Page 194 of Stormbreaker

I nod. “Okay,” I say. I’m with him for now, at least until we can hide.

“Stop them!” someone shouts. I look over to see one of the Guards backing up. A ping from a stunner blazes past us, barely missing my arm.

Rook reaches out and takes my hand.

I look over at him as the wind tosses his hair.

He’s so beautiful it makes my throat ache.

“Count of three?” he asks.

I nod. What choice do I have?

“One, two, three.”

Then we’re running for the edge. We leap, and then we’re falling.

The descent catches my skirt so that it billows around me in ripples of purple and white. It tugs at my hair as my stomach lifts into my throat. We tip, turning face-first as the ground races up toward us.

My fingers slip from Rook’s as we near the net, and then . . .

SLAM.

I land with a bounce, then fly up, my legs and arms kicking on the rebound.

After another few bounces, I come to a stop.

“Poet!” Rook shouts. “Get off!”

He’s already on the ground with a knife in his hand, sawing at one corner of the rope. I scramble off, my dress tangling around me as I land beside him and retrieve the knife from my boot.

If I squint, I can just make out two figures standing on the roof.

They jump, plummeting toward us.

“Faster!” Rook says, sawing harder.

The Guards tumble as we slice through the rope. Seconds feel like hours, and they’re nearly at the bottom when the strands give, splitting apart and dropping one side of the net.

The Guards must notice because they start screaming.

Rook takes my hand and wrenches me away.

“Don’t watch,” he orders, and then we’re running. A second later, I hear the thuds, the gruesome splats. A telltale crack and a slap of the Guards hitting the pavement. I heave and will myself not to throw up.

More scarlet streaks flash across the sky as we skirt the edges of the buildings and arrive at the plaza between the Citadel and Amery. The entire space is engulfed in flames, while dozens of Patrols try to put them out.

We hide around a corner and peer out.

“They’re distracted,” Rook says. He turns to me and cups my shoulders. “I need you to pack a bag.”

“What?”

“We’re leaving.”

I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Poet, The Shield knows about you. They’ll find you, and they’ll do unspeakable things to keep you quiet.”