Climb Every Tower
Robbie fiddled with the candy cane tucked in her shirt pocket to identify her to her contact, then tipped her head back and stared up at the tangle of ironwork disappearing into the fog above her. Rumour claimed that every girder was forged from the souls caught by the Puppets, and every time someone new was caught, the Tower got that little bit taller. She certainly couldn't see the top of it, not from down here.
Ten more minutes, she told herself, and then she was retreating to her fall-back position.
It was only five minutes before she heard quiet footsteps, and then her sharp ears caught the mumur of someone directing the Puppets. She flinched despite herself, as the mist began to swirl on both sides of her.
She was trapped. Her contact had either been caught, or had betrayed her willingly. She looked upwards. If she was going to be caught and turned into part of the Tower anyway, she might as well explore it of her own free will first and satisfy her curiosity. She reached for a girder, and began to climb.