"Run."

My leg twists painfully beneath me as I struggle to my feet. I manage to limp a few steps along the sandy ground before my knee gives out and I fall heavily against the side of a brick building.

I can feel the heat of the fire at my back. The sound of crackling flames intermingles with the shouts of my neighbours as they flood into the street. The guards will be among them, their swords still sticky with blood.

I need to get out of here.

My breaths are ragged, my sobs barely contained as I push myself bodily onwards. My vision blurs intermittently and I run a shaky hand across my eyes in any effort to dry them. My father's dagger is still clenched tightly in my fist, reflecting the light of the full moon as I dart from alleyway to alleyway, following the route I walked countless times with my brother.

Never again.

There is the heavy tread of booted feet and I duck instinctively into the nearest gap between buildings, grinding my teeth against my ruined knee's protests. I screw my eyes shut, holding my breath as the footsteps draw closer, rounding the corner and entering my alleyway.

I press my body against the cool, unforgiving stone, not bothering to offer up a prayer to the gods as the Palace guard makes his way through the shadowed passage. It is too late for anyone to help me this night. I've already lost everything worth having.

He's so close now that I can hear his breathing, low and grating, sending shivers down my spine and causing me to grasp the dagger more securely, the hilt too large and heavy in my small hand. No matter. If I had to, I would slit his throat right here on this filthy street and let him bleed out, alone and abandoned. My heart holds no remorse for this man.

An eternity stretches into an infinity and he finally passes me by, his shuffling steps retreating around the corner of the building. I wait another endless minute, mindful of the fact that my hurt leg ruins any attempt at stealth.

I slip back into the alley and adjust my route, sticking to the shadows, my ears perked to the sounds of the guards as I weave between the tightly-packed buildings. Finally, a familiar cracked, wooden door appears in front of me, the first welcoming sight I've seen tonight.

Sharp splinters pierce my palm as I slam my hand repeatedly against the door, the desperation I've been frantically trying to keep at bay finally making itself known. My heart hammers in my chest in tune with the knocks, ricocheting through my scrawny frame and rattling my teeth.

From somewhere in the distance I can hear the men's shouts. I glance over my shoulder, my heart turning over again at the eerie orange glow illuminating the midnight buildings. A plume of blackened smoke rises into the sky, blocking out the stars and coating the Commons in a heavy shroud.

The voices of the guards grow louder as they change course, heading straight for me. I turn back to the door, pounding more furiously against it with the hilt of the dagger.

"Who's there?" Her impatient voice is suddenly the most blessed thing I have ever heard.

"It's me. It's Kay. Please, let me in." My voice comes out choked, barely coherent.

"Kay?" There is the sound of a lock being turned and the door swings open. I fall against it, stumbling into the warm entryway as my leg finally gives out. Familiar arms wrap themselves around my shoulders, holding me tightly as she locks the door firmly, securing us inside.

My body suddenly feels incredibly heavy. I sink to the ground, supported by those same strong arms as we fall back against the door, leaning heavily into one another. I can feel her heart beating furiously through her apron. She smells of saffron and henna, leftover from her day spent working in the dye mill.

The earth below us trembles as the guards run past, the reverberation from their heavily-booted feet rattling the door on its hinges.

She waits until the sounds recede before pulling back, cupping my cheeks in her cool hands and forcing my eyes into hers. "What's happened?"

I swallow, choking again as I release my father's dagger, flinching as the steel collides with the wooden floor. Her eyes flick down, widening at the sight of the blood-stained weapon.

"Kay?" Her voice is barely a whisper. "Kay, what is it? Where are your parents?"

"Dead." I respond hollowly. "They killed them."

A strange, strained sound escapes her lips. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind I am aware of her fingers digging into my arm, demanding my attention, forcibly coaxing me back from the dark, empty abyss.

"They can't....no, they can't be." She clenches my arm tighter and I reluctantly raise my head. "Kay, talk to me."

I can't bring myself to say another word. I open my mouth, then shut it again, my chest caving in on itself as Lara's face blurs in front of me. I offer no resistance when she draws me in to her chest, releasing everything I have into her heavy apron as we rock back and forth, arms wrapped around one another.

The agony is unlike anything else. The scene plays itself over and over again in my mind's eye, terrifyingly vivid, ingraining itself in my memory for all eternity. My mother's lifeless body, face-down on the ground in a pool of blood. My father mouthing the word "Run" as the sword is pulled across his neck.

Slowly I become aware that Lara's sobs have turned into gentle shushes. She cups my head against her shoulder, pushing the strands of hair away from my face, murmuring quiet words into the mass of soot-coated curls.

"It's all right. You're all right." She whispers. "I'm going to look after you."

The wound in my heart tears anew. I squeeze my eyes shut against the pain, wincing at the colour red coating my eyeballs. All I can see is the ever-expanding puddle of blood working it's way across the floorboards of our apartment, creeping towards my bare feet.

She breathes a kiss across my clammy forehead and I coax my eyes open, gradually focusing on the dimly-lit room and her dye-splattered clothing.

"I can't keep going." My voice is small, far-removed from the trademark loud-mouthed bragging my father so often teased me about. "First Frye, now Mum and Dad. I don't have anything left."

"You have me." Lara says firmly. "We have each other, and this is your home now."

"I cut one of them." My gaze darts down towards the discarded dagger. "They'll be looking for me."

"You don't have to worry about that. I'm going to protect you." She draws back so that she is looking at me fully. Her blue eyes are rimmed with red and her cheeks are blotchy. "They won't be able to touch us."

"They took everyone from me." I say, hoarsely.

She shakes her head, her sharp chin set resolutely. "We will be each other's family."

A hand comes down suddenly on my shoulder, shaking me roughly. I lash out, registering a cry of pain as my eyes fly open and I attempt to roll away, slamming into the wall.

I glance around wildly, my dagger clenched in my fist as I fight to make sense of my surroundings. I fully expect to find the room filled with guards, Lieutenant Griss at their head with his sharpened sword leveled towards my neck but I see only Lara, her eyes wide with fright.

"It's only me." She says, rising cautiously to her feet. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you but you were crying out and wouldn't wake up..."

I rub my eyes forcefully, waiting for my heartbeat to slow as bit by bit I piece everything together. Just another nightmare. How unfortunate that I should wake from it and find myself in no better of a situation.

"Are you all right?" She appears concerned but I'm not fooled.

"I'm fine." I snap, turning away so that I can wipe my cheeks without her seeing. Bloody nightmares. "What time is it?"

She waits a beat before answering. "It's early yet, but the curfew has been lifted for the day."

"Good. We can go." I place my dagger on the window ledge and roll my shoulders back, willing away the nightmare's lingering effects. "How are you going to get me beneath Babel?"

"You've always been irritatingly lively first thing in the morning." She releases a small sigh, rubbing her arm as she inspects it for any bruising. I feel a twinge of guilt for striking her, biting my lip in an effort to focus my thoughts.

Today is the day I find Will. I am well-rested (relatively), I have a home base and an ally (brothel and a traitor). If that doesn't strike fear into the heart of the Madam, then nothing will.

"I don't like to waste time." I say with as much patience as I can muster. "I have work to do. I'm not in Babel just for the company."

"Yes, you've made that perfectly clear." She shakes her head slightly before making her way over to her clothing trunk. "Today you will be joining me in my courtesan duties."

"Pass. What other ideas do you have?"

She shoots me a look before kneeling down to open up the trunk and rifling through its contents. "There is more to being a courtesan than sleeping with men. We are also needed to deliver meals to the on-duty Enforcers."

"Truly, you are multi-faceted." I scowl and shake my head at the dress she holds up for me to inspect. "Come on now, Lara, you know me better than that. Pants, please."

She rolls her eyes, returning the dress to the trunk. "I'm afraid the pickings are a bit slim."

"Whatever you have is fine." I urge her along. "And a long-sleeved shirt."

I can hear her grumbling under her breath but she emerges victorious, holding up two articles of clothing in pale green and bright indigo. She chooses a vibrant pink sheath for herself and disappears around the divider, a moment later tossing her chemise over the top of it.

I dress quickly, once again keeping my back turned to the wall. The top stops short of my midriff, pulling tight across my modest breasts and pushing up what little I have. In contrast the pants are loose and billowing, giving me ample amounts of freedom.

Lara emerges from around the dividing screen and motions for me to sit at the vanity. I sink down into the chair without complaint, deliberately averting my eyes from my own reflection as her practiced fingers pull my hair free of the knotted Waster braids.

"Gods, you have the entirety of the Wastelands caked into this mess." She pulls the last snare free and shakes my hair out, causing a shower of sand to sprinkle down over the floor.

I nearly catch myself smirking. "I can't be held responsible for what my hair picks up. It has a mind of its own."

"I remember." She deftly separates my locks into sections. "I have always been envious of your hair, you know. I used to imagine that one day I would have a daughter with beautiful red locks like yours."

I don't have a response to that.

She finishes plaiting my hair, pulling loose a few stray tendrils to frame my face before reaching for her pots of makeup. I wave off her attempt to rouge my lips but allow her to draw a thin line of kohl around my eyes, abhorring the feminine sweep she adds to my lash, missing the fearsome Waster warpaint acutely.

Once Lara is made up similarly we make our way downstairs. The fire in the hearth has burnt down to cinders and the beautiful, friendly girls from the night before are long gone. The bright morning sunlight paints the room harshly, illuminating the second-hand furniture and patched walls. The imposing guardswoman is also gone. I breathe an internal sigh of relief, unsure of how we would have explained my presence. Lara grabs a couple of apples from a table near the door, handing one to me as we slip through the entryway and enter the packed streets.

The crowd swells around us, pushing and pulling from all directions as we make our way across narrow bridges and through tight alleyways. More than once I catch myself glancing about in awe at my surroundings, continually amazed at the sheer height of the buildings and the multitude of water and vegetation. Under the full light of the morning sun everything appears unnatural, the various shades of green startling to my eyes.

The oblivious people around us carry on much the same as they do in the City and the Waster camps. Welcoming shouts are passed back and forth between friends. Mothers tug their children by the hand, drawing the little ones away from the colourful shop windows. Everyone is dressed impeccably in layers of colourful fabric. Clearly, no one is wanting in this utopian society of abundant food and water.

As we walk I find myself wondering how much these people know about where their resources come from, or about the world outside of this dome, for that matter. Is this blissful ignorance I am seeing, or an entire population that is perfectly fine with the use of slave labour?

I'm not sure which scenario would be harder to contend with.

I recognize the direction we are headed as taking us closer to the centre of city. Both the glass tube that comprises the lift and the swirling brickwork of the Madam's tower make for excellent landmarks, steadily coaxing us into Babel's denser folds.

The front gates of the great tower come into view and I become aware of the Madam's cool, scratchy voice broadcasting through the funnels. Unlike last night's announcements, however, people haven't stopped whatever they're doing in order to listen. I furrow my brow, straining to make out what's being said. The pitches and lulls in her tone gradually fall into a pattern and I realize that the same words are being repeated over and over.

"It's a recording." Lara speaks close to my ear, reading my thoughts. "The morning announcements are played back at regular intervals throughout the day. They're a lot less formal than the evening show."

"How is this done?" I look back and forth between the funnels and the tower's abandoned balcony.

"Radio." She says simply. "Babel is miles ahead of the City in terms of technology. The Madam is said to possess the world's most complete library. She studies schematics of pre-Burn mechanics and employs Babel's best and brightest to rebuild what once was."

A lump forms in my throat and I swallow bodily. I have never before felt so out of my depth.

"Did you notice the steel towers scattered outside of the dome?" Lara's question jolts me back to the present.

I nod. "What are they?"

"Radio towers. The airship Enforcers use them to speak to one another and with Babel. They can project soundwaves through the air, can you believe it?" She is shaking her head, her brassy hair glinting gold in the sunlight. "They can communicate while miles apart. It's otherworldly."

"How do you know so much about this?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "Enforcers like to talk. I like to listen. It's a good arrangement when you're paid hourly."

My head snaps towards her. She chuckles, nudging me with her elbow. "A joke, Kay. Remember those?"

I pull my mouth into a tight line, sealing my lips shut as we round the side of the Madam's tower. I tilt my head towards the speakers in the yard, catching snippets of talk about "Four casts." I am just wondering what a cast is when Lara halts our progress, pulling up in front of a low, white bricked building. The double set of doors and the windows are thrown open wide, releasing a mouth-watering aroma of baked bread and a cacophony of exotic spices. I ignore the growling in my stomach as we step into the brightly lit room, being careful to stick close to Lara.

She smoothly shoulders her way through the expansive kitchen, pausing momentarily to grab two round trays, handing one to me without ceremony.

"Load it up." She instructs, gesturing towards the display at the centre of the room.

A low, wooden table is set with a meal that could rival the Palace's finest spread. Meat, fruits and vegetables, some I've never seen before spill over the rims of their bowls and plates. I follow Lara's example, piling my tray high with a selection of the food, balancing the rim of the tray on top of my shoulder.

We attach flasks of water to our hips and turn to sidle back through the crowd of kitchen workers, eventually emerging back in the sunlit streets. Lara maneuvers with a great deal more grace than I do, easily dodging all manner of people without wobbling the tray of food. I stumble repeatedly, continually righting the piles of meat and fruit as I struggle to copy her movements.

A few short turns later and we arrive at the expansive, temple-like structure that houses the glass lift. Green leaves brush against us from where they hang overhead and our feet tap lightly on the smooth stone floor. The pagoda is all but abandoned, with only a few stray people milling about and taking advantage of the shaded greenspace.

The iron gate of the lift slides open and we stand back to allow a group of Enforcers to disembark. I keep my eyes averted as the men stream past us, ignoring the way their greedy eyes rove over our bodies.

"Good morning, ladies." A hulking mass of unwelcome brawn leans up against the entrance to the lift, purposefully blocking our way with meaty arms crossed against his chest. "Are you going down?"

There is a rumble of laughter from his mates and I roll my eyes. Soldier humour is nothing if not predictable.

Lara smiles prettily, shifting the heavy tray to her opposite shoulder. "We will be taking the lift down, yes. There are some hungry men below who will be wanting their lunch."

"Some men up here will be wanting their lunch as well." The Enforcer straightens, quirking an eyebrow. "Why don't you spare us a moment?"

A shudder runs down my spine. I do a quick assessment of the situation, registering three men behind us and one oversized cowpile in front. My dagger is back in Lara's flat, too bulky to conceal beneath this flimsy courtesan garb. My eyes dart down to the shiny, curved blade at the Enforcer's side.

"I'm afraid we are running late as it is." Lara says lightly. "Perhaps another time."

"Did you think that was a request, breeder?" The Enforcer takes a step forward and I prepare my stance.

"Listen, I'll give you all the time you need once curfew has passed." I catch the barely-discernable tremor in Lara's voice when she speaks. "Come find me then and I'll make it worth your while."

I bide my time, waiting patiently for him to move between Lara and myself, the fingers of my free hand twitching.

"How about you make it worth my while right now, and I'll let your red-headed friend take care of me later." His moves to grab her around the waist and Lara jumps back.

Perfect. In the next instant I have unsheathed his sword, swinging it around in my hand and bringing it up and through his belt.

"What the-" The lout reacts slowly. Shameful, really. He whips around, much too late to keep his trousers from pooling around his ankles and revealing an embarrassingly vile choice of undergarments.

Lara darts into the lift and I follow, tossing the Enforcer's sword back so that it is just out of reach, not bothering to hide my smirk as he makes a lunge for it, forgetting that his trousers are still wrapped around his ankles.

The gate is slammed closed and Lara hits the brass button for the next-lowest floor, the deafening sound of the other Enforcer's laughter ringing in our ears in the enclosed space. The floor begins to descend and I catch one last glimpse of the gigantic twit's reddened face, spouting curses at us while Lara waggles her fingers, giggling.

It is momentarily dark as we descend below the ground. The sounds from above are at once extinguished, leaving only Lara's lingering laughter. I wipe the grin from my face, immediately sobering as her laughter trails off. The total lack of light makes it difficult to gauge the distance we are travelling, so I am forced to make a guess as to how far underground the first floor is. The prolonged silence suggests that the tunnels begin a lot further down than a single storey of a building would be.

Finally, we pull to a shaky stop and a low, flickering light brings our surroundings back into focus. Lara's sharp profile is bathed in an orange glow, making her skin appear sallow, sickly. She pulls the gate open and we step out. Almost immediately, the lift is recalled and slides away, leaving us alone in an abandoned passageway.

There is a distinctive damp chill to the air. I curse my impractical outfit, feeling goosebumps rise on my exposed flesh. We are standing in front of a long corridor, surrounded on all sides by slick, black stone. I am reminded acutely of the claustrophobic tunnels below the Palace but for once I don't feel the familiar flutter of anxiety. The idea of being so close to knowing what we are up against overpowers everything else. In a matter of minutes, the full scale of the Madam's secret will become unquestionably apparent.

"All right, let's get a few things sorted." Lara places her tray on the ground and reaches over to adjust the scattered items on mine. "We shouldn't be lingering down here for any longer than is necessary. This corridor will lead us straight to the drilling chamber. The forecast is calling for rain, so we'll want to be out of here by noon."

"What do casts have to do with rain?" I ask, falling into step next to her. "And why four of them?"

The corner of her mouth twitches. "Forecast. Its a word they use to explain the weather schedule."

I shake my head, rattling the bowls of food stacked on my shoulder. "Rain on command. This place is madness."

"You don't know the half of it." She murmurs. We lapse into silence, each adrift in our own thoughts. My eyes drift upwards, squinting through the gloom to make out the odd shapes set up against the ceiling.

"What are those?" I gesture to the length of grey tubing running over our heads.

She glances up. "Water pipes. They carry water from the drill into the city. They run throughout these tunnels and up into the walls of the dome."

I listen carefully, straining to make out the sound of water running through the metal pipes. Sure enough there is a gentle whisper, a kind of ghostly companion accompanying us through this corridor.

A gentle light and a low hum beckon us from the far end of the tunnel, both increasing in intensity as we gradually make our way closer. The load on my shoulder is suddenly incredibly heavy and I have to grit my teeth against the sensation, mentally preparing myself for whatever may be ahead.

It is an eternity of the same but finally the corridor widens, yawning into a curved archway. The water pipes overhead continue on, unencumbered, connecting with a colossal metal tube standing straight up ahead of us.

"That's the Irrigator." Lara mutters under her breath.

"What-" I sputter, scarcely believing my eyes. "What is this place?"

Her dark blue eyes meet mine, her expression defeated. "It's hell."