A Wizard of the White Council by Jonathan Moeller

Remember those things you thought were mountains?”
    “Yes.” He had glimpsed them through the window of the marvelous vehicle Robert had called an elevated train. They looked like strange, angular mountains. “So what about them? Are they truly mountains?”
    “Come on, I’ll show you.” 
    Jeeps buzzed up and down the street, while men and women on foot hurried along the sidewalk. Almost all the people wore dark clothes, the fabrics gray or black. The women wore dresses with jackets, though the skirts still seemed high to Arran. 
    “So these mountains,” said Arran. “They are the strangest mountains I have seen.”
    Robert laughed. “They’re not mountains, Mr. Belphon. They’re towers. You know, buildings.”
    That was astonishing. “Buildings?”
    “Yup,” said Robert. They turned a corner. “Look at the Chicago skyline for yourself.”
    Arran froze. “By all the gods that ever were.”
    Dozens of huge towers stood clustered in the heart of the Chicago. Some were brown, some gray, others a gleaming black. They were not as large as the Tower of Endless Worlds, of course, but forces unknown had reared that Tower. “Men built these things?” 
    “Yup.” Robert’s laughter redoubled. “Mr. Belphon, you’d better close your mouth. A bug’s going to fly in there if you don’t.” 
    Arran shook his head. “What are these towers used for?”
    “Business, I guess.” Robert shrugged. “They’re called skyscrapers.” 
    “I can see why. You mean merchants’ guilds?” 
    “Maybe.” He pointed at the biggest of the towers, a colossal black building crowned with two white spires. “That’s the Willis Tower. It used to be the headquarters of Sears, a place that sells clothes and drills and stuff. But now my dad says the Japanese own that building.” 
    “If you say so.” Arran stared up at the great black tower. “Do you know how many people live in Chicago?” 
    Robert grinned. “Say. If you want to see how big Chicago really is, then come with me.” He crossed the street and headed for the Willis Tower, Arran following. Robert steered his way through the crowds with deft skill. They passed a number of shops, their front windows stuffed with all manner of exotic merchandise. Food smells filled the air, and Arran's stomach grumbled. He would stop and have some jerky after Robert showed him the Willis Tower.
    They soon reached the front doors of skyscraper, a massive edifice of polished glass and gleaming steel. Robert led him into a front gallery, polished stone gleaming beneath his shoes. They stood in line for some time, and Robert paid some money to a clerk at a counter.
    “You’ve been here before,” said Arran, staring at the strange architecture. 
    “Yup.” Robert handed him a small piece of stiff paper. “Here’s your ticket.” 
    “Ticket?” said Arran. “Ticket to what?”
    “The observation gallery. It’s a good view. You can see the city for miles. We go this way.” They walked down a corridor illuminated by lamps set in the ceiling. “Here we go.” A row of black metal doors stood in the wall. Robert pressed a button and waited. One of the doors slid open, revealing a small gray room. 
    “What’s this?” said Arran. 
    Robert walked inside. “An elevator. Aren’t you coming?” 
    “Very well.” Arran stepped inside. “But I thought we were going to the top of the tower…”
    The small room lurched, and Arran grabbed at the wall for support. “What’s happening?”
    Robert laughed. “Did you think we were going to take all those stairs up? It’s a long walk.”
    Arran’s ears popped. “So what is this thing?”
    “An elevator." Arran gave him a look of incomprehension, and Robert sighed. "It’s a big box that’s pulled up and down a tube by a metal cable. Beats taking the stairs for a hundred floors.” He gave Arran a strange look. “You’ve never seen an elevator before, have you? You must have come from a really foreign