and the rubble in the street glittered with shards of broken glass.
Minutes crawled past, and then Taya saw a glimmer of light inside the building. She straightened, straining to see it again.
A shot echoed through the building, and she was on her feet, stumbling into Lars. He steadied her and they both rushed into the street as a woman shrieked.
Now lamplight was clearly visible from the windows, as if some barrier had fallen.
'Don't move,' Cristof shouted, inside the building.
'Come on!' Taya ran across the street and scrambled over broken rocks, hardly noticing the pain shooting through her calf.
'Wait, wait!' Lars wrapped a hand around one of the metal bars of her tailset as she braced her leather- gloved hands on a windowsill. 'What are you doing?'
'Somebody might be hurt!'
'Emelie!' Victor's voice, from inside the refinery. 'Emelie, wait!'
Lars shoved in front of her, heaving his bulk through the window. Taya waited until he was clear and then started to climb through, only to have the big man grab her by the metal keel and lift her through. She yelped as a wing hit the side of the windowsill and sent vibrations rattling through her armature.
'You're lighter than you look,' he grunted, setting her on her feet.
'Ondium.' She looked around, getting her bearings. There — the light was to the northwest. 'Look!'
They stood in a huge open space filled with equipment that blocked the light, but it was clear that some kind of makeshift encampment had been set up to one side, where several lamps were burning. Lars began to run toward it, and Taya limped after him, cursing the machinery that kept looming up out of the dark and forcing her to swerve or stumble.
Another gunshot rang out, and then a third. Voices began to shout in Alzanan:
'Put your weapons down!'
'I only see one! Where'd the second one go?'
'Toss me that box of bullets!'
Taya flinched, swerving toward the wall again, and ran into a metal staircase. Surprised, she looked up and saw that it led to a catwalk that circled the open workspace.
A door slammed. 'Vic?' Isobel's voice.
Taya considered her options. If the catwalk encircled the area, she could get over the firefight, which would give her a chance to shout directions to her friends. On the other hand, it would also make her more vulnerable to stray bullets. Her aching leg reminded her of what a bad idea that would be.
Then she heard a clatter and felt the metal vibrate under her hand as somebody ran above her. She grabbed the staircase railing and half-climbed, half-hauled herself upward.
'Lars, get down!' Cristof cried out as another shot cracked through the building. Taya yanked herself up to the catwalk and saw a figure leaning over the railing, aiming a rifle.
'Wait!' she shouted, panicked. Then, switching to Alzanan: 'Stop! You must surrender! The building is surrounded!'
The man turned, his rifle barrel dropping. Taya threw herself forward.
The Alzanan yanked the rifle back up, but ondium and desperation gave her the momentum she needed to close the distance before he could squeeze off a shot. Taya's gloved hands grabbed the weapon's barrel, shoving it aside, and she rammed a metal-protected shoulder into him. The man staggered and the rifle went off, bucking in both of their hands.
Then she tore it from his grasp and he tried to ram an elbow into her ribs, only to hit the metal of her armature keel. He winced and used an Alzanan word she hadn't learned yet.
Taya slammed the rifle's butt against the side of his head. The Alzanan staggered and his legs buckled underneath him.
'Sorry,' she said as she kicked him in groin with her metal-toed flight boot. With a strangled groan he collapsed, holding himself.
She put the rifle down with a sense of distaste, then turned and looked over the railing.
From her vantage point over the encampment, she could see everything. The Alzanans had cleared away the fallen rubble to set up a small lair with scrounged blankets and boards serving as makeshift walls. The center was dominated by a work table covered with wire and metal pipes and buckets and cord. The lamps next to it gave off the light she and Lars had seen a few minutes before. Sleeping mats were scattered along one side of the room, and a wagon filled with crates stood at the northernmost end, close to the bay doors in front.
One man was lying on the soot-covered floor next to the table, holding his arm. Blood trickled through his fingers, and his face was pale as his dark eyes darted back and forth.
Three gunmen were crouched by the wagon, two aiming, the other reloading. They were intent on Cristof, who had taken cover behind a low stack of wooden crates. He was digging in his coat pockets for something, but from the looks of things, he wasn't finding it. His rifle was on his lap, its breech open. The crates had several splintered bullet holes in them.
A few feet away, Lars had ducked beneath some kind of heavy equipment that had been twisted and bent by the explosion. The Alzanans had a clear shot at him, but he was low and in shadow and the Alzanan with the gun seemed more worried about Cristof.
She didn't see Isobel, Victor or Emelie, but from where she was standing, she could just make out someone huddled against one of the makeshift walls in an awkward position.
Cristof stopped searching his pockets and pinched the arch of his nose. Then he set the rifle aside and rolled onto his stomach, peering around the boxes.
One of the armed Alzanans tensed, but Cristof ducked back and the man's finger loosened on the trigger.
'Out of cartridges?' the Alzanan mocked, his voice loud.
Cartridges! Taya crouched and began searching the groaning Alzanan at her feet. Her hands closed on the paper-wrapped cylinders. Hoping that all rifles took the same kind of ammunition, she leaned out as far as she could.
'Here!' She threw them down at Cristof, then scampered forward.
The second Alzanan spun toward her, squeezing off a shot that slammed into one of the catwalk supports. The whole walkway shuddered.
'Dammit, be careful!' the fallen Alzanan shouted, hoarsely, in his own language. 'I'm up here!'
Taya edged back to him, grabbed his weapon, and kicked him again to make sure he'd stay down.
'Cris!' She hurled the Alzanan's rifle toward the exalted as hard as she could. It clattered several feet beyond him. She'd done better with the cartridges, which were now scattered around his crate.
'I thought I told you to stay outside!' Cristof shouted, snatching up one of the cartridges and loading his rifle.
'There are three men by the wagon. One's reloading. It looks they've got four pistols between them,' she reported, gambling that the Alzanans wouldn't take another shot at her voice and risk hitting their friend.
She gambled wrong. She shrieked as the bullet tore into the catwalk and made it shudder and creak again.
'Taya!'
'I'm okay!' She backed up as far as she could, finding a shadowed area out of the circles of light cast by the lamps below. 'There's another man by the far wall. He's not moving. It might be Kyle.'
'Kyle!' Lars stood, his hands wrapped around a twisted metal bar that he held like a club. 'Kyle, is that you?'
Both Alzanans turned to aim. Cristof swore and leaped to his feet, rifle pointed at the armed men.
Lars charged.
'No! Don't!' Taya lunged against the rail, jamming her arms into her wings.
Cristof's shot winged one of the gunmen, who shouted and staggered backward. The other Alzanan fired at Lars and ducked.
Lars stumbled, then grabbed the worktable with his free hand and flung it toward the wagon as he ran. Glass and chemicals flew, and the Alzanan flinched, throwing his arms over his face.
