When I crack open my eyes, the rays of the late afternoon sun are the first to greet me. Second is Luca's discarded pack and third is his imprint in the sand. Sitting up, I rub my hands over my face, groaning when I remember how we collapsed to sleep before I could properly clean up from the battle in the airship hangar. My stomach rumbles, another reminder of something I have yet to do.

The soft tread of Luca's footsteps draws my attention. He crests the slope across from me, a bundle of sticks clenched in his hands and his hair damp and shining in the orange light.

"There is a pool down below." He drops the sticks onto a piece of flattened land within our makeshift campsite. "I already filled our flasks, so it is all yours."

"Thanks," I rise carefully, biting back a grunt when my knee protests. Luca raises his brows in question as I regain my balance. "I'm fine."

Limping past him, I wait until I am out of sight before stripping off pieces of my clothing, the siren call of a bath too precious to waste time on. Signs of the storm are everywhere, punctuated by broken shrubbery and dimpled sand. Casting aside my belt and boots, I find the pool just where Luca said it would be, tucked behind some weeds at the base of the hill. I undress completely and sink into the water, revelling in the feeling of my cuts and bruises being soothed into submission. After several minutes of revelry I take a deep breath and plunge beneath the surface, digging my fingers into my hair to cleanse it of it's dye and marvelling at the sight of inky vapours twisting away from me before disappearing into the murky beyond.

When I emerge back in the desert I grab fistfuls of sand from the shore, rubbing vigorously at my skin as though I could slough it free of my bones. It is only when I begin to shiver from the cooling air that I emerge, picking up my clothes and scrubbing them as well before laying them out to dry on a rock.

Retrieving my father's dagger from my discarded boot, I lash it to the end of one of the shoreline's sturdier stalks and make my way back into the water. When the ripples lapping at my shins clear I begin to search, patiently studying the water's surface. It doesn't take long for a flash of silver to catch my attention. Spearing four fish in relatively quick succession I dress once more and make my way back up the hill, finding Luca crouched in front of a campfire.

He looks up at my approach, quirking a small grin in greeting. We manage to avoid speaking by concentrating on our tasks, me on the fish and he on the fire. Coming back to sit, I place the skewers across the bed of coals and settle in, sighing a little as the heat from the flames finishes drying my clothes.

Luca gives the coals a stir before sitting back as well. He doesn't so much as glance in my direction but comments, nonetheless. "Your true hair has returned."

I nod gravely. "It would appear so."

"Look how the fire trembles before it's competition."

A snort of laughter escapes me. Looking over I catch his eyes crinkling at the corners, pleased to have broken the tension.

"How is your knee?" He asks.

"A bit stiff." I admit, unfolding my left leg gingerly. "Though I expect I'll live."

"There are some leaves and my attempt at Cade's potion, over there." Luca nods over my shoulder, indicating the items stacked nearby. "Use it at your own risk."

"Gladly." I grimace as I begin rolling up my trouser leg. "Are you not the least bit sore? I feel like I've been run over."

"I have felt better." He shrugs. "The rest is doing me some good."

"It's a shame we can't linger too long." I say, frowning at the darkening sky, "Tawny will only wait a short time and this is my last chance to speak with Jaron and the others before we strike."

"We have time." Luca leans forward, calmly checking the underside of one of the fish before placing it back down. "This part is important, also."

I reach for the small pot of medicine beside me and wrinkle my nose at the sour notes permeating off it.

"Smells about right." I remark, dipping one of the leaves in the pot to coat it.

The old ritual of cooking a meal is easy to fall into. We allow the crackling of flames to fill the silence as I dress my leg and Luca rotates the meat with a practiced precision..

"Well? What is the verdict?" Luca carefully lifts one of the skewers. "Will you require an amputation?"

"Not today." I speak through clenched teeth, hissing as the medicine does it's work. "Pity, really. I expect an amputation would sting less than Cade's medicine."

"I do not doubt it." He places his dinner aside and checks on mine, patiently waiting for it to turn my preferred colour.

The last leaf applied, I wipe my hands on my thighs and shoot Luca a grateful smile when he hands me my plate. We tuck in, eating slowly and savouring the meal. Though the fish is remarkably plain, I can't help but feel that it rivals any Palace feast.

"So..." Once my stomach is quieted, my thoughts are free to clear. "What of that weather last night?"

Luca snorts, placing a fist over his mouth to keep from coughing. "That is how you choose to begin?"

I shrug, suppressing a grin as I pop a bit of food into my mouth. "It's as good a place to start as any. Besides, what if I never get another opportunity to comment on the weather?"

"Fair point." He concedes. Tilting his head up at the sky, he appears to study the barely-visible stars. "What a place to begin. I truly do not have any words for what we saw."

A shiver runs down my spine at the memory of water falling unbidden from above. "Rain." At first, I don't realize that I'm speaking out loud. "Tell me you saw that as well, otherwise I'm going to think that I've lost it for good."

"It was real." Luca confirms, tossing another log into the fire. "Gods know how, but the Madam has managed to conjure real rain."

Visions of lush jungles and flowing rivers flood me, the false memories of the pre-apocalyptic world soon accompanied by a ravenous hunger. The Madam's fanaticism and ungodly science could actually mean the difference between survival and extinction.

"It had to be her." I shake my head, disbelieving. "The one person I'm trying to destroy is going to save us all."

"Sometimes, I think that our lives are just jokes for the gods to play on one another."

"That is one possible explanation." I say, unfurling my clenched fists. "Another would be that everything we are doing is random nonsense and that none of it really amounts to anything."

"I am not so sure of that. Even small acts can have great impact."

I glance over. Luca is lost back in the fire with a strange little smile playing on his lips. As I watch the smile falls, vanishing completely when his blue eyes darken.

"What is it?" I ask.

He doesn't reply.

"Luca," I speak louder, pulling him away from the flames. "Come back. Tell me what's bothering you."

His heavy sigh holds the weight of a thousand battles. "It is just... I have tried to distance myself from my brother's hunter. I had hoped those days were behind me and I hoped..." He trails off as he searches for the words. "I wanted to keep you from seeing what I can do."

Something twists within me. "I'm the last person whose opinion should matter. I've spent the better part of a year making one questionable decision after another."

"You have your reasons." Luca's gaze rises to meet mine. "And in truth, I believe that you are owed your vengeance."

"Then you know what I saw doesn't change anything for me."

"It is not only that."

I remain silent, waiting.

He takes a breath. "I am embarrassed of my behaviour. You should not have had to take such drastic actions in order to bring me about."

"Oh." I blame the fire for the heat in my cheeks.

"It is all right," He runs a hand through his hair. "I know you did not intend for your kiss to mean anything."

"I meant it." The truth slips free of my lips.

Luca turns as still as a statue. "You did?"

Searching his face, I choose my words deliberately. "Kissing you was the most honest thing I've done in months."

The cautious smile tugging at his mouth is infectious and I duck my chin as my face burns hotter. Looking down, I notice that his hand has moved closer to mine and in the heartbeat before grief pulls me back under, I want nothing more than to close the space between us.

Pulling my hand back reluctantly, I clutch it to my chest and shut my eyes as the scene plays itself out, once again. Will's last words cut short by the sting of a needle, his body disappearing from sight as an unending scream turns my throat raw. The smoke clears and I see his familiar form reinforced by a set of armoured shoulders. His head swivels towards me, his cold, grey eyes accusing.

When I finally locate my voice, I find it hoarse. "It isn't fair."

"Which part?"

"All of it." I force my eyes open. "It isn't fair that our survival rests in the hands of the most evil person imaginable. It isn't fair that your tribe made you into a hunter and then condemned you for it,"

Taking a breath, I rub my chest as if I could ease the ache beneath. "And it isn't fair that every time I get closer to you, I think of him."

The hurt I find when I finally meet Luca's gaze slices my heart anew, the pain eclipsed only by the relief that keeping him at bay means keeping him safe.

"I'm sorry." I whisper.

"You should not be." He shakes his head slowly. "What I said to you before was not true: you never had me trapped, Kay. You warned me not to follow you, but I did anyway."

I hug my knees to my chest. "Why did you?"

"I would think that you, of all people would understand." His foot nudges mine, bringing my eyes back to his. "That any chance, no matter how small is worth taking."

He extends his arm and I lean into him wordlessly, nestling beneath his chin as he holds me tightly. We remain that way for a long time, staring into the fire while the night grows colder and the stars burn brighter. It is only when the flames turn to coals that we gather our scant belongings and disappear into the wilds, letting the silent, shifting sand hide all traces that we ever existed at all.

At dawn we rest again and by the time we break camp my knee is feeling strong enough to run. Great, sweeping plains and towering dunes pass us by as we fly across the desert, sandwiched between earth and sky. Clambering up the side of the dune just as the sun sets on it's peak we find the Waster encampment.

My eyes stretch wide. The few ramshackle tents have multiplied a hundredfold, the canopies now reaching from the base of one mountain to another. Jaron's impressive collection of siege weaponry has also grown exponentially, battering rams and catapults joined by the newly-constructed trebuchets.

As if sensing my hesitation, Luca speaks first, "More than you expected?"

"A lot more." I breathe.

"This is what you wanted." He reminds me.

"I know."

"Is it still what you want?"

I turn to look at him, pausing for only the briefest of instants before giving my answer. "Yes."

He nods. "Then lead the way."

A curtain of golden sand unfurls behind us as we slide down the side of the dune and into the camp, where we are immediately met by shouts and the sounds of celebration. I allow myself to be swept up in the revelry, casting one last glance back towards Luca. As expected, he is nowhere to be found, having disappeared the moment the crowd descended.

The words Runner and Chieftain are flung about as bodies press in around me. I fall back into an old trick and let my natural brazenness shine through, clapping friends and strangers on their shoulders while being propelled into the center of the camp, keeping my eyes peeled for a warlord.

Jaron does not disappoint. Towering head and shoulders above every other person in the makeshift settlement, he looks up at my approach and halts in his conversation to greet me.

"Chief." His expression is unreadable but he nods cordially enough, mindful of our audience. "Welcome home."

"Thanks." I grin, tilting my head. "Seems we've had a few new arrivals since I was here last."

A distant voice calls, "We follow the Runner!" and the cry is picked up in unison. I laugh good-naturedly, ignoring the uncomfortable clench in my stomach.

"Does your return to camp mean what I think it does?" Jaron crosses his huge arms as the warriors hoot their readiness. "Has the time for war finally come?"

"It surely has." I have to shout to be heard. "Babel is ours for the taking!"

A roar rings out as a wicked smile pulls at my lips. I grow taller beneath my warriors, feeding off the fire they burn.

"I have been both inside and out," My view is filled by more and more people, the spaces between the tents darkened by the sheer mass. "I have tested it's defenses and found them lacking. I have sabotaged it's communications and airfleet. I have punched holes in it's exterior. My part is nearly done and soon, the turn will be yours!"

The Wasters lead my warriors in a chant, beginning by humming their war song in great, rumbling tones while driving their weapons into the ground. Miners, nomads and even Jaron's mercenaries join in, adding their voices to the increasingly-fearsome war cry. I fight to stay upright atop unsteady legs, screaming myself hoarse, flying and falling as the chant washes over me. A drink is blessedly pressed into my hand as our cry reaches it's crescendo and I step out into the festivities, careful to sip slowly as to keep a clear head.

People clamber to talk to me, surrounding me everywhere I go. I keep an easy smile pasted on my face, never lingering in one spot for too long as I drift through the too-crowded camp. All the while Jaron floats in my peripherals, not to be overshadowed by my return from the front.

"Kay!" I turn immediately at the sound of my name, foreign amongst the other false titles. A freckled face grins brightly and I fairly shriek with joy, all others forgotten as I throw myself into my brother's arms.

"Frye." I hug his skinny frame tightly, breathing in the scent of the City.

"Heya, sis." He laughs.

"What in the Burn are you doing here?" Suddenly remembering, I shove him back.

"Fine greeting, that is," Frye's green eyes sparkle mischievously. "And after I traveled such a long way."

"You're too bony to fight." I tease. "So war can't be much of a draw for you. Let me guess: you're here to provide comfort to the soon-to-be-displaced Babelonian girls."

"Actually, I came here with someone."

"Who?" I peer over his shoulder, nearly dropping my drink when I see what is lingering behind.

Long lashes peak up at me through locks of brassy blonde hair. Her hands twist tightly before her, her wrists noticeably free of the noisy rows of bracelets.

Lara.