The darkness is absolute, unending. I feel it closing in around me, it's cold embrace drawing me further and further away from the light. Fear paralyzes and chokes as I continue to plummet.

Please.

A familiar voice floats through the haze. I strain to grasp onto the sound but my pathetic attempts only awaken sharp stabs of pain.

Please.

I want to keep fighting...I do but exhaustion has seeped it's way into my very bones. I am so tired and the urge to leave these troubles behind is becoming too tempting to ignore.

Please, Kay.

The voice refuses to let me go. Defiance flares and I redouble my efforts, tracking him across the divide. The darkness morphs into sharpened hooks, their ends scraping and tearing and threatening to pull me back under. I move sluggishly but steadily against them, keeping my sights trained on the point of light beyond and the voice attached.

When a hand brushes against my cheek I instinctively reach up to grab it. The last of the fog clears as I blink myself to focus and find him.

"Luca," Blackness turns to blue and I feel his hold on me tighten. "Are you hurt?"

He emits a strange sound, something between a laugh and a sob, "No. Are you?"

"No."

His slow smile sends a flutter through my chest. I search his dark features, pushing his hair away from his eyes.

"You came back." I marvel.

"So did you."

I open my mouth to reply when the memory of how I came to be lying on the soaked ground comes flooding back.

"Meg," Shooting upright, I forget myself and double over as a thousand fires burn. "Where is she?" I gasp.

"I'm here." The Queen appears beside me and I could cry from relief. Wrapping her in a hug I murmur a slew of apologies: everything from putting her in danger to abandoning the City.

"It's alright, it's alright." She shushes me. "I'm sorry too."

My bruised skin prickles beneath a fine mist and dimly I realize that the storm has quieted and that weak rays of sunlight are creeping across the ruined courtyard.

"Did they get out?" I blurt, drawing back. "Marc, Gus and the others? Do you know where Frye is? Was anyone hurt in the storm?"

"Slow down." Meg cups my face in her cool hands. "They're fine. Everyone's fine. The rain is over."

The rain is over.

A great weight lifts from my shoulders as a wave of exhaustion causes the scene to blur. I shake my head to clear it, frowning when I recall a final detail.

"And what of the Madam?" I ask, looking from Meg to Luca before scanning the sea of faces surrounding us.

The crowd parts and a gargantuan shadow materializes. Jaron stoops before me, his feathered robe soaked and shining sharp as daggers. When he unfurls his fist it takes me a moment to recognize the object laid flat in his palm.

A mechanical hook.

"It is finished." The menacing Waster chieftain is bloodied and splattered with the remnants of war but the unmistakable spark of victory turns him radiant. "The Madam is no more."

Gingerly, I take up the sharpened hook and study it. Confusion and a lingering fog make it difficult to sort my thoughts but eventually the truth hammers it's way home.

She's gone.

I wait for the onslaught: relief, anger, resentment. Heartbeats pass and I unclench my first, watching with a vague sense of detachment as the hook slips from my grasp and buries itself in the mud.

"Come on." Luca whispers, giving me a gentle nudge.

I let him help me up, gritting my teeth when my bad knee spasms. Jaron and the warriors disperse as we begin our slow trek out of the courtyard. I am concentrating on the cobbled path before me when I am jerked to a stop. Luca has turned stone-still, his muscles taut and a weapon clenched in his fist as he stares back toward the Palace.

Following his gaze I register that someone is stumbling through the gate and the world comes to a sudden, grinding halt.

It can't be.

Steely grey eyes find mine before he collapses into the mud. I am unable to think, unable to breathe as the Brute looks up at me across the rain-soaked courtyard. A serious brow wrinkles in question and when he utters my name I fear that the madness has found me again.

"Kay?"

My legs threaten to give way as Will pushes himself back to standing and leans heavily against the Palace gate. I notice that the Mechanical gear has disappeared from his chest and we share a pained wince when his fingers graze the garish wound left behind.

"Kay?" The voice is hoarse but unmistakably his. "What's happened?"

A hand touches me lightly and I start, jerked free of my trance. Tearing myself away from the brink I tug Meg closer and whisper to her.

"Do you see him too?"

A long moment passes before I find the courage to look up. Meg brushes away a tear, nodding, "Yes, my sweet. I see him too."

Stunned, I swivel back around. Luca is slow to release me as I withdraw my arm from around his shoulder and take a cautious step forward.

"Will?" My own voice is drowned out by the rushing in my ears. Halting when we are still a few feet apart I sway on unsteady legs and tilt my head, heart pounding as I study him. "Do you...do you know me?"

I'm close enough, now that I can make out the slight dimple in his cheek. "I should hope so."

Run.

Rhyme and reason are cast aside as I tear toward him, uncaring for our injuries and leaping into his arms. Will stumbles but catches me, his solid frame trembling mightily as I clutch him tightly and choke on the glorious scent of sandalwood.

"Gods, I missed you." His breath is warm in my ear as I bury my head in his neck and breathe him in, neither understanding nor caring how this can be. He's back. By the gods of love and war my Will has returned and nothing else has ever mattered.

The clouds disperse and the sun beats down but I barely notice. For this moment the rest of the world ceases to exist. There is only this.

There is only us.

* * * * *

The brightness of morning pierces and I need to ease my eyes open carefully. A soft bed and silk sheets tempt me with more sleep and I groan as my scrapes and bruises awaken.

"Easy, there." A soothing voice greets me and I blink the room into focus. My heart races when I recognize the person waiting for me but as the light settles I am met by an altogether different Waster brother.

"Noah," I grunt my thanks as the medicine man helps me into a sitting position and arranges a pillow behind my back. My arms, legs and ribs are wrapped in sickly-smelling poultices and I grit my teeth painfully as Noah carefully unwraps the dressings.

"How are you feeling?" He asks.

"Incredible." I reply. "How long was I asleep?"

"The better part of two days." He withdraws a sopping rag and gently dabs my forearm. The medicine stings but I don't mind, my gaze slipping to the view out the infirmary window. The Palace gates have been thrown open and the rain-battered City structures shine in the brightness of day.

"I am not surprised that you slept so long." Noah continues conversationally, "We pieced together the Runner's journey from Babel to the City's Vane and everywhere in between. The stories they tell in the streets are fantastical so you must tell me what parts are true: did you really ride a tame lion through Babel as it fell?"

"What? No, of course not." I try to recall what he's referring to but the events of the past few days seem like nothing more than a strange dream. "Where's your brother?"

"Which one?" He feigns indifference, "My eldest is lingering around here, somewhere. Jaron has been trying to gain an audience with the Queen ever since we arrived."

"And Luca?"

"My youngest has accompanied your Brute into the desert."

For a moment I think that I have misheard him but Noah only nods, his lips pressed tightly together. "I know. Allow me to catch you up."

The thudding of my heart makes it difficult to hear so I listen closely, my amazement growing with each of the Waster's carefully-chosen words. After I was taken to the infirmary and the Miners returned home Meg and Jaron were left to contend with the unthinkable: a thinking, breathing Brute.

"There was also the small matter of another hundred or so less fortunates locked inside the Palace." Noah reminds me. "I admit that we were at a bit of a loss until Luca spoke of a secret encampment below the earth. I understand that the Madam was using it as her base up until she launched her assault on the City."

A crew was quickly assembled and an airship launched, their aim being to deposit cargo and recover as many of Babel's Technicians as possible. With Luca's guidance and Will's help the Madam's hidden base will have a new purpose: a hub for scientists to treat and cure Brutes,

Noah's expression remains carefully blank as he finishes his story and concentrates on my bandages.

"That ought to do it." He stacks the bowls of medicine neatly and dries his hands. "I can call for a bath unless you had another plan in mind. More sleep? Conquering the North?"

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. "I'll take the bath. The North can wait, this part is important, too."

"I could not agree more." Noah replies. "There is some food right here. Drink and eat slowly, get some rest and I will have someone come to collect you."

I thank him and grab a handful of fruit before reclining back against the soft cushions. Sleep has begun to knit it's way across my vision when the bed's curtains are drawn back.

"Alright, Miss?" The clipped tones of my former handmaiden are all the encouragement I need to untangle myself from the bedclothes. Sera holds out a dressing gown and leads me from the infirmary, walking slowly so that I can keep up. Limping on sore legs I glance around and note details of the Vane's aftermath. Tapestries hang crooked on stone walls and bits of broken furniture litter the corridors but already, the Miners are hard at work setting things right. I ignore the curious glances being thrown in my direction as I follow Sera down a sweeping set of stairs and into the bathhouse.

Sera indicates a steaming basin and I carefully lower myself into it's depths, breathing a contented sigh as the warm water works it's way across my various injuries.

The sound of lapping water echoes in the cavernous room. I open my eyes and admire the bright tiles decorating the pillars ahead of me, tracing their intricate patterns up to the vaulted ceiling. Rolling my head to the side I notice steam wafting from a second, identical tub waiting alongside my own.

"Are we expecting someone?" I ask.

"How am I to know?" Sera quips as she efficiently arranges soaps and bottles upon a low table. "As house manager I hardly have time to keep tabs on every creature running 'round this Palace."

"Fancy title." I scoop up a handful of bubbles and blow it at her, grinning as she brushes feverishly at her nose. "So what are you doing down here with me? Aiding a mongrel seems a chore well below your pay grade."

"I suppose that I didn't want to subject any of my staff to your abuse." She tosses a sponge at my head.

A pair of handmaidens appear with pitchers of water and a basket of linens. As Sera turns away I sink beneath the water, the feeling of weightlessness remaining with me when I re-emerge. Shoving my soaked hair back from my face I feel eyes upon me and catch the maidens whispering to one another.

A stern word from Sera and the girls scurry away. My scars and cheeks burn as I concentrate on the ribbons of colour forming in the bath while Sera empties various concoctions into my hair and combs it free from knots. After a time our silence is broken by a heavy door swinging open and the soft tread of regal footsteps.

Sera bobs a brisk curtsy, granting me an encouraging little smile while Meg disrobes and climbs into the tub set beside mine. One remarkable woman is traded for another as Meg settles in and Sera dips expertly from view.

The rafters chime with the sounds of dripping water and it is Meg who first breaches the surface.

"Fancy meeting you here."

I snort and suds fly into the air. We trade grins and I draw my knees up to my chest while Meg carefully tucks her glossy braids up beneath her headwrap.

"That was quite the nap." She chides me lightly. "I trust you are feeling well?"

"I'm good." I tell her. "Getting better."

"I'm glad to hear it. You look wonderful."

I glance down at my bruised body and back up, catching the moment when teasing gives way to concern and Meg's expression turns pitying.

"What about you?" I ask.

"Me?" She ceases fussing with her hair. "I'm fine. I didn't fall out of any rainclouds."

"No, I mean...before all that." I watch her carefully, "What Jaron and I did...it must have hurt terribly."

The queen stiffens, her expression unreadable.

The words spill from my mouth before I can think to stop them, "You have to know that our alliance wasn't his idea Meg, it was mine. The only way I could get Jaron to join my war was by telling him that we'd be protecting you. He had good cause for a fight but I... I only cared about revenge and so I went ahead and took what I wanted without a thought for you or anyone else. I became obsessed and ugly and I couldn't...I didn't stop to pull myself out of it. The things I did...when I think back on it all, now..." Drawing a rattling breath, "I'm so ashamed."

Throughout my confession Meg remains as still and silent as a statue. Her long fingers curl around the tub's gilded lip and I suppress a shudder, wrapping my arms around my knees and hugging them to me.

"You were right." My voice sounds hollow to my ears, "I used the stories and the acclaim against everyone, let myself get lifted too high to see my own way." Shaking my head, "How do you do it? The world could turn to cinders and you wouldn't break a sweat. How do you manage to keep rising above it all?"

"I'm glad that I appear that way, because it couldn't be further from the truth." Meg sighs and sits back. "Sometimes I feel as though I am barely holding this kingdom together. Every day I make a thousand decisions and then at night I lie awake doubting myself and dreading the next day, knowing that I have to get up and do it all over again."

"Your people love you."

"Yes, well my predecessor didn't set the bar especially high."

"I don't think that's it at all." I tell her fiercely, "Anyone can see how much you care about this City. You've done incredible things for us."

"Perhaps." Meg stares off into the distance, "Or perhaps I only had the freedom to build schools and create work programs because the Runner was off in the desert, keeping the danger at bay. When the airships appeared and the Brutes swarmed the City all I could think was, 'Kay was right'."

I scratch absently at the tattoo on my forearm while an old anger shudders through me. Memories of the Madam targeting Meg and Will as a way to hurt me will remain for a long time, still.

"For what it's worth," Meg continues slowly, "I don't think that you have anything to be ashamed of."

I open my mouth to argue, snapping it shut when Meg clears her throat politely yet pointedly.

"I've heard the stories," She says, "And granted, how you feature varies pretty dramatically depending on who's doing the telling but they all seem to have one thing in common. The Runner fights for freedom; it's what she's always done. You take the leaps that everyone else is too afraid to make and put yourself in danger so that the rest of us can live. I honestly don't know whether your acts are the work of a hero, a martyr or a villain," She waits until I drag my eyes up to meet hers. "All I'm certain of is that I missed my friend."

"I missed you, too."

We lapse into a comfortable silence and I slowly begin to unfold myself, nodding my thanks to the silent handmaiden who comes in to refill our tubs with hot water. A thick curtain of steam rises between us as Meg raises a disembodied question.

"So, what will you do now?"

"I don't know." I reply. "I need to help rebuild some kind of home for the Babelonians and spend some time with my brother. Oh, and Will, of course."

"Of course." Meg shakes her head disbelievingly. "It all seems so surreal."

"I know. I'm still not entirely convinced that you're not all figments of my imagination."

"Would you like me to pinch you?"

"Maybe later." Murky water begins to spiral as guilt settles it's hand.

"What is it?" Meg speaks up before I lose my way.

"Nothing." I say quickly. "It's just...I never could have imagined that Frye survived his time in the Wastelands. Finding him again felt like a once-in-a-lifetime chance. A total anomaly."

"And?"

"And...shouldn't that be enough? Now Will is back, too. How can it be that two people I loved who were gone forever are suddenly alive? It feels...wrong, somehow. No, not wrong. Strange or maybe..." I fumble with my words, unsure of what I'm trying to say. "Maybe just unbalanced. It doesn't seem right that something so incredible...so impossible could happen to me not once, but twice." I clamp my mouth shut tight before it can run further away.

Meg is silent, waiting to be certain that I'm done before prodding gently. "Do you want to know what I think?"

I answer with the barest shrug of my shoulders.

"I think that we put too much importance on finding the reasons for why things turn out the way they do. Oh, I'm certain that there are some people who would swear that an omnipotent god or goddess has gifted you a pair of miracles as a reward for all the good that you've done. I could argue that it's equally likely our temples are testaments to nothing and that your good fortune is just dumb luck." She waves a hand vaguely, "Maybe you deserve this, maybe you don't. Maybe there is such a thing as karma or fate or maybe there is nothing beyond what we're seeing right here, right now. No matter what, it's impossible for us to know for certain whether something is forever or only a short while."

Meg says all this casually, her words older than her years. Glancing over I catch a glimpse of the poised, courageous woman who wiled away countless hours with me, our heads bent together conspiratorially beneath mountains of books. She catches me watching her and raises one perfectly arched eyebrow, the hint of a rebellious smile tugging at her lips.

"So maybe we should forget about the reasons and just enjoy what we have, while we still have it."

I blink and the world falls back into place. As the day turns long and our baths turn cold, two friends share in one another's company. We swap stories and laugh while the distant sounds of construction punctuate our conversation and serve as a reminder that even broken walls can be rebuilt.