Ring. Sister. Piano (Book 4 of The Powder Trail)

Chapter Twenty Three: Desert Rain

***Warning for sexual content in this chapter. Totally consensual and hopefully romantic, but just thought I'd better give everyone a heads up!***

Jack dived for her hand and missed, dived for her ankle, went skidding down the slope of the roof in an avalanche of snow and moss, and felt a twang of agony across his shoulders as he grabbed the guttering with one arm and took Ellini's weight with the other.

"What the hell did you do that for?" she shouted. Her breath was steaming on the air, coming up in clouds, as if she was hanging above a boiling cauldron.

"I slipped-"

"You did not slip!"

"Mouse, this isn't the time-"

He braced his legs against the guttering and tried to get a better grip with the hand that wasn't holding her. He burrowed his fingers under one of the slates, but it came loose, and the world lurched horribly for a moment. He had a glimpse of Ellini's bare toes dangling over fifty feet of night, and then he lay absolutely still against the gutter until the world stopped churning.

Something was slicing into his arm – the one she was hanging from – but it would have had to be in danger of sawing straight through before he'd consider moving it now. His stomach was screwed up into a tight little ball. He remembered the feeling he'd had at Pandemonium, when she had fallen asleep with one skinny ankle dangling off the edge of the roof. He was not afraid of heights; he was afraid of Ellini and heights. They were fine separately, but together they made his head swim.

He could feel Ellini swaying on the end of his arm, panting with the effort of holding on. 

"Can you lower me down a bit?" she gasped. "I can nearly reach a window-ledge."

Jack knew, without looking, that it was the crumbling ledge of the Oriental Reading Room. He knew there were ornamental figures underneath it that had had their faces eaten away by damp. He wouldn't have trusted them to hold up a pigeon, but there was literally nowhere else to go. After that ledge, it was a sheer drop – devoid of handholds or conveniently-placed shop awnings – all the way to the ground. Besides, the gutter was being prised away from the wall by his weight. If he could just set her down before he fell...

Good God, why had they gone climbing somewhere so high? Why had he wobbled? And why had she stopped him?

He braced his knees against the gutter and groped with his free hand for something stable to grip. The slates were slippery with ice, but one of them hadn't been hammered in properly, and there was a nail sticking out by about two inches. If it took his weight, it would only do so by slicing into him, but that was a small matter now. He gritted his teeth, leaned on the nail, and started to lower her down.

Her feet found the ledge at about the same time the guttering gave way. He just saw her touch down before a metallic screech cut through everything, and the world lurched again. His nail held – although, now that it was the only thing holding his weight, it was slicing into his palm. He could feel the blood seeping down his wrist, making his sleeve wet. 

Ellini was trying to catch hold of his legs, which at least meant she hadn't been scythed off her ledge by the tumbling gutter. But she would never be able to support his weight. Somehow, he would have to climb down to her, and risk the collapse of that mouldering ledge.

It was no mean feat to let go of the nail – it had nestled deep into his flesh and didn't want to let him go – but Ellini pulled him and steadied him until he was on the ledge beside her.