Heart of Iron (Heart of Iron #1)(14)

“You think?” the girl—Ana, apparently—snapped, and turned to Robb with a glare. “I don’t need your help, Ironblood.”

He returned the glare. “You’re welcome—”

The distinct stomp of Messier boots echoed down the hallway—the heartbeat of an unrelenting monster.

The three of them fled into the marina.

The metallic smell of city exhaust flooded Robb’s nose, washing away the stuffy aroma of flowers and Ironblood perfumes, as if the garden had been a dream.

Astoria hovered at its zenith—over five hundred feet in the air, closer to the skyline than the city streets below. A terrifying height, people so small that they blended into the streets, neon signs like twinkling stars.

Her Metal overrode the marina keypad, locking the doors to buy them time. His skysailer was two docks over—but it was trackable. Everything he owned was trackable. He was trackable.

But the girl seemed to have her own plan as she fled down the longest dock into the middle of the marina, the cityscape hundreds of feet below.

“What are you doing?” he asked, following. “It’s a dead end—”

She grabbed him by his coat collar and whipped him around, forcing him to the dock ledge. His heels teetered off precariously.

Oh.

Oh, so this was her plan.

He felt light-headed remembering the window at the Academy. Remembering the moment the Umbal boy let go.

If he fell—if she dropped him—he would die before he hit the ground, wouldn’t he?

Had Aran Umbal?

“Why do you want the coordinates?” she snapped, and when he didn’t answer, she shook him.

“M-my father w-went missing,” he said, holding on to her wrists, so if he fell he’d be damned sure to bring her with him. “I think—I think he was on Rasovant’s ship.”

“You think?”

“Why do you want the ship?” he asked.

Messiers were at the door now, trying to override the lock. Any moment they’d break through, and whatever hole he dug himself into would quickly bury him.

“Ana,” her Metal said when he caught up to them, “we can ask later.”

She narrowed her eyes.

The door buckled and collapsed, and the Messiers stepped through in perfect unison. Their eyes blazed with the glory of victory. Royal Captain Viera elbowed through the line, the ammunition in her Metroid glowing like starlight.

Goddess, this day was spacetrash.

“Release the young lord safely,” the Royal Captain said, “and we will not harm you.”

Well, that was a lie.

But the girl took the bait. She swung Robb off the edge and let go of him, turning to face the Royal Captain with her hands up in surrender. Her Metal followed suit.

Robb fixed his coat collar. Seriously? They believed that?

Viera crept closer, her face as stoic as those of the Messiers who followed her. “Now lower yourself onto the ground. . . .”

Ana glanced over at Robb. “You might want to hang on to something.”

“Why?” he asked, confused, as a hum began to vibrate up into the marina. “What’s that?”

A gust of wind rushed up from the city below, sending his coattails fluttering. The docks gave a heave, skysailers bumping together with sharp thwacks. He pinwheeled his arms to keep his balance, jerking his head around to find the source of the wind.

A skysailer rose up above the docks, windshield flipped open. The pilot, his long starlight-silver ponytail whipping like a ribbon in the wind, pulled up his goggles and gave him a wink.

Robb stared.

Goddess’s spark, was he already dead?

“Down!” cried the girl, grabbing him by the arm, and jerked him to the ground as the pilot tilted the skysailer forward.

The wind howled. Roared. Scraped over them. It tossed the skysailers out of their parking spaces like toy boats and sent the Messiers and the Royal Captain flying backward.

The next Robb knew, the Metal had him up by his coat and was tossing him into the sky. To his death. One moment there was the dock—then the cityscape far below. This was how he was going to die.

He knew it.

Metals could never be trusted.

Until the skysailer came into view.

He covered his face with his arms a split second before he slammed into the backseat of the sailer with the wind knocked out of him. He scrambled to his knees, trying to catch his breath. His body shook.

The pilot glanced back at him with eyes the color of lilac flowers. Silver hair, violet eyes—a Solani. “Buckle up, little lord. Don’t want your pretty ass falling out.”

Robb pulled himself to sit up as the girl and her Metal jumped next. They quickly sat, fishing for their seat belts as if his request wasn’t an exaggeration at all. Seriously? Robb had never buckled himself into a skysailer in his entire l—

A bullet pinged off the dash.

He glanced back to the source and found Viera struggling to her feet, smoking Metroid in her grip. A thin line of blood ran down her forehead. There was a gleam in her eyes—dark, feral, resolute—that made him shiver.

She shot again.

This time the bullet struck through the grates to the engine. Red warnings flared up across the dashboard as the engine gave a whine, sputtered—

And died two thousand feet above the city of Nevaeh.