooded One’s - who also roam the many passageways. They’re dressed all in black, so sometimes they’re hard to see. Very rarely the dim light of the cave will illuminate a Hooded One’s face, and then it’s obvious these things are not human, they are machine.

You know all about what we eat and who brings it to us, I’m not telling you anything new. You also know the short journey we take in order to use the bathroom. You know this place has an opening that goes all the way down into the void, so when we use the bathroom we

15 never hear a plop. For all we know, those things are still falling weeks after we finish our business. My apologies for sharing this, but a scribe is charged with recording everything, no matter how unusual or mundane.

After you secure the machine on your back with straps, you check over your tool belt and make sure you have everything you need. Then you unplug your helmet from the table and put it on, strapping it under your chin. Your magnifier tucks in under the helmet, resting on your forehead like a third eye. You also check your gear pouch to make sure you have plenty of ammunition. I check mine too, and we discover that I have 12 gears for throwing and you have 11. We probably won’t need them, but there are creatures in the Caves of Iron that we need to be careful of, so it’s always better to be prepared for anything. This is why we always travel together, one to work and one to watch and listen, and it has served us well.

A thick wire screen covers the exit, and you unfasten it and pull it aside. This same wire surrounds our space on the walls, floor, and ceiling, protecting us from outside threats we are both all too aware of. “Stay back ten feet or so,” you say, “and watch your back. The Verms have been active in this area.”

I already know this, because you’ve told me about the message you got on the tablet. Verms travel in small groups of three or four, and sometimes these groups merge together to form a hive. The hives never last long though, because Verms are so aggressive. They kill and eat each other if there is no other food to be found.

16 This too is good, because it keeps their numbers down. “Lights on,” you say, and you flick a switch on your helmet. A bright beam of light travels into the machine, casting oddly shaped shadows down a long corridor. I flick my helmet light on, too.

We enter the machine through the opening. Inside, everything is shadows and iron. The gears and pulleys and pipes combine all around us in a maze of metal. Along our feet lies a ladder-shaped pathway that keeps us from falling through, and we make our way around the first of many corners.

“I wonder what Merrick wants,” I ask you.

You don’t answer, so I let it go. Merrick is our keeper, the one charged with making sure we’re okay. But Merrick is the keeper of many, so we only see him once every few days as he roams the wide expanse of the machine, seeing all of those who are in his charge.

“Someone is coming,” you say.

I can’t see around you, so I don’t know who it is. I assume it will be Merrick coming to find us. But then I see the light dancing wildly in front of you, pointing in different directions as it gets closer. It is not Merrick coming towards us, but Toby the Stooper.

I come alongside you and you speak. “We’re placing a part into the machine today. Can you take the rations ahead and leave them for us?”

17 Toby has stopped and he glances up under a dark brow and unkempt hair. The light he uses to navigate the tunnel is attached to a wooden box he carries. This is why the light danced as it did as he came towards us. Toby is very pale and he has hollow, vacant eyes that stare out at us.

“Seen any Verms?” he asks in a papery voice. He is absorbed in finishing his duty and has no interest in the children of the Caves.

“It’s been clear so far,” you say. “Just leave the rations on the table and we’ll be back soon.”

Toby stares at us and then at the box. I can tell he wants to leave it right where he stands so he can be done with it.

“I’ll leave it here,” he says and begins to set it down.

“If you don’t mind, we’d be grateful if you’d bring it to our table,” you say. “If there are any Verms nearby, they’ll smell the cheese and come running.”

This would cause us problems, and Toby seems to understand this. You look over your shoulder at the thing you’re carrying that we’ve built, and Toby grumbles and shakes his head. Toby the Stooper knows that there is nothing more important than building the machine. If it were to get back to Toby’s superiors that he’d delayed or harmed our work, it would be bad for him.

“Have it your way,” Toby says, and then he drops his head

18 again and pushed his way past us.

When he’s far enough away, I say: “He’s in a sour mood.” “When is he not in a sour mood?” you ask, and I nod and smile in agreement.

You turn a hard corner and I lose sight of you. When I get to the corner and follow, I see that you’re halfway into a smaller opening, your butt and your legs sticking out.

“I’ll go in alone,” you say. “It’s only about twenty feet back. You stay in the corridor and watch for Verms.”

“Okay,” I say, even though I want to go in with you.

I feel afraid inside the machine, away from our table and our things. It’s like we’ve left our home and gone into a dark woods, where we’re unprotected against beasts of prey.

I peak into the hole and see that you’ve removed what we’ve made from your leather pack. You’re in a small, open alcove where you can stand and you lean down and look my way. All I can see is the cyclops eye of your light, and it blinds me until you turn it off. Now I see your face in the light from my own helmet.

“You doing okay out there?” You ask as you pull the magnifier over one eye. “Any sounds we don’t want to hear?”

I listen more carefully for the distant scratch and hiss of

19 approaching Verms.

“All quiet here,” I say nervously. “Better hurry before Merrick gets here.”

You nod once and turn your light on, blinding me until I turn away. When I do, I see something move in the shadows down the corridor.

“Merrick? Is that you?” I ask softly.

There is no answer and I dig my hand into my leather pouch and pull out a gear. I hold it too tightly and the teeth bite the skin on my finger and thumb. I turn and look behind me, towards the sharp turn we took, and I walk slowly back and peer around the corner. There is nothing to see there, only stillness and iron. I feel the distant heat of the cauldron far beneath me. It makes me wonder if the cauldron is heating up, always a sign that the machine is getting ready to start.

When I turn to tell you about this sensation I think I might be feeling, my light lands on a shadow cast by a Verm. My breath catches in my throat and I bite down on my tongue as the shadow of the Verm moves away. When I see it again, it is closer.

“We have company,” I say in a louder voice than I’d been using. “I can handle it.”

The first Verm comes into view, crawling out from the machinery and standing on the ladder pathway. It’s a small one, only about a foot long, and its red eyes are

20 watching me as it moves slowly forward. I know this is a decoy before I turn around because I know how Verms work. But when I look in the direction of home, I’m surprised to see three much larger Verms standing so close. They hiss at me, baring their sharp teeth, and crouch as they move towards me in careful strides. These ones are about two feet long, with extended snouts and thin tails.

I prepare to make my first throw, waiting as I know I must. Verms are impossible to kill unless their air born. These nasty creatures leap with stunning speed, and it’s only then that they expose the one place where they can be damaged - in the chest. When a Verm attacks it leaps, and its front legs splay out. That’s when the chest is an open target. We’ve tried hitting them square in the face and they lower their heads, which are solid as granite. Hitting them in the head only makes them angrier.

The first Verm reels back on its hind legs and launches into the air, heading straight for me. I concentrate on the target - the Verms exposed chest - and I throw. It’s a direct hit and the Verm tumbles backward. The gear is lost and I hear it clanging down into the darkness, but it has done its job.

Three more Verms come out of the shadows, one behind me and two in front.

“I’ve got a good size party going on out here,” I yell. “I could probably use some help.”

I’m not sure if you’ve heard me as I fire two more gears,

21 taking out two more leaping Verms. I hear a hissing noise at my ear and duck instinctively. A Verm has snuck up on me from inside the machinery and it leaps over my head. I am lucky it didn’t crash into my face, and when it lands to my left, I kick it with my boot and send it flying.

From my crouched position I hold a gear, ready to throw, and the remaining Verms seem to understand that this is a fool’s game they will lose. The rest of them back away into the shadows, and I hear them hissing as they move off. But the smaller one remains. It’s a juvenile and maybe it doesn’t know any better. It keeps hissing at me while I move towards it.

“You should go with the others,” I say, emboldened by how well things were going. “Leave now and I’ll let you live.”

I don’t think it can understand what I’m saying, but the Verm scurries away all the same. When I get to the hole you disappeared into I can see that you’re still working.

“Almost done?” I ask. “Quite a bit of action out here today. We’d be smart to get back home where it’s safe.”

“I’m going to need some help,” you say. “This is more complicated than I expected it to be.”

With so many Verms around I don’t feel good about leaving the passageway unguarded, but you never ask for help installing unless you really need it. I look both ways and see no signs of danger. I listen carefully. The Caves of Iron are as quiet as a mouse.

22 After I scurry through the opening and stand inside the alcove, you quickly explain the situation. We are very good at communicating, and I have no trouble understanding what to do.

“I’ll hold these two parts in place while you tighten down the other side,” I say.

“Yeah, exactly. Hold on a second,” you say, and you take a tool from your belt and begin tightening something I can’t see. “Okay, got that part. Now the other side.”

We switch sides, the light from our helmets dancing into the pipes and pulleys.

“Okay, I’ve got the bottom secure,” I say, holding it up with a pry bar from my belt.

A moment passes and I scan the surrounding beams and gears for signs of Verms.

“She’s ready,” you say. “Just need to install the connecting gear and it’s locked into the machine.”

What you mean is that our contraption is in place, but it’s not connected to the huge machine surrounding it. You remove a large gear from your wide pocket. It’s bigger than my whole hand, and it’s wider than most of the gears we make. You hold it between a smaller gear on our contraption and a larger gear in the machine and it slides forward, snapping into position. You take out a tool and tighten down a bolt, then hit the new parts with a drop of oil here and there.

23 “Let’s fire this little guy up and see what it does,” you say.

We don’t expect it to do anything, because usually our additions don’t make the machine come to life. It takes many months to make the machine move.

“I’ll just give it a few cranks, make sure it’s turning properly,” you say.

You take the crankshaft from your belt and insert it into what we’ve built, then give it a few slow turns and pull it out. All the tiny gears turn, inside this thing we have made. It seems to be winding up, building up a head of steam, and then it stops.

You shrug your shoulders. “Looks like it’s working. Let’s head back and start the next piece.”

We turn to go, and when we do, there is a sound behind us. It’s the sound of a larger gear moving. We both watch as all the gears in what we have built begin to spin. Small levers move up and down, and the larger gear we’ve attached to the entire machine starts to spin. “It’s turning on,” you say with wonder.

Suddenly I can feel the heat from the cauldron below as it builds. We see more gears begin to turn, bigger ones. “We need to get out of here,” I say. “Run!”

And so we do.

We scurry through the tunnel and back into the

24 passageway as gears inch their way back to life all around us. They’re barely moving, but they are moving all the same, and this is no place to be when the machine is starting up.

We step out onto the ladder passageway and turn for home and see a pack of four Verms standing in our way.

“Oh come on!” You say. “Of all the days to have a Verm infestation!”

“Get ready for them to leap in tandem!” I yell.

We each take aim as all four Verms leap at once and we hit the first two in midair - POW! POW! We reload in the blink of an eye and throw again, knocking the other flying Verms into the darkness. We hear them tumbling down through the tangle of machinery.

“Nice shooting,” you say, and we’re moving again, running down the passageway as the machine grinds louder and louder.

A voice echoes in the Caves of Iron through thousands of speakers that dot the landscape of pipes and pulleys and gears. “All personnel, evacuate the machine to safety areas. I repeat, evacuate to safety areas. This is not a drill. The machine will be fully activated in five minutes. Five minutes to activation.”

You take the lead and we keep running until I stumble and my knee hits iron with a sharp pain that makes me scream. I’m looking down and my light catches the

25 turning of a gigantic, wide gear as it groans awake. If there were ten of me lying down end to end, it wouldn’t be as wide as this gear, and it is by no means the biggest of them all.

“Winnie!” you say, and seconds later you’re at my side, lifting me up and helping me limp forward.

“I’m okay,” I say. “It’s sore, but I’ll live.”

We arrive at the wire door and find it’s been left open. I hope that no Verms have entered our home.

“Looks like Toby left the door open,” I say. But as we enter and close the gate behind us, I see it was not Toby the Stooper, but someone else.

“You two like to keep it interesting, don’t you?”

Merrick has arrived and he is standing next to our table, eating our cheese.

26 Of Realms and Giants

Merrick is not a Stooper. He does not stoop. This is because he doesn’t have to. You and I are both about four feet tall, and so is Merrick. We are looking him in the eyes as we all stand around the table. He is on one side, we are on the other.

“I really must talk to Toby about bringing me better rations,” Merrick says as he eats some of our berries that are blue. “You two are getting the good stuff.” “I think they’re trying to keep us happy,” you say. “They’ve had us building some very complicated gadgetry lately without a lot of time.”

Merrick takes a long look at the plans for what we’ve just built. It’s hanging from the wire surrounding our space, scrawled onto a sheet of paper.

“You built this?”

You beam and your chin goes up a little higher than it had been. “I did. I mean, we both did. Winnie helped.”

It’s nice that you include me, but we both know the truth - you were the real builder between the two of us. I was just the assistant.

“Let’s hope your head doesn’t get so big it won’t fit through the door,” Merrick says. “You’ll be trapped in this room forever.” You nod, agreeing with Merrick, but you know you’re the best machine builder in the Caves of Iron and you’re not

27 afraid to own it.

“There’s something we need to speak about,” Merrick says. His round nose sniffs the air and he sets the bowl of berries down. “This machine is going to be running at full steam very soon. I can smell the cauldron heating up.”

I sniff the air, but all I smelled is oil and grease from the machine. Maybe it’s the smell of that, heating up, that catches his attention.

Merrick draws a deep breath and sighs, his thick gray brow lowering as he stares at the iron floor. When he looks up again, his bright green eyes darted between us both. Something big is weighing on his mind.

“We don’t have the kind of time I would have liked to have,” he begins. “I would have wanted to explain everything, but a little will have to do.”

“What’s this about?” you ask, confusion and concern rising in your voice. “If they’re going to try and separate Winnie and me, we won’t do it. We’re a team. We stay together.”

You look at me and I feel a wave of appreciation. You could make your way to the highest ranks in the Caves of Iron, and I’m just a lowly scribe. That you say these things means a lot to me.

“It’s not about staying together,” Merrick says. “Although you’ll both need to make a decision about that very

28 thing in a few short moments. So I suppose it does have some meaning here.”

“Merrick, please,” you say. “What have you come to tell us? You’re not making any sense.”

“Alright then. Out with it! The whole shebang,” Merrick says. He seems to be talking to himself. He takes one more big breath and gobbles down another handful of blue berries. “Is there more cheese anywhere, or maybe a piece of chocolate?”

You roll your eyes and then we all feel the Caves of Iron rumble as if a volcano is about to erupt underneath us. The gears all around the room begin moving more quickly and loudly, and this seems to finally move Merrick to say what he needed to say.

“The two of you have not been in the Caves of Iron your entire lives. You were somewhere else before all this.” “That’s not true,” I say. “I’ve always been here. We both have.”

Merrick shook his head. “No, Winnie. You haven’t.”

He looks at me and takes a step closer, sadness filling his eyes. “Your parents were killed, and not here in the caves. They were killed up there.”

Merrick looks towards the ceiling and I look up, too. The gears are turning and turning and turning. “I don’t understand,” I say. “There’s nothing up there but the machine.”

29 “Oh, but you are wrong, Winnie,” Merrick says. “There is much more than the machine. There is the outside.”

Merrick lets that sink in, then he looks at you. “And you, my boy. You, too, have parents who are not from the Caves of Iron. But your parents are alive. And it’s time you found them.”

I look at your face and wonder what you’re thinking. I wish my parents were alive too, but I am happy at least one of us can hope for something more than the lives we have. A part of me is very jealous of you, but I try to stuff those feelings down as deep as they will go. “That’s impossible,” you say. “It’s not right. I’ve always been here.”

Merrick continues, and the news gets stranger than I could have imagined. “This machine has a purpose. Do you want to know what it is?”

I don’t know for sure about you, but I definitely want to know what this machine is for. You don’t move or speak, so I nudge your shoulder and nod, raising my brows as I do. Come on! Of course we want to know!

You turn to Merrick.

“I don’t believe any of this,” you say with a look of determination on your face. But then, like me, your curiosity takes over. “What is the machine for?” Merrick rubs his two small hands together and seems to be thinking of many things at once. His mind is racing. He eats a handful of the blue berries.

30 “You are both under the Realms of Towervale,” he begins. “There are few who know this in the Caves of Iron, but I know. I know because I used to be your father’s scribe.”

This warms my heart because after you, Merrick is my favorite person in the world. To think that he, too, is a scribe, makes me feel very important. He gets down on one knee and looks up at you. It is weird.

“Your father is the rightful ruler of the Realms above. Your mother is his constant companion. And that makes you a prince.”

My head is spinning, but yours seems to be bubbling with anger.

“Why are you telling us a wild tale like this?” you yell over the sound of the gears grinding. “The machine is starting up because of work Winnie and I did. Don’t you want me to enjoy this moment? I helped make this happen and I’m proud of it. Without me, the machine wouldn’t run at all.”

“My boy, what you must understand is a hard thing,” Merrick says as he stands back up to his full four feet. “This machine is your enemy. What you are building is destroying the very place you came from.”

“I have never been more confused in my entire life,” you say. And I have to admit, I feel the same way. Merrick is talking crazy.

“There is a tower in the middle of the Realms,” Merrick

31 says, quickening his pace as if the time is very short for explaining things.

The machine is getting louder. It’s getting harder to hear what he’s saying, but I feel as though what he’s about to say will change our lives forever.

“Each time this machine starts up, the tower rises higher into the air.,” Merrick continues. “That’s the purpose of the machine: to make the tower rise. The Tower Master lives inside. It is he who rules the Realms now. He will destroy everything, but there is one person who can stop that from happening.”

“Who?” I ask.

Merrick looks into your eyes and pauses. Then he says the word I hope he will say.

“You.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “Your parents knew the Tower Master would have you killed if he could find you. And so they sent me here, and I brought you with me. You have been hidden all these many years, in a place where the Tower Master cannot find you. But there is a problem.”

You seem to be starting to believe the story, but those words - there is a problem - hit you like a punch in the gut.

“Tell me,” you say. And I can see that something deep

32 inside you believes. You believe this is all true.

“The Tower Master has found you,” Merrick says. “It was that Stooper Toby. He brings me my rations, too. He must have looked through my writings and found a clue to who you were. Stupid, stupid thing to do! Leaving a clue that might be found. He has sent word through the ranks and that word has reached the highest keep of the tower. Our secret is known.”

“And you think he’s going to come and kill me?” you ask.

“No,” Merrick says. “I know he’s going to come here. And I know he will kill you. But he won’t do that until the machine stops moving. He will want to be in his tower as it rises higher into the sky. He won’t want to miss that. But the moment this machine stops, he will come. And he will end you both.”

“Not if we get out of here first,” you say.

“That’s the spirit!” Merrick claps his hands together. “And the sooner the better. The farther you’re away from here before he comes, the better chance you have.” “Chance for what?” I ask, and I hope Merrick will say more than just escaping with our lives. He does not disappoint me.

“A chance to save the Realms, release your parents, and restore the world to its rightful place.”

You walk to one of our boxes full of parts and grab a leather bag. When you have it open, you pour the

33 contents on the table.

“We should take extras, in case we need them.”

There on the table are dozens of throwing gears. We both load up several small leather bags and tie them onto our belts. We must have 30 or more each. While we did this, the machine rumbled louder and Merrick dashed around the room.

“Take the cheese and the bread, you’ll need it. And keep your tool belts. Outside there are many machines and locks. Your tools will help you along the way. There are many dangers in the Realms as well, so you must be constantly on your guard. There are giants made of stone and river keepers and --”

“Wait,” I say. “Stone giants?”

“Yes, Winnie. There are such wonders in the world. There are many Hooded One’s who serve the Tower Master up there. And there is the Barzog.”

Merrick’s voice trembles at the sound of that word. The Barzog. He shakes his head and goes on. “But if you’re careful, you can survive these things. Take this, it will tell you what you need to know.”

We both look up and see that Merrick is holding out a small journal of maybe fifty pages. The outside is worn leather. I am a scribe, like Merrick. This will be my treasure to hold and no one else.

34 “What is it?” I ask as I reach out for the item.

Merrick let the journal slip through his fingers as I pull it away. “It is everything.”

I want him to tell me more, but the Caves shake violently and the biggest of the gears begin to move. Giant pulleys rock up and down outside the room that is our home.

“There are many sections to that journal, and I caution you not to open them until you know you should,” Merrick warns me. He gets a funny look on his face and rubs his thumbs into his eyes, then he continues. “Each section is shut with a wax seal. Don’t break the seals until you’re sure you’ve arrived at the right time. Trust me on this. It is the only way.”

“But why can’t we look at it all at once?” I protest.

“Because, if you knew the entire journey, you wouldn’t go. It’s better if you only know a little at a time. It will keep you focused. It will keep you from worry. Promise me you will follow this order.”

“Of course I will,” I say, and one scribe to another, I know my word is everything. “Now that you explain it that way, it does make sense. One day at a time, I like that.”

Merrick looks at you. “Give me two coins, three gems, and one star. You will have need of the rest in due time, but these I must have for my own purpose.”

You don’t hesitate, because you have always trusted

35 Merrick. If he needs two coins, three gems, and one star, there must be an important reason. Merrick puts these items in one pocket, then reaches into another and takes out a small stone about the size of my big toe. He holds it delicately in his hand. “Come here, both of you. There’s something I need to give you.”

Now you must play a level of your game! You have forgotten how to win this level, but I will remind you. Don’t read the next paragraph, you’ll be reading the wrong part! Go to Towervalegame.com and enter this password: cavesofiron. Win this level and the game will tell you where to turn to next in the book. Here is how to beat the level: first pick up two gold coins, then pick up three gems, then pick up one star. You must do these things in exactly the order shown or you die in your game! See you back here in the book when you find the correct page to turn to. If you’d rather play on a mobile device search for Towervale in the app stores. ______

36 This is the end of the sample section for Towervale. Youve reached the first password and video game level - are you ready to read about everything else you've done?

To order Towervale, visit www.towervale.com We hope to see you on the inside!

Find Towervale in Minecraft! You can journey through the world of Towervale and find hidden game levels along the way!

All the details for how to access the world build are included below.

Finding the Towervale Minecraft Build using the desktop version

On the Minecraft login page, choose Multiplayer. On the next screen, choose Direct Connect. For the server, type in play.towervalemc.com.

You’ll be automatically spawned at the starting point in the book in the Caves of Iron.

Finding the Towervale world on the pocket edition

(X-Box, PS4, Nintendo Switch, phone app) Address: 108.60.210.33 Port: 27650

You’ll be spawned in the sky above Towervale.

Towervale in Minecraft is not required to read and play this book, but it’s there if you want to see all the places you’ll find on your adventure.