It is a few days later that we begin to notice the change in weather.

A humid breeze skips across rooftops and through alleyways, catching the leaves of the palm trees and sending shopkeepers scurrying to bring their wares indoors. I hang onto the bough of a tree, waiting until the wind settles before swinging over to the next branch and hurrying to fill my bag. Vegetation lines the newly-carved streets, sprouting between the rocky groundworks that will eventually become rows of homes. Sounds of construction explode around me as I reach for another cluster of dates, my hand stopping in midair when an odd shape appears from behind a cloud.

An airship.

A muted whoop escapes me and I scramble to the ground, discarding my bag and taking off uphill. Loose sand turns into cobbled path as I soar beneath the front gate and cut a crooked path up toward the hangar.

The ship is already docked when I arrive. I dart through the busy station, scanning the platform for familiar faces. Scores of people pour down the gangplanks, each of them wearing identical looks of bewilderment as they take in the fleet of hovering ships and the sky-high rafters.

"Kay!" Will materializes through the crowd and scoops me up. His scruffy hair has grown out and the scent of desert that clings to him fills me with a painful sense of longing. Before I can collect my thoughts my feet land back upon the ground and I'm spun sharply around as Will points me back toward the ship.

"Recognize them?" His breath warms my neck.

I fight to concentrate on the scene and not him, squinting at the disembarking travellers. Their halting strides and wide-eyed stares eventually give them away and I gasp, my hands flying to my mouth as I recognize the murderous horde I locked inside the Great Hall. Someone near us unleashes a shriek and I jump, stumbling into Will as a young girl shoves her way past us and runs toward the ship. The wan face of one of the new arrivals lights up when he spots her and they embrace, laughing and exclaiming over one another. I watch in stunned silence as more and more people find one another, their shouts of joy ringing from every corner of the expansive station.

"My gods..." I choke on the swell gathering in my throat. "You did it."

"We did it." Will corrects me fiercely.

The station platform turns into utter pandemonium as the ex-Brutes continue to spill out of the airship and are found by friends and long-lost family. I scan the sea of faces once more, searching fruitlessly for a dark mop of curls while Will's large hand wraps around my own.

"Come on," He has to shout to be heard. "I have a lot to tell you."

I allow myself to be tugged from the hangar and into the gusting outdoors, my head and chest still abuzz with the fever of wild reunion. Once on the street Will freezes, a strange, lost look coming over his handsome face. I take the lead, flagging down a carriage and telling the driver our destination. Will shoots me a grateful look as he settles into the bench across from me and we rumble down the street.

Will dives into talk of how the Brutes were cured, speaking quickly—almost nervously—and sparing no detail about what Babel's recovered Technicians were able to accomplish. I don't mind in the least and listen raptly, eyes stretched wide as he relates how his own injuries and subsequent recovery were studied and applied using the bunker's ready stock of scientific equipment.

"A few sessions of carefully-applied electric shocks and the Techs were able to whittle down the equipment they installed in us." A slight edge to his voice betrays the disdain that he still feels for Babel's scientists. "We expel the suppressing chemical she kept us fed full of and our organs begin working on their own, again. The recovery period was...not pretty. Lucky that the facilities in the bunker were top-notch."

"And you were able to bring them all back?" I ask breathlessly.

"Every last one. Each soul that you locked inside the Hall were returned to their family today. You saved lives, I hope you realize that."

I shift uncomfortably on the carriage's hard wooden bench, looking away as I stifle the whisper that reminds me that a handful of saved is nothing compared to the thousands we slaughtered.

"Oh, before I forget," Will grabs his rucksack and begins to dig through it, withdrawing a parcel wrapped in a swath of leather. I recognize the weight as soon as it's handed over and unwrap it with shaking fingers, my vision blurring when the leather is pushed aside and the silver point of my father's dagger pokes through.

"I thought it was gone." I take up the treasure and turn it over, running my fingers along the clean and newly-sharpened blade.

"Some things have a hard time staying lost."

I look up to find a half-grin tilted at me. "Where did you find this?"

"I didn't. Luca did. He said he found it outside the Great Hall but forgot about it until we had already left for the Wastelands."

I stare at him, disbelieving. "But then...why do you have it? Why wouldn't Luca give it back to me, himself?"

"Couldn't say." Will shrugs. "I expected Luca to stick around long enough to deliver your dagger and the rehabilitated Brutes back to the City but he disappeared almost as soon as we finished scouring the desert for any and all of the lost Technicians. Peculiar fellow, but I've never met anyone with such remarkable tracking skills."

"Yes, he's quite remarkable." I say distantly, still reeling from the twofold blow of holding my father's dagger and discovering that Luca is finally gone for good.

"Not only did your Waster manage to locate the Madam's bunker-lab in the middle of barren desert but he also headed up the search effort and brought back more Technicians than we knew what to do with." Zipping his rucksack closed resolutely, Will places it back on the seat beside him. "Extraordinary. Anyway, the night that he left he brought me your dagger and asked me to return it. Didn't say where he was headed, were you expecting him back?"

"Yes. No. I mean..." I concentrate on carefully sliding my weapon back into it's place beside my ankle. "I guess I thought he'd at least say goodbye."

We pass the rest of the journey in silence, the odd droplet of water spilling in through the open windows. I study Will in the greying light, watching his growing amazement as he holds his hand out to catch the rain. He spots me looking at him and grins, the roguish gesture sending heat through to my core. As our carriage crosses beneath the wooden archway that divides the former Court from the Palace grounds I think back on the various disguises we have worn while travelling this very path. Vaguely, I wonder if he might still be wearing one. In all likelihood the stories about what transpired since Will was made into a Brute have reached his ears; rumours travel quickly, even in the Wastelands.

The carriage draws to a stop and Will steps out first, offering a hand to help me down and keeping his fingers laced with mine. We stride through the Palace's doorway and down the gilded corridor, stopping briefly in the kitchen to fill a couple of plates before tucking ourselves away in the corner of the Great Hall. The air prickles with electricity even though our only light source comes from the newly-repaired chandeliers and out of habit I look for the exits, smirking a little at seeing a heavy wooden door still off it's hinges.

Will takes up his fork and rolls his shoulder, grimacing. I watch him and try not to wince at imagining what must be left behind after his brutish metal implements were removed.

"Does it hurt?" I ask.

He pushes the food around on his plate, mulling over my question. "I think that it's going to be a while before I'm back in fighting form."

"You'll get there. Just give it time."

"I intend to. Speaking of, how's the leg?"

"Leg's fine. It's this," I knock my knuckles against my temple, "That I'm working on getting right."

Dark brows furrow, betraying the innate seriousness never far from his surface. "And how long does it take for those types of wounds to mend?"

"I'll let you know."

We trade rueful grins and tuck into our meals. For a time the only sound between us is the scraping of utensils against porcelain while I steal continual glances up at Will, noticing the slight shake in his movements and the jagged scars left by old apparatus' peeking out from beneath the collar of his shirt. My stomach churns and my appetite vanishes.

"Our Queen was gracious enough to offer me my old job back, should I want it." Will remarks conversationally, leaning back in his seat and picking up his drink.

I dab my lips and drape my napkin over my plate to hide the uneaten food. "I suspect that's more to her benefit than yours, quite honestly. The City was never safer than when William Cain was at the head of it's guard."

"You both give me too much credit." Will takes a drink but not before I catch a glimpse of a pleased smile. "In any case, I told her that I'd be content to train with the other soldiers for now. The troops don't want some out-of-practice veteran ordering them about, anyway."

"That's never stopped you before."

He laughs, "Truth be told, I'm looking forward to a bit of routine. All I could think of every day in that bunker was getting back to the City. To you."

So much time spent apart and two small words still have the power to stop my heart. Sorting through the remaining thousand or so questions knocking about in my head I ask, "Do you remember any of it?"

"Only bits and pieces." His gaze turns distant as he looks at something over my shoulder. "Feeling cold. Lost. Angry. Nothing is really clear. I remember standing on top of the tower and talking to you and waking up beneath the Vane. Everything in between is an endless, infuriating dream."

I rub my wrist where he gripped it before dropping me from the airship. "Maybe it's for the best that it's forgotten."

"Yes. Maybe."

"There are some things that happened during that time that I wish I could forget." I speak to the hard surface of the table before gathering the courage to look up at the expression on Will's face.

He is regarding me with a careful, measured gaze honed through years of sitting through dinner parties and smoking rooms, thinking one thing but saying another. "I may have caught wind of a rumour or two."

"I was afraid of that."

"Of course, any good spy knows not to take second-hand information." He continues, his joke falling flat. "So, I think it's best if I hear everything from you, directly."

I frown, not realizing that my entire body has tensed until I begin to ache. Our collective silence hangs heavy while I search for a place to begin.

Slowly, haltingly I tell my story, placing the truth plainly between us. Stumbling through the weeds of my misdeeds I grow taller when I come to my triumphs. My shoulders roll back and some of the fire returns to my veins as I put my actions into my own words. After years of listening to my actions being told by strangers I now claim them for myself, omitting only the parts where Will features too prominently in order to protect him from knowing the full extent of how he was used by the Madam.

And I leave out the parts about Luca. Those are for me.

When I finish Will's forehead is wrinkled, his brows drawn together in deep thought. I fight the urge to fidget, lifting my chin just enough to invite any questions.

After what feels like an eternity he sits back, his head shaking slowly back and forth.

"I couldn't let her win." I state simply. "I'm sorry that people got hurt but I'm not sorry that I went as far as I did. I couldn't live with myself, knowing that you were trapped as that...that...monster." My hands ball into fists atop the table. "And if I couldn't save you then I at least had to make sure that I wasn't leaving other people to the same fate."

"I know."

A sudden rush of anger causes my words to spill fast and hot. "What was I supposed to do? Stay here in the City, build some greenhouses and wait for her to attack? Run off into the desert and pretend that none of it mattered?"

"Of course not—"

"Yes, I did some terrible things... some really terrible things but if I hadn't done them...if I hadn't made the choices I did..." I swallow the lump in my throat, shaking as it dawns on me that my speech could easily fit in the mouth of a one-handed slave driver.

A warm hand comes down on top of mine and I pull myself out of the dark, arriving back before him.

"I know." Will says softly. "You're a born world-shaker, Red. I always knew you had the makings of a hero and now, history will know it, too."

"It wasn't heroics. When I lost you up on that balcony...Will, I..." the words become lost as the old wound reopens. I count three beats and then try again, "I broke. The only reason I was able to do those things was because I was blind with hurt and wanted revenge for what happened to you. I didn't care about the consequences."

Will pulls his hand away and runs it across the back of his neck. I recognize the gesture and feel a spark of warning.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Nothing, it's nothing."

"Only?"

"Only..." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I can't help but notice that I'm the reason that you got hurt. Again."

I freeze. "No, Will—"

"I know...I know," He waves off my protest. "It's just difficult to deny a pattern."

"By that same logic you should be blaming me for what happened to you." I point out. "Since I'm the reason you were up on that balcony in the first place."

His broad shoulders bunch and I bite down hard on my lip, sensing an incoming fight. Ignoring the impulse to rush into battle I instead look out past him, catching sight of the table where I once shared a plot with a Waster chieftain. Without warning the stir of adventure arrives, humming it's low tune.

"It's never been easy for us, has it?" I finish scanning the room and come back to consider the man in front of me. "There was always one thing or another standing in our way. Whether it be a rebellion or a war or—"

"Each other?" Will subtly raises an eyebrow.

"That wouldn't be the case if you could stop being so godsdamn stubborn." I say, acutely aware of how close he's sitting before coming back to the present. "And now this."

"And now this." Will echoes. "This mere black spot in my memory where you were off toppling the old empires and raising new ones."

Instinctively I lean forward, reaching out to stroke the worried lines from his forehead. My fingers travel down his rugged features and I marvel at his realness. Gently Will removes my hand from his face and plants a soft kiss on my palm. The Hall has emptied and now we are alone, a table and a chasm filling the space between us.

"I missed such a huge part of you becoming the person you were meant to be," Will's voice is a low rumble, "But I'm glad that your story is out there. Too much of life isn't fair or simple but the Runner reminds us that we can always fight for what's right."

"You taught me that."

"Did I? That was clever of me." He tilts his head. "You've come a long way from that scrawny street rat I chased through an alleyway."

I smile sadly, remembering the lengths I was willing to go in order to give us this precise moment.

Only it doesn't feel the way I thought it would.

There's love. A great, unyielding admiration for a person who has always led with his head. A person who bears pain and injustice with an iron will, who can see his way through a storm even when the clouds are at their thickest. When I look into the steely eyes in front of me I find the person who held me together when I felt as though I could break.

There's history. A deeply rooted connection that runs all the way back to the City's narrow streets and a cramped flat full of lessons. There's treason whispered around Palace corridors and in between bedsheets.

But Will's right. I'm not the girl in the alleyway, anymore.

And he isn't the boy in the library, either. New pages have been turned but our old problems are still there, raw and ready to drag us once more beneath the surface. I'll never be able to stay and he'll never be able to go.

The terrifying realization strikes like a knife and I keel over, clutching my hand to my chest as if I could ease the ache beneath.

"What is it?" Will's voice holds an unbearable gentleness and I squeeze my eyes shut tight, willing us back to a place as simple as waking up from a bad dream. "Kay? Tell me."

I count to three, easing my eyes open and finding him.

"For so long I thought that this was all I wanted." I tell him softly.

Will watches me intently, missing nothing. Memories continue to flood me and when his thumb runs across my knuckles I recall stepping down from a carriage, the feeling of Will's hand in mine the only thing keeping my legs from giving way.

"But now you want more." He finishes.

I stare at him, managing only a single, wordless nod. Will tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, searching my face as if committing me to memory. Finally, the barest hint of that damnable half-smile creases his cheek.

"It's just as well." The crack in his voice is my undoing. "I never had a hope of keeping your feet upon the ground, did I?"

"I tried." I force every ounce of meaning into my words. "I would have done anything for you."

"You did. You conquered the world for me."

"I'd conquer a thousand."

Will extends his arm and I fall into him, catching a glimpse of red-rimmed eyes before burying my face in his shoulder. We hold one another tightly and when he speaks his voice is muffled by my hair.

"I know."

* * * * *

I am several floors up, looking out of one of the library's broken windows when Meg finds me.

"It appears as though we'll get a true storm tonight." She remarks, crossing her arms and peering out at the blue-grey sky. "What do you think? Is the rain back for good or is this just some temporary after-effect brought on by the Vane?"

I shrug, "She did claim that her invention was going to change the weather permanently." I still refuse to speak the Madam's name out loud, not wanting to give her memory the satisfaction. "And I suppose that stranger things have happened."

"Indeed, they have."

I glance down and catch Meg toying with a feather, it's markings recognizable from my stint as a Waster chieftain. The dull pain I've been nursing since parting ways with Will eases just a little at seeing the secret smile that plays on my friend's lips.

"So, any particular reason why you're here and not out celebrating the Brutes' homecoming with a handsome doctor?" Meg asks.

I finger the folds of the curtain next to me. "Turns out that a year of my warmongering was a bit much for us."

"I see." Meg says slowly. She tucks the feather behind her ear and leans back against the window frame. "Are you all right?"

"I don't know." Dropping the curtain I return to the view outside, "What happens to people like me, Meg?"

"People like you?"

"The kind who can't be satisfied by anything. Not overthrowing a tyrant or coming home or getting the chance to start over without some threat hanging over us." Wrapping my arms around myself, "I had the godsforsaken love of my life back and I let him go. If being with Will isn't enough then what else is there? What's wrong with me?"

Everything the Runner touches is doomed.

Meg is quiet for a long time, the two of us staring out at the still-mending City as the rain finally begins to pour down in earnest. White stone turns dark while the empty streets and roofs serve as drums for the water to beat upon.

"I think that we might be forgetting a minor detail to your story." She says.

I groan. "Please don't. I've heard enough of the Runner to satisfy a thousand lifetimes."

"I didn't say anything about the Runner. I'm talking about you, Kay Knight."

Meg waits until I've reluctantly dragged my gaze back to hers before continuing, keeping her tone precise and deliberate as if to be sure that I'm not missing anything.

"It isn't over yet." She tells me. "You might feel tired and worn down from everything that's happened but that doesn't mean that you're facing an ending. There's a great, big world out there, a world that you helped to create."

The intrepid hum that began back in the Hall re-emerges, joining the wind that teases my hair and the drops of water that mist my skin. I shut my eyes to the sensation, breathing deeply and filling my lungs with the wildness of the Wastelands.

"There will always be a place for you here." Meg's voice drifts through the storm. "But maybe it's time that the Runner was set aside and you give Kay an adventure of her own."

I find her once more, my limbs and head already buzzing with intoxicating flight. "What about you?"

"Me?" Meg smiles, radiant with regal fortitude. "I have my work cut out. I'm going to construct a kingdom where everyone is welcome, where every person has the right to feel safe, to live and to learn and be anything they want. Don't give a second's thought about me, dear friend. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."

In the space of a second I am hugging her fiercely. The heavy curtains dance and twirl around us while the rain whips in through the windows and soaks us through to our bones. Refusing to say goodbye I hold her tightly and instead whisper in her ear.

"Thank you."

Gripping the curtain I leap, throwing myself into the shimmering beyond. Wind and rain pummel me as I fly breathlessly over the glistening cobblestone and swing back toward the glass walls of the Palace, slamming into it with both feet and sliding down the length of my makeshift rope. I release my hold and jump, sights set on the stables and tucking into a roll when I hit the roof.

The madness that fills me when I spring upright is as intoxicating as the taste of rain on my lips. I take off for the Palace gate and propel myself to the rooftops, my knee holding strong as my heart carries me effortlessly over the streets and alleyways. I run faster and faster, shedding the guilt and worries that once held me back. A profound sense of freedom is the only companion I need as I tear toward the City limits.

My old home passes beneath me, fading away with each step, each leap, each landing. I don't know what awaits me over the Wall but never have I felt such an intense desire to find out.

The time of the Runner is over.

Now, it's my turn.

THE END