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CHAPTER
ONE

ate knew better than to slow down on the elevated rail,
N but he dropped to a crouch anyway. His stomach growled
at the sound of fluttering wings. Picking up a sharp piece of
broken pavement, he scanned the air to take aim.
A hoarse laugh escaped him. “Those aren’t gulls.”
Ribbons of fabric snapped in the smog-choked wind from
laundry lines strung between corroded water towers. Staring
at the frayed edge of a sheet stained with exhaust, he dropped
the rock and absently rubbed the callus on his pointer finger.
It’s not like he would have managed to hit the bird.
His hands ached.
So did his feet from keeping a brisk pace to dodge Gathos
City commuter trains that never slowed down as they passed
over the Withers.
Below, someone was shouting about spoiled sludge-rat
broth. The ugly thuds and cries of a scuffle broke out. Nate
spared a glance over the edge of the rail before a swoop of
vertigo struck him. He pushed gritty hair behind his ears. High

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