Though panicked crowds amass in other areas of the city, the soldiers’ tunnel is empty by the time we reach it. The exit is hidden in the basement of a now-deserted factory. Some of the machinery creaks onward though the stations have all been abandoned. The heaters are still on, speaking to how swiftly the place was evacuated.

Judging by the time stamps on the messages I received, the army had word of the danger long before the city’s alarm sirens went off. Crisscrossing boot tracks in the mud at the mouth of the tunnel indicate they were in a rush even with that advance notice. Vin has fallen. Il Yask down. Kelivskyny down. Drev Dravaask will surely follow. I think of all the civilians stuck waiting for elevators with no idea what’s coming for them, and swallow down guilt. This city is huge, and there’s no way it can evacuate in time, but that’s not a problem I can fix. Saving my family will have to be enough.

My siblings peer up at the dark tunnel hesitantly. Lyre clings to Pol’s arm, and he rubs her back with one absentminded hand. Scorpia squints in the dim lighting, her eyes bloodshot. Drom keeps glancing over her shoulder. I force myself to keep a stony face, hiding the conflict I still feel.

“This leads to an old factory near the caves,” I say. “It’ll be a quick walk to the ship from there.”

Unless we find soldiers waiting to apprehend us the moment we walk through… or soldiers waiting at the ship to jump us and steal it… or unless even this route isn’t fast enough for us to escape the doom that’s coming for the city. A million things could still go wrong, but I can’t let my siblings know that. I step into the darkness without hesitation. Ten feet in, I realize no one is following, and turn. “It’s safe. I’ve been through before.”

No one moves. The twins exchange a glance, while Lyre looks behind her at the stairs up to the factory, and Scorpia stares down at her half-laced boots. Drom’s the one who finally speaks.

“We haven’t heard from Momma. She could be trapped in the city.”

“We don’t have time for that,” I say, choking back the real truth: that I suspect Momma is nowhere near us, and we have no chance of reuniting with her, now or ever again. They don’t need to know that yet. It will only make them panic. “Drev Dravaask has never been evacuated before. Something terrible is coming.” Something our family brought here.

Drom keeps her arms folded over her chest. Pol’s hand drops from Lyre’s back. His eyes narrow, features twisting into an expression I recognize from his younger years—the expression that means he’s determined to be unreasonable. Drom may be stubborn, but Pol is worse. He’s emotional.