“We’ll fly Kincaid’s standard as we approach,” Falon explains. “We can only hope that in the chaos, no one looks too closely.”
“It will be fine,” Dante says. “Kincaid isn’t back yet. Jax and I can deal with any problems that arise.”
“I sure hope so,” Falon responds, but she looks skeptical.
Erik and I change, backs turned to each other. Neither of us speaks, but I’m sure he can hear my heart beating. It’s as loud as a drum, pounding against my chest.
“Zip me up?” I ask, once I’ve shimmied into the tight suit.
Erik pulls my zipper up and then plants a soft kiss on the back of my neck. The world around me stops, strands glimmering, swimming in a vital tangle of life and energy. I live a lifetime in the softness of those lips and the heat of his breath on my skin. I don’t say anything. Instead I shrug on my vest and stride from the room, unable to look at him.
Dante examines my vest and shows me a thin metal carabiner attached to a harness that will hold me to the rope as we rappel. I step into the harness and pull it over my legs. Dante grabs the carabiner. “Fall back.”
I eye him nervously, but allow my weight to shift back. I sway, but my head never hits the floor—Dante grips the carabiner and the harness holds. He grabs my arm and pulls me onto my feet with an approving smile.
“All you have to do is pull this under your leg. One hand here and the other here.” Falon demonstrates gripping the rope above the carabiner and then bringing the rope between her legs. Her other hand grips the rope against her tailbone. “Then push off and fall by slowly letting the rope slide in your hand. Don’t let go though.”
“You make that sound easy,” I say, taking a deep breath and mimicking her demonstration with the rope.
“Don’t overthink it,” she says. “Take these.” She holds out a pair of gloves. “We don’t want to damage your hands.”
“Thank you.” I don’t tell her they’re already damaged—that every bit of me is cracked and broken in some way.
She leans into me, whispering in my ear, “If anything happens, get to the tunnel and find me.”
I nod, but Dante steps between us to appraise my harness one last time.
“We’re here,” he says. No one appears on the deck to throw the tethers, and I look to him, confusion written across my face.
“We can’t stop,” he says. “We don’t know the nature of this situation and we can’t risk the aeroship. It’s the only one the Agenda has.”
Because I destroyed the other one, I realize. I nod my head, trying to look brave, but I’m failing miserably.
Dante leads me to the only side of the deck without a railing. Four ropes are waiting in coiled piles. He yells but his words are caught in the wind. Then he grabs a rope and slings it over the side of the ship. It unfurls in the air, staying anchored to the deck. He pulls the rope between his legs. Positioning his hands, he leans back into the open air and jerks his head as if to say
“Any advice?” I ask Jax as we near the ropes.
“Slide fast,” he says, patting me on the shoulder.
I wrap the rope around my thigh and then clip the carabiner around it. My hands grip the rope tightly.
“Go!” Dante shouts over the rush of air around us.
He disappears over the side along with Jax.
“I can’t do this,” I call to Erik.
“You have to,” he says, and then as if to dare me, he lets go, sliding furiously from my side.
I relax back into the wind and close my eyes, feeling the rope in my hands. It’s just a strand, I tell myself as my blood pounds through my veins and into my frenzied heart. The breeze kisses my cheeks and roars in my ears. Retightening my grip, I push off the deck and into the air.
THIRTY-TWO
I’M SUSPENDED IN THE AIR, THE ROPE anchoring me. As I fall back, my body twists until I’m hanging upside down.
I’m hovering above Earth, swaying with the forward movement of the aeroship. Using every bit of strength I can muster, I heave my body up until I’m clinging, right side up, to the rope. Taking a deep breath, I relax my fingers for an instant. I plummet several feet before my fingers tighten over the rope and stop my progress.
“Okay,” I say to myself—because I’m hanging from a rope, alone in the middle of the air, “you know how it works, now let go.”
I have to repeat it several more times before I let myself slide. The effect is instantaneous. I zip down the rope, and despite my gloves and suit the friction burns across my skin, leaving a trail of fire running through my body. Gravity pulls at my hair, loosening it to fly around my face. I dare to look down at the ground hurtling up to meet me. The rope tears at my gloves, but I control my descent until I’m dangling several feet from the ground. The aeroship continues to glide overhead and it pulls me slowly through the air as I try to convince myself to let go and drop the last few feet.
“Took you long enough,” Erik calls out.
“I stopped for tea—what took
“Let go,” Erik calls. “I’ll catch you.”
I stare down at Erik, who’s jogging along to keep up with me.
“Ready?” I call, and despite my better judgment, I release my grip on the rope.
It is not an elegant landing. Erik catches me, but he buckles against my weight and we both crash to the ground.
“Way to stick the landing,” Dante says, looming over us.
“Shut up and help me,” I say.
Once we’re on our feet, we survey the situation, discovering we’re not far from the estate.
“I sent Jax in,” Dante explains. “We shouldn’t show up at the same time.”
“Let’s not sit around talking then,” I say. “We’ve got an estate to save.”
At first nothing seems wrong, but the closer we get to Kincaid’s, the more uneasy I feel. The first sign that something terrible has happened is a hole blasted in the large perimeter fence.
“Explosives.” Dante kicks at a pile of debris around the shattered portion of the fence.
“Guild,” I murmur.
“It’s probably Remnants, but the Guild might not be far behind. Cormac knows that you’ve been holed up here,” Dante says.
I’m not prepared for the scene we stumble upon once we reach the main grounds of the estate. Several of Kincaid’s precious statues lie in ruins on the ground, marble heads and arms sown along the brick walkway. As we get closer to the great house, we discover something far more disturbing though—bodies.
Kincaid left a skeleton crew behind when the mission went after the Whorl, and it had often felt like we were the only three people left on the estate, but now I see how wrong I was. I trip over the legs of a corpse, falling onto a body covered with thick alteration scars.
“Remnants,” Dante says, helping me to my feet.
Most of the other bodies scattered across the grounds are Kincaid’s men and a few servants I recognize from mealtimes. My heart leaps into my throat when I spot the corpse of a blond woman, still wearing the face from the play Kincaid put on a few weeks ago. Apparently the Tailors never got around to altering it back.
“It looks like we missed all the action,” Erik says, but as if to prove him wrong, a blast booms from the main house, sending showers of brick and tile ricocheting in our direction. Erik throws me to the ground as Dante sprints toward the building.
