The City fades to a distant speck as I jog across the sandy plains. The weight sitting against my shoulders grows lighter and my heart becomes fuller with each footfall, the space between myself and the Wall filling with my hopes of locating both the Madam and Will.

Luca is waiting for me beneath the relative shade of a long-dead tree. He reclines casually against the trunk, his back to me although I know he is keenly aware of my approach. I slump down onto the sand alongside him, catching my breath.

"Have you been waiting long?" I ask.

"Yes, but only because I am so much faster than you." He replies.

I snort, shrugging off my weapons and leaning back against the tree. "Your arm looks better."

"Fully healed." Luca extends his right arm, turning it so that I can see. The beautiful blue tattoos decorating his dark skin are marred only slightly by the burns he received during the explosion. Without thinking I run a finger over the markings, tracing the intricate pattern. I look up and catch him watching me, his strange dark eyes startling.

I pull my hand away quickly. "I'm glad you're still in one piece."

"I am flattered that you care." He teases.

Jumping to my feet, I grab my sword and bow and busying myself re-attaching them to my belt."We should get going." I say, lifting my chin and indicating the horizon. "Your brother doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"As you wish." Luca climbs gracefully to his feet.

I halt in my preparations, biting my lip as I work up some courage. "There's something I wonder about you."

"Ask it."

"Why are you here?" I shake my head, trying again. "What I mean is, Jaron has an insatiable thirst for battle, and you know my reasons for hunting the Madam, but I'm not entirely sure of yours."

"You do not know why I stay?" Luca repeats my question slowly, as if asking it back to me.

"You told me when we first met that you wanted nothing but to walk free, to have no obligations to anyone. I thought that after we rescued Noah I would be seeing the last of you." I say clumsily. "So, why are you still here?"

Luca remains very still, unmoving except for where the wind teases his hair and clothes. After a time, a slow smile pulls at his mouth.

"What I told you is that I wanted freedom. Tell me, Kay," He spreads his arms wide, indicating the endless desert surrounding us. "What could be more free than this?"

I laugh, momentarily releasing the strains of my City life and my fears about Will.

"Fair point." I grin. "I suppose... I just need to know that you're staying for yourself and not for—"

"For you?" Luca interrupts, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't say that."

"Tell me this, then. Do you want me to stay?"

"I want you to follow your own will, not mine or anyone else's."

He smirks. "And if I told you that I am precisely where I want to be, would you then admit that you want me here?"

"You really need me to say it, don't you?" I fold my arms across my chest.

"Oh, I do not think that I am the only one who needs something."

"Fine." I mock-sigh. "Luca, I am so glad that you're here."

"And grateful."

"Yes, and grateful."

"And awed."

"I think I'll stop there."

"And perhaps a bit intimidated."

"All right." I hike my gear up over my shoulders. "I'm leaving. Come if you like."

"You forgot to mention my good looks. You are appreciative of them as well, no doubt."

"I'm sure you'll have no trouble catching up." I call over my shoulder as I head off in the direction of Babel. A moment later Luca sprints past me, spinning around and pretending to yawn as he runs backwards. I stare at something over his shoulder and open my eyes wide, then trip him when he turns to look.

He shouts after me and I increase my speed, laughing as we race after one another, each daring the other to run faster, to push harder, to steal the distant horizon for ourselves.

* * * * *

Jaron's encampment sends plumes of smoke spiralling into the pink dusk. Luca's pace slows noticeably as we draw closer, his footsteps turning all but silent while we are still within several yards of the campfire.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Nothing," He replies quickly. "Only... my brother gets himself into a certain state of mind leading up to a fight."

"Should I be worried?"

"You? No. Jaron's mood can only suit your purposes."

"But you're worried." I point out.

Luca releases a soft sigh. "You know that my connection with my brother is complicated."

"Aren't all relationships."

"He is going to want my focus to match his. When it comes to Jaron there is no room for mistakes."

"Don't let him push you around." I tell him. "You're not his Hunter anymore, you're your own person."

"We will see." Luca glances towards the camp. "The Queen was a calming force on my brother. Without her influence I wonder what will be unleashed."

My jaw clenches. "It was Jaron's choice to break with Meg."

"I did not say otherwise."

"Come on, then. Let's see what he has in store." I cock my head and we walk the remaining distance together.

We find Jaron pacing before the fire, growling instructions in low tones to his gathered Wasters. A dozen assorted men and women make up his company, all of them clad in weather-worn garb suited for stealthy travel. I spy their various weapons resting beneath a tattered piece of canvas off to the side, protected from the elements and lying ready.

Jaron looks up at our approach and waves us over impatiently.

"I expected you days ago." He says.

"Raising an army takes time." I respond lightly.

"You were able to gather support?"

"As promised." I stride past him, adding my weapons to the pile and warming my hands by the fire.

Jaron follows close behind. "How many?"

"I don't have an exact number." I bluff. "But word is spreading and I'm confident that by the time we're ready to march, people will come en masse."

I stare at my outstretched hands, concentrating on the heat of the flames and not the mocking whispers in my head.

You're a liar and a fraud.

When the day of war arrives, the battlefield will stand empty and everyone will know the truth.

The Runner means nothing.

Straightening my shoulders, I raise my chin and attempt to meet Jaron's eyeline. "Have you any other questions, or may Luca and I have something to eat, now?"

Jaron makes a non-commital grunt of consent and I accept the watery bowl of stew when someone hands it to me. We eat our supper slowly, savoring the paltry nourishment. No stranger to a hungry belly, I have learned to appreciate any meal I am given, no matter how small.

"I estimate that we are three days journey from Babel." Jaron remarks as we scrape our bowls clean and someone tosses another log on the fire.

"Closer to four." Luca corrects him. "We should approach from the East to better disguise our tracks."

Jaron's eyes snap to Luca, hovering there for a long time. Eventually, he nods. "Four days it is."

"Have you caught sight of any Mechs, yet?" I ask Jaron.

"None, not even an airship." Jaron shakes his head. "This close to Babel, I question the peace."

My skin prickles with goosebumps. The only thing more unnerving than our ever-depleting proximity to the Madam is her lack of resistance. She's planning something, I'm certain of it.

"We will keep a wary eye out." Jaron continues. "Gods willing we will reach Babel without causing a disturbance."

"And what then?" I ask.

"We will observe its activities and when the time is right, call upon our warriors." Jaron breaks apart the food in his hand, effortlessly snapping the birds' bones.

"I don't expect this journey to progress quite so smoothly." I say.

"We plan for the best but prepare for the worst." Jaron confirms, exchanging a knowing look with me. "Which reminds me. Luca," He turns to his brother, his tone stern. "There can be no more wandering, no more sporadic hunts. Your attention needs to remain entirely on this fight."

"I had no intentions of wandering." Luca says tightly.

"I do not wish to hear arguments. Your blade is one of our deadliest, I will need you at my disposal at all times."

"I am not a weapon." Luca snaps. "I am your brother."

"Precisely. As brothers we must present a unified front. The warriors will need to respect you as they respect their chief."

"You needn't worry about that." I cut in. "Luca has proven himself time and time again. You will be hard-pressed to find a fighter who doesn't hold your brother in the highest regard."

Jaron's dark gaze slides to me, hovering there for a moment before returning to his supper. Luca grants me a small, grateful smile as we lapse into a stoic silence, each adrift in our own mental preparations.

The next two days pass in a fevered blur. My eyes ache from constantly scanning the horizon and my skin tingles from the long stretches spent below the blazing sun. My feet drag in the sand, unused to travelling at such a slow pace. The scorching afternoon light causes my view of our small group to waver and I blink in order to focus my vision, reaching for the flask of water at my hip.

Running my wrist across my chin I pause in my trudging, squinting into the horizon. A dark, dappled shadow flits between the dunes. I strain to make sense of what I'm seeing, uncertain of whether or not the elements are playing tricks on me.

The shadow moves again. Larger, this time.

"Luca." I say.

He materializes beside me instantly. "Do you see something?"

"Maybe." I lift my chin. "Back there."

Together, we stare into the distance, waiting.

A flicker of movement, disappearing and then reappearing. Definitely larger, now. Definitely coming closer.

"What is that?" I whisper.

Luca doesn't reply, his arm slowly moving to the quiver at his back.

"Jaron." I call out. "Stop. Something's out there."

The group draws to an abrupt halt, the Wasters turning in unison to face the direction Luca and I indicate. The dark shape moves unnaturally, lumbering and lurching, picking up speed by the second.

"Weapons!" Jaron bellows.

There is a hum of wood and steel being unleashed while the Wasters prepare for battle. I draw my own bow taut, glancing about as each person readies themselves, twisting their heavy staffs or swinging their blade. Jaron's huge shoulders draw up, the feathers decorating his coat vibrating with menace.

The ground below our feet shudders, throwing me momentarily off-balance. I grit my teeth and re-focus my efforts. The figure looms impossibly huge, made even larger by the fur coating it from head to toe. The point of my arrow wavers as I catch flashes of razor teeth and claws. A deafening roar rips from its throat, the sound reverberating across the desert, tearing its way into my bones and rattling my resolve.

Luca fires the first shot. His arrow whistles over the sand, its deadly point targeting the creature's heart. Another piercing roar sounds as the beast lifts itself up onto its hind legs and bats the arrow away.

"Merciful gods." Someone murmurs.

We release another slew of arrows, a few managing to find their mark. The creature only seems to grow faster in reaction, now even more terrifying due to the arrow shafts sticking out of its chest and shoulders.

Seconds later, it's upon us.

We are at once engulfed by oil-slick fur and piercing teeth. I duck and roll out of the way, narrowly avoiding a heavy strike from the beast's barb-laden paw. Our ears fill with roars of pain and rage as we surround the monster and deliver blow after blow, our blades alternating between shallow cuts and ricocheting off the impossibly tough hide. Black goo coats our clothes and drenches the sand, yet the beast never slows, not even when Jaron buries his sword deep into its ribs. It seems to be everywhere at once, eyes red as the Burn's flame while it gnashes and spins in place, tossing people aside as if they weighed nothing.

I clutch my dagger in one hand and my sword in the other. Unleashing a gutterul cry I throw myself forward, slashing the beast's neck. My sword scrapes bone and the creature rears, spittle flying free of its fang-filled mouth and stinging my face. I stab again, barely managing to dodge its snapping jaws. The beast lands hard and immediately swipes at me, catching me off guard and knocking me to the ground. I roll to the side, stabbing blindly and choking on damp, rancid breath. Silver teeth gnash above my head as enormous feet land again and again, connecting with my ribs and driving the air from my lungs.

Gasping for air, I lie sprawled on my back, for the first time noticing the silver straps encircling the animal's chest.

Straps converging into a single point.

A heavy, metal gear.

Another mighty roar tears from its throat as it makes its final lunge for me. I struggle fruitlessly to cover my head, feeling something rip into my shoulder before the beast is suddenly thrown aside.

I look up. Luca has somehow managed to launch himself atop the beast and is struggling to stay in place as he hacks and stabs. The two are locked in a fight to the death; blade and tooth glinting as Luca is tossed to the ground. The beast is immediately upon him, hackles raised into murderous razors while I spend the last of my breath screaming out his name.

A mighty bellow, then the beast goes still. I somehow manage to push myself to my feet, limping towards the pair and catching up with Jaron as he orders the uninjured Wasters to gather on one side of the monster and push it over.

"Hurry!" He shouts, throwing his shoulder against the matted fur and heaving with all his might. We push as one and the gigantic animal finally gives.

Luca lies with his back to us, coated head to toe in the sticky black tar. I fall to my knees beside him, helping Jaron roll him onto his back and patting his cheek desperately.

My heart ceases to beat. My breath ceases to draw. Everything becomes nothing while I repeat Luca's name over and over, his too-still features blurring as my vision swims.

"Luca." I wipe the goo from his eyes in a vain attempt to see the strange colour hidden behind. "Luca, please."

I am dimly aware of Jaron beside me, his hulking figure shuddering.

"Please." I plead again. "Please."

Beneath my palm there is a gentle thud, then another. A choked cough spews from Luca's mouth and his eyes flutter open. Their strange colour at first appears black, but as he turns to look at me they turn a deep, clear blue.

"I am flattered that you care." He says in a raspy voice.

"Gods' sake." I am unsure whether to laugh or cry, sitting back on my heels and fairly sagging with relief. Jaron launches himself on his younger brother, helping him sit up and pounding him on the back.

Luca spits out some black tar, running a hand across his mouth and grinning.

"I can't believe this. You're actually pleased with yourself, aren't you?" I shake my head, exasperated but unable to hide my own smile.

"Should I not be?" Luca asks. He nods at the carcass beside him. "Do me a favour and retrieve my sword."

Jaron does as he says, yanking the bloody sword free of the beast's underbelly.

"Well fought." He says, handing Luca back his weapon by the hilt.

Even beneath a layer of black goop, Luca fairly glows in the light of Jaron's approval. I glance back and forth between the pair, for the first time catching identical expressions of respect.

"I do hate to spoil the moment." I say, tearing my eyes away from the brothers and back to Luca's kill. The Wasters have already gathered around the body and have begun examining it. Through the crowd I can make out bits of blood-coated fur and most worryingly, the conspicuously familiar metal gear. "But what in the Burn do we make of that?"