Chapter 17 · Skyfall Breach

"Hold your breath or you're going to puke on my boots!" Lyra screamed over the roar of the wind.

We weren't falling—we were plummeting. The lift cage had sheared off like a piece of scrap paper, and now Darek and Lyra were two human bullets screaming toward the steel deck of the High Spire. The air was a freezing wall, ripping the breath right out of my lungs.

"I'm not the one puking!" I yelled back, though my teeth were rattling so hard I nearly bit my tongue.

Above us, the sky didn't just look angry; it looked lethal. The anti-air flak batteries of the Spire were spitting black, jagged blossoms of fire into the clouds. One of those shells detonated fifty feet above us, the shockwave slamming into my chest like a physical fist. It knocked me sideways, sending me spinning into a dizzying blur of grey steel and white smog.

"Darek! Grab me!"

Lyra’s voice was barely a whisper against the gale, but I saw her hand. She was reaching out, her fingers straining, her face a mask of desperate focus. I lunged, my mechanical arm whining as the servos pushed past their limit.

Our hands slammed together.