“No, no, no,” Hassan pleaded, a sob rising in his throat.

Her body convulsed in his arms. Her eyes went vacant. And then she was still.

Hassan didn’t know how long he sat there, half submerged in the water, before the doors of the throne room burst opened and Hector and Khepri rushed inside.

“Hassan!” Khepri screamed. She froze as she spotted him, and then sprinted over to him, pulling him out of the water, away from Lethia’s body.

“I’m all right,” Hassan said.

Hector looked skeptical. “You’re covered in blood.”

“It’s not mine,” he assured them. “Lethia, she…”

Khepri hugged him tight against her and only then did Hassan realize he was sobbing.

“It’s all right,” she soothed. “It’s over. It’s over. Herat is free.”

Lethia’s words came rushing back to him, shoving past the horror and shock of her death. Hassan gripped Khepri’s shoulders.

“We have to go,” he said. “Right now.”

“Sefu and Chike have already gone to signal that the throne has been captured,” Khepri said. “The fighting will end soon.”

“No,” Hassan said. “Not that. Lethia told me something before she died. We need to get to Jude and Anton before—”

A great roar drowned out Hassan’s words as the entire throne room shook violently.

“What’s happening?” Khepri yelled.

A crack as loud as thunder boomed as the roof of the throne room tore clean off the walls. Khepri shoved Hassan to the ground as chunks of rock crashed down around them.

“I think,” Hector said, shouting above the howl of wind and falling debris, “the god is here.”

Dazed, Hassan stared up at the sky. It was no longer gray and heavy with clouds—it was blood red.

Another deafening crack split the air. The sky flickered, and rain pelted down on Hassan’s face.

“We have to move,” Khepri shouted, hauling Hassan to his feet and bolting toward the great double doors that opened out into the palace’s front steps, Hector at their heels.

They slammed through the doors and onto the portico that overlooked the central courtyard. Beyond it lay the destroyed gates and Ozmandith Road, flooded with rain and littered with bodies and debris.

Hassan couldn’t see the god, but there were signs of its arrival everywhere he looked. Smoke rising from the Artificers’ Quarter. Whole blocks completely leveled by the god’s power, market squares and stadiums reduced to piles of sandstone.

It was like Behezda all over again. Except this time, it was Hassan’s city the god was destroying.

A slash of silver light forked through the sky, startling Hassan from his horror and spurring him back to action.

“Come on!” he yelled to Khepri and Hector, sprinting down the steps. They could cut through the central courtyard and exit through the south gates, which would put them in striking distance from the lighthouse ruins. They could get to Jude and Anton.