Clockwork Heart (27 page)

“Emelie said you helped Neuillan avoid the loyalty program.” She dredged its name out of her memory. “Refinery. Is that true?”

“She must have been mistaken.”

“She seemed pretty certain.” Taya gave him a steady look. “You were working with Neuillan, weren't you? Did you know Cristof helped catch him?”

“In his role as a lictor's spy?” Amazingly, Alister seemed as disapproving as Viera had been. “Cris shouldn't have gotten involved. Neuillan took good care of us when we were orphaned. Arresting him was poor thanks.”

“Was he really a traitor?”

Cristof sighed. “Yes, I'm afraid he was. But I didn't know that at the time. I thought he was an idealist, like me, willing to bend the rules for the greater good. I was as shocked as anyone else when his ties to Alzana came to light. But if I'd been the one to find out, I would have tried to reason with him, not arrest him.”

“How did
you
cheat Refinery?”

“I've never cheated it,” he said, surprised. “I'm not a traitor. Don't you understand? Everything I've done, I've done for Ondinium.”

She felt sick. “Refinery can't identify murderers?”

“It can only calculate someone's likelihood to kill. Certain types of bloodshed are desirable, you know. Lictors need to be able to kill as part of their job. And look at you! You threw a man to his death to protect my brother.” Alister's voice softened as Taya twitched with guilt. “But I respect that, just as I respect Cris killing to protect you. It's perfectly rational to defend yourself and your friends. Believe me, if I could have done this peacefully, I would have. If Pins hadn't been giving evidence to the lictors, if Caster had only seen reason, if Cristof hadn't been so close to identifying me…”

Taya ignored his excuses, still brooding over the man she'd thrown over the side of the crosswalk. “Who was he? The man I killed?”

“I'm not sure. William, I think. He thought you were a terrorist, breaking in to stop me from doing my job.”

“You mean, he was innocent?” Fresh horror swept over her. “I thought he was your accomplice!”

“He was one of the lictors who stayed behind to guard the Tower. He didn't have any reason to doubt me when I informed him I'd hiked up from Primus to check the Engine. He and his partner escorted me here and stood guard while I worked.”

Taya felt like she was about to vomit. The man had just been doing his job.
Lady
. She began to shake.
Oh, Lady, grant him a swift rebirth and forgive my sins.

She grasped at a straw. “Why didn't he recognize you? The lictors would have known Exalted Forlore was supposed to have died in the explosion.”

“I didn't give them my real name, and unlike my brother, I don't travel in public without my mask.” Alister shrugged. “I was carrying convincing security papers and I wrote down the correct passwords. Lictors are selected for obedience, bless them.”

“They would have figured out the truth eventually.” Taya drew in a deep breath. “Sooner or later they would have told someone about you, and inquiries would have been made.”

“Ah…” Alister frowned at his chipped nails, then looked up. His face was hard. “Take off your armature, Taya.”

“So you can throw me over the side, too?”

“Are you going to make me? So far all of this can be explained away, if you'll agree to cooperate. But if it boils down to my word against yours, I don't need to tell you which one of us will be believed, do I?”

“Cristof will support me.”

“It won't be that hard to prove that you're both Torn Cards who came here to destroy the Great Engine after trying to kill me and Caster. You were close to the last wireferry accident. Maybe you were there to make sure it killed the right man and only rescued Viera when it became clear Caster wasn't on the car. And Cris, well, he's already a suspect. Those two lictors were heroes who rescued me in the middle of the night and then died to save me from your attack. I can make you a hero or a villain, Taya Swan. Which will it be?”

Taya shifted, rising on her toes and planting her back more firmly against the railing. Pain made her head swim.

“You wouldn't do that to Cristof. You might ruin me, but you wouldn't hurt your brother.”

“I would rather not hurt either of you.” His voice dropped. “Work with me, Taya. We'll retrieve Cris and explain to him that the lictors were forcing me to reprogram the Engine at gunpoint. I'll make you both heroes, and then, if you'll let me, I'll prove to you that I'm not such a bad man.”

He stepped closer. Taya pushed herself up until she was sitting on the railing, her back to the open chasm. “Don't,” she warned.

“Please.” Bright light glittered off his golden jewelry and highlighted the castemarks on his face and the smear of blood along his cut cheek. “You know how much I admire you. You said you felt the same way about me. Do you remember our dance? You looked so beautiful in that dress. I wish you'd gone home with me that night. Pins might have stayed alive, if you'd kept me occupied.”

Taya was caught by his emerald gaze, remembering his strong arms holding her as they danced. Then she thought about Caster Octavus and Pins, and she jerked her gaze away with disgust.

His expression darkened, and he lunged. Taya let herself fall backward, tumbling heels-over-head off the rail.

“Taya!”

She saw Cristof stare at her, wide-eyed, as he clung to the side of the Great Engine, just beneath the crosswalk. Then he looked up at his brother, lifted his arm, and fired his needle gun through the grillwork.

Taya closed her eyes, feeling the air rushing against her face. She reached up and slid her arms into the wings by touch. Without the spinning depths to disorient her, she stretched and unlocked them.

She opened her eyes, waited until her tumbling put her head-up again, and spread her arms.

So far, so good. None of the chasm-crossing cables or catwalks had caught her. That had been her only concern. Falling backward off a ledge was an icarus game she'd played often as a teenager, dangling from wireferry towers and sitting on cliff tops. The only danger was the unknown.

The thrill of free fall cleared her mind and pushed the pain away. She took advantage of the respite, forcing herself to gain altitude as fast as she could.

Above her, Cristof was clinging to the outside of the platform railing. Alister had grabbed the pistol's barrel and they were struggling for the possession of it. Taya swept her arms down again, flying up to break the stalemate.

Alister glanced over Cristof's shoulder and saw her. He redoubled his efforts.

Cristof released the gun and rolled himself over the railing, falling to the crosswalk floor. As Taya sped toward the platform, Alister thrust the barrel of the gun into Cristof's face and pulled the trigger.

Taya made a strangled protest, but nothing happened. With an oath, Alister fumbled for the safety.

“Alister!” Taya twisted and began to backbeat. Alister glanced up at her, then back down at the gun.

Cristof fumbled in his flight-belt pockets as Alister's thumb snapped the safety back. Alister aimed the weapon just as his brother's hand reemerged.

The outcaste opened his fingers and a five-pound ondium counterweight shot into the air, clipping his brother under the chin. Alister's head rocked backward and a spray of needles stitched the air, one sending a shudder through Taya's wing as it hit an ondium feather.

Taya's heavy boots slammed into Alister's chest and drove him backward, into the Great Engine. The metal punch card tray on the Engine's face snapped off beneath him, and her wounded leg felt like it was on fire.

She frantically backbeat to keep her balance, and then Cristof ducked between her wings, grabbing the harness straps between her shoulders and steadying her until she got her feet beneath her again.

Limping, Taya grabbed the front of Alister's robes and slammed him against the Engine one more time.

“I hate you!” she shouted. Tears of anger and pain streaked her face. “You make me sick!”

“My gun,” Cristof protested. Careless of her own safety, Taya yanked the weapon from Alister's hand and held it over her shoulder. Cristof took it from her.

“Taya.” Alister looked stunned. “I'm sorry.”

She spit in his face, then stepped back to let Cristof have him. Alister wiped off his cheek, looking hurt.

“What was that for?”

“Trying to kill your brother.”

Cristof stepped to one side on the platform, the needle gun held steady.

“You punched
me
when you'd thought I'd killed my brother,” he observed. “Why does Alister get off so lightly?”

“I thought you'd succeeded.” Taya was shaking with released tension. “Alister only tried.”

“Twice.” Cristof turned a hard gaze on their prisoner. He looked as forbidding as he had the first time she'd seen him.

“Don't exaggerate, Cris.” Alister's emerald eyes darted back and forth. “I knew the fall wouldn't hurt you, and I wasn't trying to kill you with the pistol.”

“You didn't think shooting me in the face would be fatal?” Cristof was squinting, and Taya realized he wasn't wearing his glasses. He must have lost them in the fall. “Maybe you were too excited about throwing me into the abyss to notice what I did to your lictor?”

“You'd better let me have the gun,” Taya said, worried about Cristof's nearsighted aim.

“I'm sorry, Taya, but I don't think you have a cold enough heart to shoot.” The tall exalted's voice was flat. “I, on the other hand, am very tempted to run a few needles through your legs right now, Alister.”

“And then what would you do?” Alister straightened and smoothed the front of his embroidered robe. “Are you going to turn me in, Cris? You know what they'll do to me, don't you? Are you really going to let them blind me and flog me out the city gates? After all we've been through together?”

Cristof's needler trembled. Then he shifted his grip and the trembling stopped.

“Blinding is for traitors, Al. Murder carries the death penalty.”

“So you'll let me die? That would make you the last Forlore. Will you go back to Primus and take up the mask again? Or you will you let our family line vanish from the ranks of the exalted?”

“I don't see any compelling reason to keep it going. The last two generations have been murderers.”

“You're as guilty as I am,” Alister said, pointing to the lictor's body sprawled on the crosswalk behind them.

“Exactly,” Cristof said, evenly. “As I said, no compelling reason.”

“Cris, let me tie him up,” Taya said, reaching for her safety line and remembering that she'd left it on the catwalk high above. “I need your line.”

Cristof pulled the coil off his harness and held it out. She limped forward and took it.

“Our swan's been shot,” Alister said, watching them. “Did you notice the blood on her leg? I don't think you should make her walk around on it.”

“Shot?” Cristof turned, giving her an alarmed look. “I thought—”

Alister tackled him. Taken off guard, Cristof staggered and fell to one knee, his air pistol skittering across the grillwork from his hand.

Taya grabbed for the weapon. Its barrel brushed her fingertips as it slipped over the catwalk edge.

The two brothers grappled. Cristof was taller, but Alister was stronger and heavier. The younger brother laughed as Cristof realized his ondium-buoyed harness put him at a distinct disadvantage. Taya was afraid Alister was going to hoist Cristof up and throw him over the side again, but then Cristof grabbed Alister's neck with both hands, squeezing.

Alister's hand plunged into his robe and reappeared with Taya's knife.

Taya grabbed the first thing that came to hand, the torn box of tin punch cards, and slammed it down on Alister's head.

The box split, sending the remaining cards tumbling everywhere. Alister winced and Taya grabbed the back of Cristof's harness, yanking him up and away from his brother. Then her leg gave out and she sagged, darkness swimming before her eyes.

Through the haze, Taya could barely make out Alister recovering and flicking her knife toward his brother. A red line appeared on Cristof's jaw, jarringly vivid against the spots that floated in front of her eyes. She groped across the catwalk and grabbed a handful of wide tin cards. When Cristof shifted to one side, she hurled them at Alister's face.

The decatur flinched. Cristof shoved him and they hit the metal railing, which shook and bent at the rivets.

Alister's eyes widened as the metal sagged beneath him. He grabbed Cristof at the same time that Cristof's hand closed on his arm. Cristof held him safe—

—and then the railing snapped and they both fell over the edge.

Without stopping to think, Taya grabbed the abandoned safety line and rolled off the catwalk after them.

This time she didn't try to put on her wings. Instead, she extended her arms and legs into a dive, the line snapping against her as she fell.

The two men were tumbling, gaining speed on the descent. Taya reached into her nearest counterweight pocket and pulled out the ondium bar, releasing it and letting it dart up to the ceiling. Her speed increased.

She had time. Buoyed by Cristof's ondium, they hadn't yet reached terminal velocity. She yanked out another counterweight and let it go. Then another.

She was drawing closer. She hooked one end of the safety line to her armature and reached out.

Alister and Cristof were clutching each other, their fight forgotten in the horror of the unexpected plunge. Taya's first attempt to clip the rope to Cristof failed. Her second attempt succeeded. The hook snapped onto his harness belt.

He looked up, his eyes widening.

“It's okay!” she tried to shout, but the words were ripped from her mouth. She began the struggle to re-wing herself. It wasn't easy with the safety line dangling between them.