“This is the Lightbringer’s life we’re saving!” Cruxer shouted. “Do it! That’s an order!” He was reloading the blunderbuss as fast as he could.

Kip heaved, and the crenellation-counterweight split off the side of the building and fell. This one was far larger than the other. It plunged and the steel line hummed, and then the counterweight crashed into the ground near the base of the Prism’s Tower far below—and through the ground, into the vast underground practice yards, as it had apparently been designed to do.

Kip only hoped no one had been killed below.

From his vantage, Kip couldn’t see what had happened in the city. He wondered if he’d just killed people. But before he could get to the edge to see, he had to make it past the line of fire of the wheeled shield wall that the Lightguards were pushing forward. In moments, they would have it all the way to the door, and their field of fire would expand to encompass most of the top of the tower.

Flipping on his red spectacles as he ran to take a position next to Cruxer, Kip drew red in and in, until he wanted to combust. He threw his hand forward and shot red out in a stream, as hard and concentrated as he could manage.

The stream splattered over and under and around the wheeled shield wall and deep into the hallway.

The Lightguards knew what red luxin meant. Five of the men who’d been pushing the shield wall forward panicked and bolted.

Panic is contagious, but not all are susceptible. A big man stepped up, smearing some of the pyrejelly off his face. He lifted his matchlock—but never got the shot off. When the burning slow match was brought close, the red luxin on his face ignited.

He shot the musket into the ceiling and the sound of a ricochet whine preceded the sound of rapidly spreading fire. He screamed.

Kip ran past the door and flames and found Ben-hadad fitting the wheel mechanisms over the steel cable.

“The line didn’t kill anyone,” he said. “It came off the top of the city walls. Ingenious. Who’s first?”

“I’ll go,” Kip said.

“Breaker’s not going first,” Cruxer said. “Thing may not work. I go first. Winsen, you’re second. Give me a ten count. Might need to fight at the other end. Then Ferkudi. Then the wounded: Big Leo, you first, then Ben-hadad. Then Kip. Teia, you bring up the rear.”

“Anything special I need to do?” Cruxer asked Ben-hadad.

“Just hold on,” Ben-hadad said. He snapped the mechanism onto the line. Cruxer stepped quickly onto the iron sides of the inverted T and gripped the post in his hand. “But I think—”

Cruxer hopped off the side of the Prism’s Tower and flew down the line. He just kept going faster and faster. The first section was nearly a free fall. In ten seconds, he was nearly beyond the sea and over Big Jasper.

“I was going to say,” Ben-hadad said, “that it would be about ten times safer to sit on the crossbar. Straddle it.”

Winsen did, sitting right on the edge. “If this racks my stones,” he started, but he didn’t get to complete the threat, because Big Leo pushed him off.

Ferkudi went next, and then Big Leo, who handed Kip a pistol. “Won’t be accurate for shit. It’s loaded with a danar. But might be better than nothing.”

Ben-hadad made sure Kip was paying attention to how the mechanism locked onto the cable as he prepped his own.

“Uh, is that the last one?” Kip asked.

“No, no, there’s a whole extra compartment of them,” Ben-hadad said. Then he went.

Teia ran over to the other compartment while Kip laboriously set up his own wheel, checking and double-checking it.

“Breaker?” Teia called out. There was something tight in her voice. “Kip?”

He looked over. She pulled a wheel out of the case. It was so corroded it was hardly recognizable. “What’s that?” he said. He didn’t want to understand.

“There was a hole in the compartment. It’s been getting rain in there for years, decades maybe.”

“Well, grab another one,” Kip said. “And hurry, Teia, I hear voices in the hall. They got drafters to put out the fires.”

“Breaker. They’re all ruined.”

They looked at each other. “You take this one,” Kip said. “I’ll draft a copy of it, and be right after you.”

“You’re not that good a drafter, and we both know it.”

“I can do it.”

“Kip.”

“We don’t have time to fight, Teia.”

“Kip! I’ll stay. I can go invisible—” She started grabbing the hood to pull it up.

“There’ll be dozens and dozens of them. They’re all going to come flooding out at once. Dammit, Teia! They’ll find you by touch.”

“Breaker, Goss died to get you out of here. Don’t throw that away.”

“Don’t you turn this on me!”

“Don’t turn it on me! We have our orders.”

“You know the thing about fat kids?”

“What? What?!”

“When we don’t want to move, we ain’t gonna.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Come here, I just had an idea.” He flipped on his yellow spectacles. “We both go.”

He sat, straddling the inverted T, not far from the edge, but not so close she could just push him and make him go.

“There’s no way it’s going to hold both of us,” Teia said.

“Lap, now!”

Teia grabbed the center bar and swung one leg around it, straddling the T and Kip from the opposite side.

Her eyes went wide as she settled into place, but not from sitting on his lap. “Kip! Go! Kip, go, go, go! Aram!”

But instead of helping him push off, she was leaning to Kip’s left, the same leg he was trying to rock forward. He realized she was trying to draw the pistol he’d tucked behind the lens holster, but it was trapped underneath them.

A musket fired behind Kip, and Kip felt something shift. He hadn’t been hit. He looked at Teia; she hadn’t been hit either, but she was looking up. He followed her gaze. The bullet had hit the mechanism where the inverted T connected to the wheel. As Kip and Teia watched, the wheel rolled down the cable without them.

They were now tangled together, sitting on a bar completely unconnected to the cable.

“Would you believe I was aiming for your head?” Aram said. “Lucky miss, for you, huh? Thing is, I’m a lot better with a spear.”

One thousand one. One thousand two. Kip had never successfully drafted solid yellow luxin in less than a six count. Every time he went faster, his yellow broke.

Teia finally reached Kip’s pistol. She tugged on it, but it was held in place. She pulled harder. Gave up. She started to stand—

One thousand three. One thousand—

Kip hugged Teia to himself, and hopped off the edge of the tower.

Teia hugged him hard with her arms and legs as they fell, eyes squeezed tight shut. They fell and fell—and then swooshed out over the Chromeria’s wall, and out over the sea, together.

She looked up, stunned. Kip had drafted a simple loop of solid yellow luxin over the cable, and doubled the bar they were sitting on. He swapped spectacles and drafted a steady stream of orange for lubrication where yellow luxin scraped over steel cable. They were emitting a constant stream of yellow sparks, but it would hold. It would hold long enough.