LUCA

Rain thrums heavily, it's relentless rhythm pulling me out of my head and back into the run. I tilt my chin up to catch the drops, their metallic scent reminding me of Babel's tight quarters and the darkness that lingers there. I have cut all ties to the dome and yet it still feels as though I am tethered to something.

Or someone.

Pushing the image of red hair and green eyes aside I set my pace as though I could outrun all thoughts of her. Over and over I berate myself for being so foolish, for thinking that I could tempt her away from her path. Kay is destined for greatness and I...I am destined for nothing.

Somewhere near the salt flats I finally stop to make camp. Reaching the side of a cliff I toss my pack under an outcropping and sink down beneath it's pitiable shelter, slumping forward with my arms resting on my knees. Absently I watch the rivulets of water fall from my hair and clothes and eventually the leaden weight of the past few days comes for me, arriving in the form of blessed sleep.

A grey haze surrounds me when I open my eyes and it is the taste and smell of damp that reminds me that it still rains. I poke my head out of the cave, wrinkling my nose at the scene. The Vane has never conjured something this persistent before and I wonder if the scientists have finally unlocked it's secrets. Not wishing to subject myself to more of nature's wrath I sit back, chewing absently on a meal of cured venison and staring out at the desert. A strange, low quake sounds in the distance and I frown, straining to listen. Streaks of lightning dance beyond the hills and after a while I dismiss my doubts and turn back to sleep. If I cannot place tracks at least I can use the time to regain some strength.

The rain has not let up when I awake for a second time. Cursing my luck I gather my meager belongings and head into the gale. The rumble of thunder accompanies me into the North where I run, aimless except for a need to be further away. Soft ground and a veil of rain suit my mood, pressing in on all sides and spoiling the sense of freedom I was meant to have won.

I spy movement up ahead and either consciously or unconsciously drift toward it, thinking that I have spotted a slow-moving river. The river breaks apart as I draw closer: a party of travellers is snaking it's way along the base of the foothills. Curious, I keep to high ground and track them for a spell, recognizing their garb as Babelonian. A certain soldier's lopsided gait captures my attention and my suspicions are confirmed when he stops to withdraw a flask from his coat, giving it a shake before tilting the drink down his throat.

I wait until the others have gone on ahead before sliding down the hill and coming to a soundless stop beside Geoff. He staggers back at my sudden appearance, his bloodshot eyes stretched wide.

"Cripes," Geoff pounds a fist against his chest as he chokes on a cough. "Where in the Burn did you come from?"

"Above." I reply. "Where are you going?"

"So much for pleasantries, eh?" The grizzled ex-Enforcer takes another drink. "Funnily enough, I didn't ask where it is we're headed. All's I know is that staying wasn't an option and I'm not keen to join another war."

"What do you mean?" I have to raise my voice to be heard over the rain. "Why could you not remain in Babel?"

He looks at me strangely, "Because it's gone."

The words land like powder kegs. My face must show confusion because Geoff lowers his flask. "Did you really not know about this?"

I shake my head slowly, "What happened?"

"The Runner happened." He huffs. "She got it into her head that the entire power grid had to be shut down and shut down immediately. Never properly said why—something to do with this weather—and pushed us out without so much of a pat on the head. The last I saw of Babel she was crumbling into dust."

"She...she destroyed it?"

"Well, Tawny might have had a little something to do with it but yes, it was your demon queen that pulled the switch." Bushy brows lower. "That's why I'm surprised to find you way out here. I figured you'd be following her army toward further glory."

I recover enough from my disbelief to register the bitterness that laces Geoff's words. True, the Madam's lair was a scourge on the desert but it was also home to a great many. Despite never being one for remaining in one place I can understand the loss that the displaced Babelonians must be experiencing.

"I am sorry." Is all I can think to tell him.

Geoff waves me off. "It ain't your fault, Stretch. At least with that tower and it's blasted labs out of the picture I know for certain that what happened to my Tabitha won't be happening anymore."

He is talking of the Brutes. Of course...with Babel's laboratories abolished the Brutes can no longer be created, kept alive or—as impossible as it seemed—cured. Does this mean that Kay has given up on saving the Commander? My mind races. Babel is gone and another war is brewing. I have to do something...find her. I have to help.

No.

I have traveled this path already. I know all-too-well how much it hurts to fall from her hand.

But that was before. That was when Babel stood firm and my wild, beautiful Kay became lost to it. If what Geoff says is true and Kay has destroyed the dome then perhaps...perhaps she has risen once more. I know that when I said my farewells in Babel I swore that it would be for the last time. I know that only a fool would go back into such a fire.

But I have always been a fool.

"I must go." I hear myself say, my spirit already halfway across the desert. "Do you know which direction the others were headed?"

"Direction's never been my strong suit." Geoff quips. "But if I were a betting man I'd say they're headed for whatever's cooking up this storm."

Peering up at the sky I squint to see through the rain. Lightning surrounds us but it does not take a Hunter's practiced eye to pinpoint where the clouds gather most earnestly.

The City.

"Thank you." I tell him, "For keeping me safe all that time in Babel. I hope that you find what you are looking for."

"Right back at you, Stretch."

Turning, I throw myself headfirst into the storm. Clumps of sand are kicked up behind me as I race, blood flowing hot as a fire through my veins. The wind blows fiercer the closer I draw to the City but I barely notice, my every sense concentrated on crossing the next hill or circumventing the next stream. I chew up the desert as if it existed solely for me to cross.

I detour up a hill and pause at it's peak, heart pounding as I stare into the valley below. The downpour and coursing adrenaline obscure the scene but gradually, the ruins swim into focus. I suck in a sharp breath; Geoff was telling the truth, after all.

A colossal hole exists where the dome once stood. Babel has been reduced to a skeleton; it's skyscrapers broken into lethal shards that protrude through cracks in the earth's surface.

She really did it.

Swallowing the lump that gathers in my throat I press on, praying that I am not too late as I work my way inland. Some miles outside the City lightning strikes and reveals the silhouettes of airships tethered near a mountain. I alter my course and redouble my speed, drawing up next to the ships alongside an endless parade of war-torn Miners. My eyes dart across the frightened faces of the evacuees, following their trail back toward the City. Someone shouts my name and I spin around, desperate for anything that could lend me another piece of this puzzle.

"Luca!" A figure breaks free of the crowd and races toward me. Kay's brother, Frye appears through a curtain of rain and I force myself to wait patiently while he shoves his soaked hair back and fights to recover his breath.

"Is she still in the City?" I ask as soon as he straightens.

"Yes." Frye swallows, freckles standing out starkly against pale skin. "There's fighting at the gate but I'm sure that my sister is going to try and get to the Palace. The Queen's being held there, along with a handful of others."

A chill runs through me. I am certain that the diabolical Madam is waiting and has something horrible in store for Kay. The need to keep moving is agonizing and I nod brusquely, making to run before Frye grabs my arm to hold me in place.

"She's going to do something stupid." He says, his voice hoarse. "I know my sister. When it comes to the Queen...when it comes to any of us..."

"I know." I tell him. "I will find her."

He releases me and I take off once more, now sprinting with a recklessness born of desperation and abject fear. The great, stone barrier that surrounds the City soon swims into view, the wooden gates foreboding with the wall's dependable torchlight extinguished. Darting around the trickle of escaping Miners I shove my way inside.

The narrow streets and ramshackle shelters of the former Commons are deserted, the fight having moved uphill. Scrambling up the side of the nearest building I take to the roofs. Torrents of water make it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead but I do not rely on my eyes; instinct and memory are all I need. Having found myself lagging behind at every turn I now run wildly, leaping from ledge to the ledge as I fly into the storm gathering around the glass tower.

The Palace is nearly within reach when I hear the savage cries of battle. Jumping across the final buildings, I perch on a ledge just outside the Palace gate and look into the mayhem below. I spot Jaron almost immediately: my eldest brother is where the combat is thickest, his trusty feathered spear glinting as the Brutes fall at his feet. Scanning the perimeter I can see more Brutes arriving, though not so many that I doubt the Wasters' victory. Averting my eyes I cross over to the top of the gate, muttering a quick prayer of protection.

Looping around to the back of the Palace I drop down into the courtyard, landing with a weapon clenched in each fist.

Casting my gaze around the yard I am met by nothing but empty cobblestone. Through the spatter of raindrops I hear an odd thumping and slink toward it's source, drawing up before a pair of heavy wooden doors. The doors quake violently but are held fast by the sodden rope tied across them. I can tell by the monotonous rhythm that the hammering fists belong to Brutes and turn away, pausing when I catch a glint of silver near a bend in the wall.

Crouching down, my heart stops before I can fully withdraw the object from the mud.

Kay's dagger.

It is then that the dread I have been outrunning finally catches up. I spin in place, searching the abandoned courtyard while a strange ringing fills my ears. Never in a thousand years would Kay willingly leave her father's weapon behind. Something terrible has happened, here.

Breaking into a sprint before panic can steal my courage I locate a flight of stairs and circle up floor by floor. Leaping over a fallen Brute I round a corner and reach a door hanging crookedly on broken hinges. I do not break stride, shoving it open and arriving on the Palace roof amongst the chaos of flashing light and driving rain.

A monstrosity of metal and silver pierces the sky at the roof's center. Placing my feet carefully I skirt the tower edges, straining to see through the downpour. Shadows gather in the gloom beneath the Vane and I creep closer, diving for cover when a deafening creak rings out. Someone releases a terrified shriek and I peer out from behind a piece of upturned furniture, spotting the queen amongst a small army of Brutes with her hands clasped over her mouth. Following her eyeline up the Vane I see that the silver tip is tilted at a perilous angle and caught in the gusts of wind.

Between bursts of electricity a pair of shadows grapple violently.

Gods almighty.

Kay and...could it be? Has the Madam in her sick vendetta unleashed the Commander? My heart sinks as I stare dumbstruck at the airborne battle, unable to comprehend the horror I am witnessing.

Do something.

I climb out from my hiding place, time seeming to slow while my arrows fly in the same instant that they are notched. I fire one shot after another, my aim relentless and my breath coming slow and steady. The Brutes fall away while I circle them and count down.

Five. Four. Three. Two.

The final arrow is for her. The Madam turns to flee but I take my time, sighting along the shaft's length and anticipating her movements. My shot lands true and I toss my bow aside, turning to face the remaining Brutes. They descend en masse and I spin and twist, flirting with the edges of darkness as I fall into my old ways. The scattered mess of equipment and loose bits of wire serve as handy tools for my work and when I am done Queen Megra stands alone, skirts splattered with inky blood and drenched by rain.

"You must leave." I tell her, my voice hoarse.

"Not without Kay."

The broken door to the staircase flies open before I can reply. Thrusting the queen behind me I whip a frayed length of electrical cord over my shoulder and prepare to confront another surge of Brutes. Instead, a hulking mass of beard and feathers materializes through the fog.

"Luca?" Jaron sputters. "How did you—" His dark eyes find the queen, relief causing my iron brother to bend. "Megra."

Another creak and an explosion shakes the roof, forcing us to cover our heads while sparks rain down. Brushing the shards from my hair I search the sky, briefly catching sight of one figure but not the other.

"You're too late." Someone croaks.

A creature huddles beneath the disintegrating Vane. The Madam smiles grotesquely, displaying rows of bloodstained teeth. My arrow's feathered shaft protrudes from her leg but she appears not to notice, gripping onto a piece of the Vane's machinery and heaving herself upright.

"There is no halting progress." She hisses. "And that's what I am," A glob of blood lands at her feet. "Progress."

Her mechanical hand yanks down on a switch, releasing another burst of sparks. The Wasters swarm her but I remain rooted in place, staring up the crippled Vane as it hums with a dangerous surge of electricity. A lone figure remains on the broken peak and as I watch it finally severs, pulling Kay down with it.

You're too late.

I call my brother's name, tossing Jaron the end of the cord and taking off for the roof's edge. Whatever he shouts back is lost to the rain as Kay rockets past and I dive after her.

Too late.

Icy wind pierces as I grip the end of the cord with one hand and reach for her with the other. Wrapping my arm around her waist I hold her tightly and together we spiral through the air, caught in a storm both beautiful and terrifying. The ground rushes up to greet us, mere inches away when the rope in my hand suddenly pulls taut. I release a strangled cry as pain laces my arm and shoulders, hugging Kay fiercely and trying not to notice how she has turned limp. We swing back into the sky and the rope begins to slip through my fingers, darkness spotting my vision. When we plunge back to earth I let go, shielding Kay's head and squeezing my eyes shut as we bump and scrape along the ground.

After what feels like an eternity the world finally falls silent. I do not move or open my eyes, my every muscle tensed as I wait to feel even the slightest breath.

"Luca," A heavy hand lands on my shoulder. I shake Jaron off, blinking myself to awareness and willing Kay's too-still features to focus.

"Just give her time." I hear myself whisper. I brush the tangled hair away from her eyes in a desperate bid to see the bright colour beneath. "She must do everything in her own time."

Someone releases a muffled sob. I ignore the crowd gathered around us, pressing my forehead to Kay's and murmuring countless oaths, promising the world if only she were to wake up, to open her eyes, to look at me one more time. Only a fool would keep whispering long after it was already too late.

But I have always been a fool.