The girl leaped from the rope, snatched at the ladder, feet flailing for purchase. Shuriken fire shredded the Seeker’s hull, the roar of more sky-ships rising over the pulse throbbing in her temples. Eiko was screaming, holding out her hand as the Seeker began to rise. Daichi hurled himself at the ladder, wrapping one fist on the bottom rung. Kaori at last woke from the dream, leaping into the void, hand outstretched, catching his, rough as stone. The Seeker rose up into the light. Sirens wailing, the roar of ironclads, the percussion of ’thrower fire, metallic shouts. Engines pushed to full burn, sweeping away from the First House complex, wind tearing at Kaori’s face, her skin, the ladder swaying in its grip.
She looked down at the monastery, the ruined valley, the rusted pipeline snaking up the mountainside. Rising higher, sweat greasing her palm and her father’s. Hard to breathe, hard to think, impossible to climb, looking up to the Kitsune cloudwalkers and Guildsmen as they began hauling the ladder up, foot by agonizing foot. Knuckles white. Fingers numb. Slipping.
“Hold on to me!” Daichi roared.
“I can’t!”
“Don’t let me go!”
Shuriken fire filling the air, another burst from the pursuing ironclads. She felt a projectile whistle past her cheek, the ladder bucking as another struck it, dropping them a jarring foot and leaving them dangling by a single fraying cord. Eiko screaming. Freezing wind bringing tears to her eyes, crystallizing in her lashes.
Fingers entwined in his.
“Father!”
Slipping.
“Kaori! Hold on to me!”
Slipping.
“Hold on!”
Squeeze.
*
Sudden chaos. Panicked voices echoing in the Earthcrusher ducts, empty murmurings of the Shatei standing stupefied and staring at nothing at all. Whispers coalescing into a fact almost too impossible to comprehend.
Shinji grasped Kin’s arm, eliciting a hiss of pain as his fingertips touched cauterized flesh. But the boy’s eyes were saucer-wide, hand pressed to the skitter-chatter of his mechabacus. And when he spoke, his voice was breathless, as if he’d been slugged in the gut.
“First Bloom is dead…”
An echo beneath the duct they hid inside, listless steps dragging across steel mesh. “First Bloom is dead…”
Kin stared at Shinji, incredulous. “Gods above…”
“Two hundred years…” Shinji breathed. “Two centuries he’s sat inside First House. Who the hells could possibly take his place? They’re done, Kin!”
Kin said nothing, rolling onto his back, almost weeping in pain. Hands, forearms, shins and feet—all blistering, layers of skin left behind like snake scale. Sweat burned in the wounds, tremors shaking him head to toe. The agony was enough to dislocate consciousness from flesh, shock flooding every receptor. But he couldn’t stop here. Not this close to the end.
The Earthcrusher came to another halt, its deafening footsteps silenced as word of Tojo’s demise spread across the frequencies. The body fell still without its head, anguish echoing through its gut. But Kin hurt so badly he could barely move.
“Do you have any opiates?” he hissed. “An aidkit?”
“No,” Shinji said. “I’m sorry.”
“Gods, it’s killing me…” Eyes squeezed shut. Teeth clenched.
Just breathe …
“A little farther. We’re almost above the engines. I’ll plant the charges. But we have to hurry while everyone is still reeling from Tojo’s death.”
“Just leave me here.”
“I can’t do this alone, Kin. You have to move.”
Kin tried to roll onto his belly, face contorted, teeth gleaming white against broiled flesh.
“I can’t…”
Shinji stared, lips pursed, drumming his fingers on the vent’s innards.
“Why are you here, Kin-san?”
“In this vent?”
“I mean, why did you rebel against the Guild?”
Kin closed his eyes. Took a deep, calming breath that shivered all the way into his lungs. “Because what they do is wrong. Killing the land, choking the sky—”
“No.” Shinji shook his head. “People don’t just wake up one day and throw away everything they’ve been raised to believe. Why are you really here?”
Kin opened his eyes. Licked at cracking lips.
“A girl…”
“Ah.”
“Yukiko.”
“The Stormdancer?”
He shook his head. “… She’s just Yukiko to me.”
“Then picture her at the end of this duct, Kin-san. Waiting for you. All you need to do is crawl to her.”
“But she’s not there…”
“Kin.” Shinji’s voice was like iron. “Crawl.”
And so he did. Rolling onto his belly and dragging himself as best he could. The texture of the metal like sandpaper on his flesh, soldered joins like hooks in his skin. Sweat burning his eyes, blisters popping, drool slicking his chin, head down, papercut eyes, crawling just one more foot. One more inch. Just to the next solder line. The next corner. The next level.
Eyes closed now, every movement that of a machine. One that didn’t feel pain. Skin sloughing away. Raw meat rasping on greasy iron. Feeling nothing.
Nothing at all.
Her picture in his mind, faded and curled at the edges like an old lithograph—an image burned into his thoughts a lifetime ago. Standing in the rain by her father’s grave, eyelids fluttering shut as she leaned in close. Lips like bruised roses brushing his own, feather-light. A curtain of night falling in sweet waves about her shoulders. All for her. All of it.