It doesn't take long for the port to transform into a scene of organized chaos.

Soldiers swarm over the deck of the airship, loading their weapons and hauling provisions for the journey. The radio at my hip crackles with last-minute communications, the operators and Technicians struggling to put together a plan for how Babel will be run in my absence. I listen with half an ear as I dart amongst the airship's rigging and make my inspections, wrenching violently on the knots in an effort to forget the hole in my chest. The red has remained firmly in place since letting Luca go.

"Are the other ships ready?" I shout down to the pair of engineers below me.

"Just loading the extra canisters of helium, now!" One of them bellows back. "And forty crewmembers for each ship are accounted for."

"Make it fifty." Given the amount of Brutes that Luca warned about I don't want to take any chances. Picking my way across the rigging I grab a length of rope and swing down onto the deck. "How soon can we launch?"

"Within the hour." The captain has come over to join us, tipping her cap in greeting. "And the god of luck seems to be on our side: I've just received a report that the Vane is detecting a westerly wind."

"Excellent." I turn my face up to the breeze, breathing in the metallic scent of coming rain.

"I'm receiving more news from the hangar, Captain." The radio operator seated at the switchboard behind us speaks up. "There's a storm brewing in the direction we're headed."

"Keep us updated as to it's whereabouts." I tell him, knowing with a sudden certainty that I'll find what I'm looking for in the center of that storm.

"Yes, Mistress."

A shrill signal sounds from the smaller radio attached to my waist and I bring it up to my ear, not bothering to hide my irritation. "What?"

"Apologies, Mistress. Detention wants to know how they should handle the offenders taken from the laboratory."

A pit forms in my stomach. The captain and engineers are watching me expectantly, brows raised while they wait for me to give an order and get back to planning our hunt. I exhale a sigh through clenched teeth, allowing the red to provide it's numbing effects as I press down on the trigger.

"Let them take the place of the Brutes they stole from me." I say darkly. Switching the device off to silence the distracting chatter I nod to my crew. "Let's go catch us a Madam."

One hundred and fifty well-armed men and women are assembled in record time. I plant myself at the fore of our fastest ship and look out across the rows of grim-faced soldiers. Frye's sentiments about my army being made up of lowlife savages has some truth to it now that I see them all gathered in one place.

Out on the pier the stationmaster blows his whistle. The ship shudders, coming to life while a whirring and humming stem from the panel at my back.

"Prepare to cast off!" The captain shouts and I spring into action, taking up the rope nearest me and beginning to unwind it, My hands shake as the distinct thrill of adventure courses through me.

"Mistress?" The operator calls out. "The control tower wants to speak to you."

I wave him off, making quick work of the knot and pulling loose the cords that bind the ship to the ground.

"Halt takeoff procedures!"

I freeze at the captain's command, the rope pulling taut in my hands.

"Mistress?" Her annoyed expression mirrors my own as she gestures me over to the switchboard. "They're saying it's urgent."

A growl escapes me as I retie the knot and stalk over, wrenching the speaker from the hand of the ship's operator. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry, Mistress." The operator manning the control tower says, "We're receiving a transmission from the City."

A hollow thud beats against my chest and I struggle to keep my face blank. "Patch it through."

I hear the shrill sting of feedback and then a voice sounds through the miles, "Kay?"

I furrow my brow, struggling to listen. "Who is this?"

"Kay, it's—"  The hovering airship rises higher and the voice fades to a crackle. I curse, tossing the speaker down and taking off for the railing.

"Hold the ship!" I instruct before vaulting over and jumping down onto the pier, ignoring the shouts of surprise that follow my sudden disappearance. Yanking the radio free of my waist I switch it on, turning the dial until I find the City again.

"Marc?" I ask breathlessly. "Is that you?"

A beat passes and then, "It's good to hear your voice."

"Yeah, you too." My eyes flick up to the hovering airship, "Marc, this isn't really a good time."

"Yes well, it's not so great over here, either." Marc quips. "We've had some uninvited guests."

Dread turns my blood cold. "The Madam's there? Are you alright? Is Meg? My brother?"

"They're fine, we're all fine. But...it's not looking good. We're in trouble."

"What's happening?"

"She's constructed something. It looks a lot like your Vane, only bigger. A lot bigger."

"Does she know you're talking with me?"

"No. She's got those unfriendly robot-types stationed around the Palace and barring access to our radio tower, Gus and I had to rig up an alternative so that we could have this conversation without prying ears. I'm so glad that I was finally able to get through to you." I can hear the relief in his voice.

"I'm on my way," I assure him. "Literally right this moment I'm preparing to take off."

"It's not that simple." Marc warns. "The rainstorm's already started."

"A storm?" I walk rapidly down the pier, pretending not to notice the stares being shot from the ships overhead. "What storm?"

"The one she started brewing almost the instant she arrived."

Marc explains quickly. The Madam's airship stole into the City under cover of night, unleashing a cascade of Brutes upon the Palace. With the Queen trapped inside, the Miners and Meg's army were forced to comply with the Madam's demands and keep their distance.

"Lucky that Gus and I happened to be in residence that day." Marc continues. "So the three of us were able to hatch a way to contact you."

He goes on to say that the Madam has since sealed herself inside Meg's apartments and assembled a new Vane. As he speaks I glance up, squinting at the sky framing the ships' great, silver balloons. Grey clouds slip past with surprising frequency, riding the promised wind toward the City and my vengeance.

"It started raining a couple of hours ago and is getting worse every minute. At this rate..." Marc pauses for so long that I begin to fear he's been caught. "I don't think we have much time left. Gus' fear is that if this thing gets much bigger that it'll take out more than just the City."

A chill runs through me at the thought of a rainstorm with the potential to wipe out an entire City, an entire desert.

An entire world.

"We have to disable it." I urge. "Can you get close to the Vane? You still have freedom within the Palace, don't you?"

"Some. The Queen has instructed us to play model prisoners." From his tone I can tell that Marc is less-than pleased with Meg's plan. "But we can't get near that contraption. Gus and I are only able to guess at how it works: it's got to use some kind of power source but gods' know what that is. The bloody thing seems to be entirely wireless."

I stop in my tracks, finding myself at the end of the pier and face-to-face with the gateway back to Babel. I remember the Techs' warnings about our own Vane working at only partial capacity and their theory that it's power was being throttled by something unseen.

"It steals power through the air." I conclude as the radio falls back to my side.

This place is what's giving power to the Madam's new Vane. The only way to stop feeding the storm is to shut down Babel.

"I'm coming." I repeat my promise, spinning on my heel and hurrying back toward the airships. "Just hold on a little while longer."

"You're not going to be able to land an airship within twenty miles of here, the way this storm is shaping up."

"I've got the best pilots Babel has to offer." I say grimly. "We'll get there."

"I'm telling you, flying in would be suicide. You have to find another way." Seconds before Marc releases his trigger I hear another voice speaking to him.

The cold hand of desperation seizes my heart. Looking up once more to the gathering sky I notice that the clouds have already begun to darken.

"I'll figure something out," I tell him. "Just sit tight."

"Shi—"

Marc goes abruptly silent and I break into a run. "Marc? Marc, are you still there?"

Several heart-stopping seconds pass and my radio sparks back to life. "I have to go. Someone's coming. I'll try you again later."

"Stay safe." I speak into the vacant static, arriving back beneath the airships.

My mind races. We need to shut off the generator; it's the only way to turn off Babel's power and stop the storm brewing over the City. Tuning to another channel I squeeze the trigger, "How much truth is there to what they're saying?"

"Our readings are definitely showing a steady decrease in barometric pressure."

Ignoring my worsening dread I give the order to shut off the generator. Even as I spout the demand a needle of doubt scratches the base of my skull, a needle that digs deeper as one of my chief Technicians radios in.

"Forgive my intrusion, Mistress," The Tech's nasally voice grates my already-fractured nerves. "But if you truly mean to prevent airborne power absorption then turning off the generator won't be enough."

Panic sets in as the Technician reminds me of what I already knew but conveniently forgot: the stores of Burn-infused lithium batteries housed throughout Babel will keep the lights on and the Vane running long after the generator has gone silent.

"How much time will it take to turn off our power completely?" I ask, my question sounding hopeless to my own ears.

"A few days, at least. We'd have to dig up the schematics, locate all the batteries and even then—"

"I get it." My mind races, the needle transformed into a broadsword. Those accursed, ingenious batteries will keep feeding the storm even without the help of a windfarm. Destroying the generator won't be enough.

I have to destroy Babel.

No.

The whispers begin their protest the instant I arrive at the answer. I rub my temple in an attempt to quiet them but the demons only shriek louder.

There has to be another way.

Think, Kay. Think.

"Mistress?" The voices in my radio feed the chaos. Holding my head in my hands I curse the Madam, the Vane and my scrambled mind. "Mistress, what do you want us to do?"

Red worsens my headache. I can't think clearly; whispers and storms and static create a whirlwind I can't escape from. For the first time since Will dropped me from that godsforsaken airship I crave the certainty that comes with feeling.

"Mistress?" The radio sounds again, "We're receiving another transmission."

I turn the dial blindly, my sweat-dampened hands nearly causing the radio to fall to the ground.

"Marc?" I rasp into the speaker. "Are you alright?"

A pause, then, "...Kay?"

I freeze when I recognize the voice, staring disbelievingly at the hunk of metal. My mouth has gone suddenly dry, the words sticking to my throat.

"Kay?" Meg asks again. "Are you there?"

"I'm..." I swallow. "I'm here."

"We need your help." She says bluntly. "You were right. She needs to be stopped."

Still unsure whether or not my mind is playing tricks on me I speak carefully. "Then stop her. Command your army to overrun the Palace and tear that Vane down."

"They won't do it." Meg insists. "I've tried asking, begging and ordering. As long as she's got me locked in here the City won't take any action. You're our last hope."

Hearing my old friend's voice causes the floodgates to open. "I can't do it, Meg." I tell her, my voice breaking. "To cut off her power I'd have to destroy Babel. I'd have to let go of everything I've fought for."

Meg is silent for a spell. When she finally responds it is with the careful, measured notes of a Queen.

"You have to make a choice." She says grimly. "I'm sorry that it's come to this and believe me, I wouldn't be asking if it weren't a matter of life and death. The Madam and this storm are going to tear our home apart." In the background I can hear howling wind and an ominous rattle.

Our home.

No, Babel is my home now. I earned it through my blood and my tears. I can't give it up, not after everything I've been through to get here. I let my old self, all of my friends and my only family go just to keep it. Frye...Luca. I gave all of them up on the sliver of hope that I could bring Will back. Babel is my only chance of doing that and without it, I have nothing.

"Kay?" Meg breaks through the fog. "Kay, listen to me. I know that we didn't end things on the best terms and I know I never thanked you for everything you've done for us since the famine—"

"You shouldn't thank me." I break in. "What I did to you was horrible."

"It doesn't matter." She rushes on. "None of that matters because what's happening is larger than you and I. It's larger than all of us. If we don't stop her then she's going to bring down an apocalypse worth ten Burns."

I tap the radio against my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut tight. Rain-dampened wind bites my skin, a cruel indifference pushing me toward an even crueller fate.

"I have to go." The slight waver in Meg's voice might be imagined. "I love you, Kay. I know you'll do the right thing."

A final screech of static and I am left alone, standing surrounded by waiting ships and a ready army. Red throbs mightily as I ease my eyes open, staring past the crowd and out into the desert beyond. The taste of metal fills my mouth as I slowly bring the speaker back to my lips.

"Get me Tawny."