skin. He slid further downslope, cutting a rent three paces long in the skin; then he got his free hand into the tear and stopped sliding.
Wash from the rotors pushed at him as the rotorkite banked away. Noriko must have begun the maneuver as soon as she understood Gaby’s statement. But it was too late. He was within striking distance of Duncan at long last.
As Harris got his hands on the lip of the bomb bay, his strength failed him. He hung there, legs wrapped around the trailing rope, and waited for his energy to come back.
It didn’t.
He cursed. He’d just have to do the job without it.
Then Darig MacDuncan, the Changeling, stepped into view above and kicked him full in the head.
Sudden, shocking pain in his temple—Harris’ right hand slipped and he rotated a half-turn, gripping the lip of the bomb bay floor with only his left. He frantically grabbed the rope with his right.
Just in time. Darig, smiling, stepped on the fingers of his left hand. The pain cost him his grip.
The sudden adrenaline was what he needed. He hauled on the rope for all he was worth, popped up over the lip of the floor, and grabbed Darig’s ankle. He yanked. The Changeling fell, scrambling frantically as his legs stretched out over more than a thousand feet of air.
Harris grabbed the Changeling’s belt and hauled. The Changeling, teeth bared, grabbed the sturdy base of a winch and didn’t budge, so Harris used him for purchase. He pulled himself up atop the blond man and onto the metal floor beyond.
He put his back to the wall of this small metal cabin, next to a doorway hatch. “Give up, Darig.” His words came out in gasps as he struggled to gain control of his breath. “Or I’ll kick the hell out of you and you’ll end up a big red smear on a Neckerdam street.”
The Changeling glared. “I am not afraid of death, bug. But I will make it worth something.” He grabbed Harris’ leg and pushed off, rolling out through the hole.
Harris frantically gripped the lip of the hatch beside him. The Changeling’s weight yanked at him, threatened to tear him free; the impact stretched him taut. Another second and he’d slide out the hole, paired with Darig in a skydive to death.
With his free leg, he kicked Darig. He felt the kick land . . . and suddenly there was no more weight on his leg. Harris lay
Wash from the rotors pushed at him as the rotorkite banked away. Noriko must have begun the maneuver as soon as she understood Gaby’s statement. But it was too late. He was within striking distance of Duncan at long last.
As Harris got his hands on the lip of the bomb bay, his strength failed him. He hung there, legs wrapped around the trailing rope, and waited for his energy to come back.
It didn’t.
He cursed. He’d just have to do the job without it.
Then Darig MacDuncan, the Changeling, stepped into view above and kicked him full in the head.
Sudden, shocking pain in his temple—Harris’ right hand slipped and he rotated a half-turn, gripping the lip of the bomb bay floor with only his left. He frantically grabbed the rope with his right.
Just in time. Darig, smiling, stepped on the fingers of his left hand. The pain cost him his grip.
The sudden adrenaline was what he needed. He hauled on the rope for all he was worth, popped up over the lip of the floor, and grabbed Darig’s ankle. He yanked. The Changeling fell, scrambling frantically as his legs stretched out over more than a thousand feet of air.
Harris grabbed the Changeling’s belt and hauled. The Changeling, teeth bared, grabbed the sturdy base of a winch and didn’t budge, so Harris used him for purchase. He pulled himself up atop the blond man and onto the metal floor beyond.
He put his back to the wall of this small metal cabin, next to a doorway hatch. “Give up, Darig.” His words came out in gasps as he struggled to gain control of his breath. “Or I’ll kick the hell out of you and you’ll end up a big red smear on a Neckerdam street.”
The Changeling glared. “I am not afraid of death, bug. But I will make it worth something.” He grabbed Harris’ leg and pushed off, rolling out through the hole.
Harris frantically gripped the lip of the hatch beside him. The Changeling’s weight yanked at him, threatened to tear him free; the impact stretched him taut. Another second and he’d slide out the hole, paired with Darig in a skydive to death.
With his free leg, he kicked Darig. He felt the kick land . . . and suddenly there was no more weight on his leg. Harris lay