And if it's an army of men from the city that just tried to assassinate Aron…

I grab his arm, wincing at the angry buzz his skin gives me. "We've got to get out of here before they arrive."

"I have been saying such a thing," he tells me, with a slight roll of his eyes. "You think Tadekha and her people are equipped to fight an army? They will just play music at them and blow kisses and this pretty, floating city of hers will topple at the first lob of the trebuchet."

"All the more reason to go," I tell him, racing back to the bed. I snag one end of the rope and then race back toward the window. "Help me find something to tie this to."

Aron sighs heavily, but he takes one end and we search the room. Eventually, we figure out that tying it to one leg of a long shimmering chaise and then wedging it crossways against the enormous flat, cushion-like bed provides the best anchor we've got. It makes me nervous, but there's no time to spare, and nothing budges when we tug on it, so it'll have to do. I tuck a few of the combs and soaps into the front of my filmy dress, since we have no money or weapons—again—and I'm hoping maybe we can barter once we get away from here. I'm not going to think about the fact that I have no shoes and my dress is see-through. One problem at a time, and I've got Aron with me. He's like a weapon all on his own.

For a brief, shining moment, I wonder if we should take our chances with the guards in the halls. I hesitate, staring at the ornate double doors. There were at least a dozen guards waiting out there, sure. But I can try and hide in the room, let Aron handle things, and come out when it's safe. But I don't trust Tadekha to not have something up her sleeve. For all I know, they could lob a grenade into the room the moment Aron shows his face at the door, and then I'm toast. Even if we do take the guards down, what then? We're still trapped here with Aventine about to attack.

Rope ladder it is.

I turn back toward the window…and Aron is already climbing out the damn thing. "Hey!" I sputter. "Wait for me, asshole!"

"Then hurry up," he says impatiently, already out the window and moving down the rope. "You take far too long to get moving. Or is that the plan? Be recaptured by the Aventinians?"

"Wow, just when I think you've hit the height of arrogance, you prove me wrong yet again," I tell him, heading to the window myself. "So kudos for that."

"Less talking and more climbing," he tells me, and then his head disappears over the side.

"It's my damn rope," I declare, but it's pointless trying to reason with Aron. He's a god and he's got the ego to boot, and I shouldn't be surprised. With an irritated sigh, I grab onto the sheet-rope and turn to climb out the window.

OceanofPDF.com

19

They make this shit look so easy in the movies, but in reality, it's a nightmare. My arms are weak and strain under my own weight. Aron below me makes the rope shift back and forth, and the high breeze makes it almost like trying to climb down a pendulum. We're so high up it's terrifying, and I'm actually glad I don't have shoes on, because my toes cling to each knot. It's only the knots themselves that keep me from falling to my death, because I can rest my hands on each one. If I had to rely on my arm strength, I'd be dead already.

Still, I don't make fast enough time for Aron. He paces ahead of me quickly, shimmying down the rope as if he's done this a hundred times. Me, I've never realized just how out of shape I am until I have to use my arms for climbing down. I know we have to hurry. I'm trying.

I refuse to look down at the ground, because if I notice just how high up we are, I might freak the fuck out. I've never been afraid of heights that I know of, but I don't want today to be the day I acquire that fear. I just hope no one from above figures out what we're doing and cuts our rope—

Oh god, why did I just think that?

I force myself to move faster, to keep going. Because this is not safe, and no matter how scary it is, I have to get to the ground, and fast. Whimpering, sobbing, I keep moving down, foot by painful foot. My hands feel raw from how tightly I've gripped the rope, and each knot burns against my skin. Doesn't matter.

Just keep moving down.

Just keep moving down.

Something grabs my ankle. I let out a terrified scream, nearly losing my grip. Only sheer terror of falling to my death keeps me from letting go.

"Calm yourself," Aron shouts up at me.

I look down, and sure enough, it's his hand on my ankle. "Don't fucking do that," I hiss at him. "You almost made me fall!”

He lets go of my ankle and then gestures at the open expanse below us. "There is no more rope. There is nowhere else to go."

"What?" Horrified, I try to peer around him. I don't see any more rope dangling below him, and so I study the ground. Or I try to. It's still a huge drop away. Thirty feet, maybe. Fifty? Does it matter? I can't do that and survive. "Oh my god. We've got to go back." A sob forms in my throat. I'm not sure I can go back. I press my face against the straining rope knots. This is an utter nightmare.

"We cannot go back," Aron calls up to me. "Look at the troops. They are almost upon us. If they see our rope, they will fling their trebuchet at us, thinking we are with Tadekha and her minions."

I force myself to lift my head and scan the horizon. It's not hard to do, because with Aron and me both at the bottom of the damn thing, we're swinging and swaying in the breeze like a true pendulum, and the rope just keeps twisting and spinning us around. It eventually spins in the direction of the soldiers, and sure enough, what was a faint maybe sort of line before is much, much closer. I can now see lines of troops and big wooden machines that must be the trebuchets.

I hate that he's right. I hate that we have to get out of here, and fast. But there's nowhere to go. Frantically, I look around. "Is there an outcropping nearby? Have we drifted close enough—”

"No time." Aron grabs my ankle again. "Slide down farther and hold onto me."

"What? NO!" Is he insane? He's insane.

"Do as I say," he barks up at me, and I resist the urge to kick his face. His hand tightens on my ankle and then he's pulling on me, the asshole. "Move farther down—”

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Let go, Faith—"

"No!" The rope twists, swaying, and Aron tugs harder on my ankle. Oh fuck, now he's climbing up the rope, and his big body is covering mine. "Stop it," I cry out, wanting to slap at him, but I don't have a free hand to do so. "Fuck off! We can't—"

"Let go," he says again, and his voice is in my ear, the heat and electricity of his big body against my back.

I don't let go.

I don't have to, because in the next moment, the rope snaps somewhere above and all the tension disappears from my hands, and then we're falling, and falling…

I smack into the ground with enough force that the air slams out of my lungs. Everything hurts and throbs with pain, and I lie completely still for a moment, stunned.

It takes me a moment to realize that I'm not dead.

It takes a longer moment to realize that I didn't land, belly-down, onto the dirt. I landed on top of Aron.