They’ve killed her.

  We’ve failed, and Talin’s mother has paid the price.

  And just as I think this, just as I stagger to the cell door, just as I look in, fearing what I’ll see, that I’ll witness a familiar woman lying dead on the floor, gunshot wound to her heart—

  I look in and see a woman still breathing, lying exhausted with her head against the wall.

  I’d hit the soldier right as he fired. He hadn’t managed a good shot. Talin’s mother is alive. I find myself staring into a face that Talin inherited—that fierce gaze, the proud tilt of her chin, a mixture of both fearlessness and vulnerability. It is the face that birthed the one I love.

  What have they done to her? Her face is black and blue, and her left eye is swollen shut. One of her hands is bandaged, the cloth bloody, and her arm is slung in a cast as if it had been badly broken.

  In an instant, I know this is what had caused Talin so much agony hours earlier. She had known what they’d done to her mother. I’m glad that Talin isn’t here to see her like this. My breath escapes in a rush as I hurry to her side.

  Even though she is injured, that fire hasn’t died. At the sight of me, her mouth crooks up in a slight smile. The light of recognition flickers in her eyes.

  “You,” she croaks out in Maran, then frowns. “You haven’t been eating well.”

  She’d just gone through torture, but the first thing out of her is concern that I’m not eating enough.

  I can’t help smiling at her, in spite of everything. “I hope I get another of your meals, ma’am,” I tell her. “Let’s go.”

  “Your language has improved a little,” she manages to say as I fold my wings away and hoist her onto my back. She lets out a groan of pain as she gingerly adjusts her cast against me.

  As I head out, other guards catch up to us. I grit my teeth and lunge at the first one, knocking him in the head with my own. He stumbles back, losing his grip on his gun. I seize it from him and fire a shot back. It hits him hard in the shoulder, a huge, heavy bullet that does enough damage to leave him collapsed and screaming. This is the kind of weapon they were going to use on Talin’s mother?

  Another swings a blade at us—I duck low, then encircle Talin’s mother with my arms and shield her with my body. We run down the steps.

  An alarm is blaring somewhere, a horn that makes my head ring. I recognize the sound—I’d participated in drills for this when I was still a young soldier. It means all hands on deck. It means we are about to be surrounded by soldiers. Surely the word is being passed down in some urgent line somewhere—before long, Constantine will know that we struck the prison district. This will no longer be a secret. But if we can make it out, it won’t matter. Because we’ll have Talin’s mother, and Talin will be freed.

  As I bolt down the stairs, voices echo from above the stairwell and below.

  More and more soldiers are appearing. I hurtle into them at the bottom of the staircase, my body curling protectively around the woman in my arms as I extend my wings as far as they can go, striking out, slashing anyone in my way. The anger in me courses through my veins like fire.

  Constantine will tear through families, over and over and over again, destroy our lives and loved ones all as part of his strategy to win. He will do it until the day he dies, unless we can stop him.

  I turn my glowing eyes on a terrified soldier. So help me, I will get Talin’s mother out of here alive. Let this be the last time Constantine triumphs over our lives.

  Another soldier manages to get close, his eyes focused on the precious prisoner in my arms, and stabs out with a dagger. I duck into a ball. The dagger slashes open the top of my shoulder near my neck. I growl at the sting of it before lashing out with my wing at him. A scream. Blood.

  I hurtle through the bottom floor of the prison. The commotion has stirred up the other prisoners held here, and I hear their desperate pleas as I rush through the guards. Their hands reach out toward me, begging for someone to hear them. I catch glimpses of those injured, with their bandaged arms and faces, some scalded from working in the prison factories, others scarred or missing limbs from the dangerous work in the turbines. I force myself to look away, trying to stay out of reach from their outstretched arms as I cut and slash.

  Then there is a whirl of a uniform, followed by a blurred figure charging into the fray. I pause in my assault long enough to catch a glimpse of Aramin’s vicious face, his expression wild and alight with battle fury. He seizes a blade from one soldier and hurls it straight into another. His lips are twisted into a warlike smile.

  Ahead, I glimpse the front courtyard of the hospital. One look is all it takes for me to know that we can’t possibly make it out of the prison district with just the four of us fighting. Even with my help, I am still a broken Skyhunter, and there are too many soldiers crowding the front of the building. And soon, Constantine will get word of what’s happening here. Maybe he’s already sent more patrols our way.

  My gaze darts wildly around at the space, searching for a way we can still escape. In my arms, Talin’s mother gives me a sad smile.

  “I’m sorry, Redlen,” she says. “I’ve been the cause of so much pain.”

  I glare at her. “Don’t say it,” I snap. “We’re going to get you back to your daughter.”

  But even as I say it, I see Jeran standing against the wall on the other side of the hospital, facing a tight circle of soldiers all pointing their guns at him. Adena struggles toward me through the fray, cutting wildly at anyone who dares to come close until she stands in front of me, her back to me and Talin’s mother as we huddle against the wall of the hospital. She has her teeth bared, and her eyes are slits. She holds two guns out in front of her. Nearby, Aramin spots Jeran and shouts something desperate at him. The Firstblade then hurls himself at the closest soldiers as one of them fires a bullet that catches him in his forearm.

  I’m not going to make it.

  That’s when I see the giant storage shed ahead, one of the ones that we’d passed. The door to it is still ajar, but this time, I’m at an angle where I can see what’s inside.

  This one doesn’t contain the giant turbine gears that the others did.

  Instead, it contains the artifact that I’d seen loaded onto the train near Newage.

  Hadn’t those guards said they needed to move it somewhere where it couldn’t cause significant harm? Of course they would store it here, in the prison district. Of course they would allow prisoners to work on dismantling the object, let them absorb the dangers of working near that thing. No significant harm if it’s happening to these people.

  My gaze hitches on the exposed belly of the artifact.

  I make the decision in a split second.

  Everything seems to happen in slow motion. I put Talin’s mother down behind Adena. “Get down, as low as you can!” I shout to Adena. “And protect her at all costs!” Toward Aramin, I wave a hand at him, telling him to do the same. Jeran glances at me, meeting my eyes once.

  Then, without looking back, I take off at a run toward the storage shed.

  I feel the slash of blades against me as I go. I strike out with my wings. I don’t stop to think. I just shut my eyes and charge straight through the lines of soldiers until I near the shed. They’ve been dismantling the interior of the object, which is composed of hundreds of smaller cylinders. In its core, it emits a faint blue glow.

  If you are going to die in a final stance, take this out with you.

  So I skid to a halt and lift the gun I’d taken from a soldier. I aim it straight at the core of the object.

  As I approach, I see the remaining soldiers standing near it scatter in all directions.

  I fire, then turn and hurtle back to the others. My wings stretch out, ready to shield Adena and Talin’s mother where they stand. Nearby, Jeran sees my move and throws himself flat to the ground. “Aramin!” he screams out.

  The word is cut off by the blast that follows.

  The explosion rocks the ground.

  The heat of the flame is so hot that it looks white.

  I feel it scorch my back and throw me forward. My wings bend from the force of it, and I shriek in agony as the pain lances through my entire body. I hit the ground and tumble over and over again. The world spins all around me, a blur of orange and white and blue fire. I force myself back onto my feet, then throw my wings open as far as I can and shield the crouched figures of Adena and Talin’s mother.

  Rubble hits my back, tearing against my body. Everything blurs around me. The pain sears me, white-hot, and I think for sure that my back must be on fire. I squeeze my eyes shut and scream. I’m going to die.

  My ears ring. Sounds muffle.

  I don’t know how long it’s been. Time seems to stand still.

  I open my eyes a little. When I glimpse my wings, arched protectively over Adena and Talin’s mother, I see that the edges of my steel feathers have melted from the heat.

  It’s supposed to be impossible to melt this steel.

  For a horrifying moment, I think they’ve died.

  Then I see Talin’s mother stir, her eyes blinking up at me. Adena shifts against her, her arms still thrown protectively around the woman.

  We stare at one another, breathing heavily.

  “Are you all right?” I murmur to them both.

  Adena nods tentatively, then glances between my ruined feathers at the carnage behind me. I glance over my shoulder to see the shed completely destroyed, the artifact lying in fragments all around the district. The scattered, ruined little cylinders bring to mind the wood engraving I’d seen at the museum. The sides of the buildings nearest it are scorched. And as for the soldiers caught in the heat of that blast—

  —they aren’t just dead. They are charred to ash.

  The destruction stretches across the prison district and into the buildings and streets beyond, in a massive radius.

  Never, among all the weapons I’ve ever witnessed the Federation use, have I seen one that can cause this level of destruction with a single blow.

  Fire, as if sent from the sun.

  I search frantically for Aramin and Jeran. At first I can’t find them—but then I see Aramin stumble out from a crumbled pile of bricks near the side of the hospital, where one wall has partially collapsed. He is bloody, injured in a dozen places, but alive. At his side, wounded but still breathing, is Jeran. We are all burned, scalded by the explosion of this strange object. Maybe we are all injured even more than we know.

  I should be relieved, but all I feel is numb. All I see in my mind is the image of those bleeding workers. This is your fate, a creature of destruction. You will always find a way.

  But for now, I hurl myself forward. We are alive. We will live to fight another day. And we have Talin’s mother with us.

  I go to Adena and lift Talin’s mother into my arms, ignoring the agony of my own injuries. The others hurry beside me. No one says a word. We only know we have to get out of here before reinforcements arrive. Along with that is a singular, searing goal.

  Tell Talin about her mother. And see Talin burst free of her chains.

  As I think this, a few soldiers appear at the destroyed entrance to the prison gate.

  I feel exhaustion course through me at the sight of them. Constantine’s soldiers have arrived at the scene already. But even as I think it, one of the soldiers comes up to us holding his arms out, no weapon in sight. Another does the same.

  As they do, a woman with silver-gray hair hurries between them toward us. She nods at me as she reaches us. Her silks are fine, her stance regal. A Karensan noble. And her eyes are fixed on me with an intense urgency.

  “Hurry now,” she says to us. “Come with me. We don’t have much time.”

  32

  TALIN

  After the traumatic scene on the bridge, I retreat to my bedchamber. Everything in me is shaking. I don’t even bother to hide my emotions anymore. The walls around my heart are gone, and in their place is my bare grief and pain and fury. They roil through me for hours as I pace restlessly in my room.

  Let Constantine feel it. That’s what he wants anyway, isn’t it? To know that he’s broken me down?

  Let him. I don’t care.

  Somewhere in the city, General Caitoman has tortured my mother. And the rebellion that I’d thought was worth helping has instead been supporting that same man, aiming to make him the next Premier.

  Constantine is a monstrous leader. But Caitoman will be worse.

  How could I have aided him? How could I not know?

  General Caitoman, the same man who terrorized victims in Mara. Who tortures prisoners. Who smiled when he ordered me to do atrocious things for the Premier.

  The thought festers within me.

  Have I been working with someone who has no intention of ending Karensa’s regime, after all? Replacing one Tyrus with another, one who is even crueler. If they succeed, then what? Caitoman is left to be the ruler of the Federation? Will I just serve him as his Skyhunter? What would my freedom even mean? Where would we go? Will our countries still all be under the Federation’s rule?

  All my rage rises. I want to destroy everything. I want to tear everything apart with my bare hands. My wings unfurl, extend. The light from my furious eyes reflects off the walls.

  It is in this state that I hear my door open and shut.

  I whirl to see Mayor Elland standing there.

  Her eyes turn wary as she takes me in. Seeing her now makes me even angrier. I bare my teeth and stalk toward her. I could kill her right now. Kill them all, for betraying me.

  The mayor sees me coming and holds a hand out to stop me. I snarl, ready to shove her arm aside and push her against the wall.

  “I have your mother,” she says to me.

  I stop in mid-motion, confused. What did she say?

  When I stay frozen, my hand still held aloft, the mayor tightens her lips and nods at me, her hand still up. “I have your mother,” she repeats, emphasizing each word meaningfully as if she’s afraid I might not understand. “Some of my spies were in the General’s patrol today, after the guard rotation. Constantine gave her location away to me when he said that his brother was with her. She is now at my estate.”

  All my breath escapes me now. My mother? My mother. All the strength I’d felt moments earlier, that I’d been so ready to direct at the mayor, now crumbles in on itself, and my knees go weak. My limbs suddenly feel numb, and for a moment, I wonder if I’m going to collapse. My gaze returns to the mayor, all my fury sucked out and replaced with bewilderment.

  She gives me a tragic smile. “She’s resting from her injuries.” At that, she winces. The memories of what happened earlier today flood through me in a fresh wave of pain.

  So it did happen, then. Constantine had made good on his word—Caitoman made sure of it. A whisper of a sob escapes me, and my knees really do give way. I sink to the floor.

  “I’m sorry, Talin,” the mayor murmurs to me as she kneels before me.

  “When can I see her?” I sign, not knowing how else to communicate with her.

  The mayor shakes her head at me, indicating she doesn’t understand, before reaching into her robe and pulling out a small booklet of paper and an ink pen. “Write the best you can,” she whispers.

  I stare at her, suspicious, before taking the paper and pen and gathering my limited knowledge of written Karenese.

  When? See mother? I write.

  “After the arena,” she replies.

  The spark of anger in me rises again, and I clench my jaw. I don’t even bother writing anything down for her this time—instead, I shove a finger at her chest and then gesture to myself, putting my hands up in impatience.

  “No, you’re going to wait,” the mayor snaps. “It’s too dangerous. You think it was easy for me to make my way to you here, to give you this news? The Premier can feel his power being squeezed all around him, can sense an imminent collapse. He’s never more dangerous than he is now. He’s—”

  The mayor bows her head. “I’m sorry, Talin. Constantine … he’s…” She pauses in her words and shakes her head. In that gesture, I see an ocean of regret, a heartbreak that’s lasted decades, born from her watching a little boy grow up into the cruel image of his own father.

  “Raina de Balman is missing,” she finally says in a low voice.

  An icy chill runs down my spine. This is the real reason why she’s here, and why it’s too dangerous for me to see my mother right now.

  When? I write.

  “Since last night. She has not responded to my letters nor opened the lab institute’s gates to see me. I’m greeted only by a lab worker when I go there.”

  I think of the ring, of Caitoman’s ties with Raina, and my eyes darken at the mayor. General Caitoman? I write.

  The mayor frowns at me. “What do you mean?”

  The anger comes out in my harsh writing. You work with General Caitoman. You all work for him.

  She stares at me, as if not quite believing that she understands what I’m writing. “Why do you think Caitoman has anything to do with our plans?” she whispers.

  I stare coldly at her. Then I sketch a quick, rough image of the ring, with sunrays on it. Above it, I write, Raina’s ring. Caitoman’s ring. Raina’s ring is the same ring that Caitoman gave to the soldier that tortured my mother.

  I don’t know what I expect to see on the mayor’s face. Realization, perhaps, that I’ve uncovered their ruse. Fear of me.

  But all I see is confusion. She shakes her head. “You’re mistaken,” she says. “Caitoman is one of our targets.”

  I take a step closer to her. Then I write another phrase on the paper. You and Raina have different plans.

  The truth seems to hit her then, at the same time it hits me.

  The two women had always been at odds.

  “Tell me when you saw the sun ring on the Chief Architect,” the mayor says slowly.

  I struggle for the right Karenese words before I write a date down. The date I’d returned to the capital with Constantine.