The Towering Sky
The final book in Katharine McGee's epic The Thousandth Floor series.It's New York City, 2118.In Manhattan’s glamorous thousand-story supertower, millions of people are living scandalous lives. Leda, Watt, Rylin, Avery, and Calliope are all struggling to hide the biggest secrets of all, secrets that could destroy everything, and send their perfect worlds toppling over the edge.Because every rise has a fall.With all the drama, romance and hidden secrets from The Thousandth Floor and The Dazzling Heights, this explosive finale will not disappoint.
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First published in the USA by HarperCollins Publishers Inc. in 2018
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Childrenâs Books in 2018
Published in this ebook edition in 2018
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Copyright © Alloy Entertainment and Katharine McGee 2018
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018
Cover images © Fancy/Veer/Corbis/GettyImages (fashion model red dress); Shutterstock (all other images)
Katharine McGee asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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Source ISBN: 9780008179915
Ebook Edition © September 2018 ISBN: 9780008179908
Version: 2018-08-20
For Deedo, and in loving memory of Snake
CONTENTS
December 2119
THERE HAS ALWAYS been something otherworldly about the first snow of the year in New York.
It gilds the cityâs flaws, its hard edges, transforming Manhattan into a proud, glittering northern place. Magic hangs heavy in the air. On the morning of the first snow, even the most jaded New Yorkers pause in the streets to look up at the sky, stilled by a quiet sense of awe. As if every hot summer they forgot that this was possible, and only when the first flakes of snow kiss their faces can they believe in it again.
It seems almost that the snowfall might wash the city clean, reveal all the monstrous secrets buried beneath its surface.
But then, some secrets are best kept buried.
It was on one of these mornings of cold, enchanted silence that a girl stood on the roof of Manhattanâs enormous skyscraper.
She stepped closer to the edge, and the wind whipped at her hair. Snowflakes danced around her in splintered crystals. Her skin glowed like an overexposed hologram in the predawn light. If anyone had been up there to see her, they would have said that she looked troubled, and sharply beautiful. And afraid.
She hadnât been on the roof in over a year, yet it looked the same as ever. Photovoltaic panels huddled on its surface, waiting to drink in the sun and convert it to usable power. An enormous steel spire twisted up to collide with the sky. And below her hummed an entire cityâa thousand-story tower, teeming with millions of people.
Some of them she had loved, some of them she had resented. Many she had never known at all. Yet in their own ways they had betrayed her, every last one of them. They had made her life unbearable by depriving her of the one person she had ever loved.
The girl knew sheâd been up here too long. She was starting to feel the familiar slippery light-headedness as her body slowed down, struggling to adjust to the decreased oxygen, to pull resources in toward her core. She curled her toes. They were numb. The air downstairs was oxygenated and infused with vitamins, but here on the roof it felt whip-thin.
She hoped they would forgive her for what she was about to do. But she didnât have a choice. It was either this, or go on leading a shriveled, starved, half life: a life deprived of the only person who made it worth living. She felt a pang of guilt, but even stronger was her profound sense of relief, that at leastâat lastâit would soon be over.
The girl reached up to wipe at her eyes, as if the wind had stung them to tears.
âIâm sorry,â she said, though there was no one around to hear. Who was she talking to, anyway? Maybe the city below her or the entire world or her own quiet conscience.
And what did it matter? New York would go on with or without her, the same as ever, just as loud and electric and raucous and bright. New York didnât care that those were the last words Avery Fuller ever spoke.
Three months earlier
AVERY DRUMMED HER fingers restlessly on the armrest of her familyâs chopper. She felt her boyfriendâs gaze on her and glanced up. âWhy are you looking at me like that?â she asked, teasing.
âLike what? Like I want to kiss you?â Max answered his own question by leaning over to drop a kiss on her lips. âYou may not realize it, Avery, but I always want to kiss you.â
