I said, pressing one hand on the flimsy wall beside me as the tower above the library swayed in the wind. I swore under my breath as the entire thing leaned to the left. Overhead, the huge, two-ton bell creaked ominously on its hinges. “Rory, you keep forgetting,” Joaquin said from the winding stairs just below me. “I know, I know. We can’t die,” I said through my teeth. “But you’d think that would negate this serious need I have to murder you right now.” Joaquin laughed, and even with all the vertigo, the sound warmed my heart. “Just keep going. You’re almost there.” I held my breath and climbed the last five rickety steps to the very top of the bell tower. Tall arched windows looked out in every direction over the island, and a two-foot-wide plank walkway circled the opening under the bell, which stretched down the ten stories to the floor of the building far below. My heart pounded from the climb, from the height, and from the whistling wind that seemed to blast through every one of those windows at once.
