The Rain (Part III of the Runner Series)

Chapter 40

My emptied hand stings as I throw out an elbow, catching Will in the jaw before yanking myself free and scrambling away. Wishing for my father's dagger I search for something, anything to arm myself with. Finding my stolen broadsword a few yards off I make a wild dash, turning when Meg lets out a shriek of warning.

Will has appeared behind me, his expression blank as he captures my shoulder in an iron hold and slams me back against one of the Vane's support beams. The unforgiving steel presses in around me as I gasp for breath, twisting madly in Will's grip.

"Kay!" Someone shouts. I look over, eyes widening as Meg gestures from behind the crowd of Brutes. She ducks from view and a moment later one of their sabers is kicked across the ground toward me.

My heel connects solidly with Will's knee and I drop down onto all fours, diving behind him and picking up the saber. I waver for only a moment near his shoulders before driving the sharpened end through his cloak and into the floor, pinning him in place.

He releases a frustrated roar and I abandon the Brute's weapon in favour of the toolkit, half-running and half-stumbling toward it. The assorted items before me blur as I pick up a nearby belt, trying to recall any specifics about the Vane's construction. I steal a glance at Will attempting to free himself and make my selections carefully, stuffing the various tools into the pockets of the belt. Patience, Kay. One step at a time.

The icy sound of sharpened blade being pulled from wood tells me I have only moments left. With shaking fingers I clasp the ends of the belt together, cinching it over my shoulder.

"Look out!" Meg yells and I leap back, the sword's end missing my neck but catching my shoulder. I stumble, nearly collapsing under the extra weight of the toolbelt as I collide with another of the Vane's legs.

Up.

I have to go up.

I jump, my fingers closing around a crossbar. Swinging forward, my feet collide squarely with the monstrous gear protruding from Will's chest. He is sent careening backwards but I forbid myself from watching, instead training my eyes on the Vane's peak and beginning to climb.

The sound of mocking reaches my ears as I heave myself hand over hand into the raging sky.

"This is what you wanted, remember!" It's impossible to decipher whether the Madam's accusations are real or imagined. "You crossed to the edges of the desert to find young William, and here he is!"

Choking on the rain and the chase I climb higher. The structure beneath me shudders, the rungs turning to jelly as the phantom smells of sandalwood rise from the nightmare below and threaten to rip me from the tower. He's getting closer.

Bursts of lightning alight the Vane's point like a beacon. As I pull myself up the tower I dig through the fog and recall the basics taught to me by the technicians in Babel. This Vane dwarfs the machine we had in the dome but it's construction looks to be roughly the same: a silver conductor at the tip draws the sky's power and relays it down to the generators at the base. Most of the Vane is made of low-grade steel; if the top were severed then it would have no way of communicating with the storm.

Keep moving.

Meg's terrified shout calls my attention back to earth. Staring down between my feet I find Will only inches away.

I have barely an instant to ready myself before I am yanked down. Will's unnatural brute strength is as terrifying as it is shocking and I hold on as tight as I can, agony stealing my breath while my bad knee spasms. Spots of light form in the edges of my vision and as they close in an old piece of advice rises to the surface.