XIXFinn's arm jerked sharply, wrenching his shoulder almost out of its socket. For a moment he couldn't understand what was happening. He swung there in the air, hanging by his arm, lights from the ground lurching around beneath him.
Metal bit into his wrist. The ironclad's grapple. It must have caught in the railings or the mesh of the walkway as he fell. He dangled there, his arm already tingling and numb. He thought about how slight the teeth of the grapple were. About the thinness of the chain that was stopping him plummeting to the distant ground.
Up above him, he could just see the shape of the ironclad against the orange glow of the night-sky, next to the telescope. He thought about calling out. But the ironclad wasn't going to just haul him up. His only hope was to stay very stil
