Serina shook her head. “I need to keep pressure on your wound. No being a selfless hero on my watch.” Her eyes widened as she surveyed the pier. “Besides, they don’t need me.”

The wave of women washed across the pier, and soon the last remaining soldiers were caught, pulled deep into its fierce undertow. Blades, spears, fists… with their training and their anger, with their homemade weapons and their bare hands, the women brought the soldiers down.

To Serina, it looked like a miracle. And maybe it was. But it was also because these men hadn’t been prepared for the fury or the organization of the women of Mount Ruin. It was obvious they hadn’t been expecting a battle.

But Serina and her army had given them one.

Val and the markswomen climbed down from the cliffs.

Mirror wasn’t the only one with a serious injury, and four of the female warriors had lost their lives. The soldiers lay in a bloodstained heap, their eyes unseeing. The few survivors, all with significant injuries, were killed. No one wanted another Nero or Diego to ruin them, not this close to freedom.

The ship bobbed next to the pier, its engine still belching steam.

Serina knelt beside Mirror and fought back tears of relief to see her still breathing, still conscious. Blood had leaked through the makeshift bandage on her arm, but it appeared to be slowing. Mirror gave Serina a wobbly smile. “I think I might survive.”

Serina smiled back. “You will.”

Ember took over with Mirror so Serina could wash her hands clean of blood at the edge of the pier. She searched the ocean for signs of another ship, for the next danger. It was hard to imagine the threat was over, that after everything, they’d achieved their goal. A ship, an escape route. Serina had greeted the dawn in defeat, so much of the island burned to its lava-black bedrock. Now they had everything they needed.

Anika came up to Serina with her firearm in her hands. She looked as flabbergasted as Serina felt. “Did we just… win?”

“It doesn’t feel real,” Serina replied. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, now that she had no need to use them as weapons. She rubbed the back of each, wincing at the bruises and torn skin.

Val joined them, his face still covered in the soot he’d used to camouflage it. “The Superior underestimated you. Only thirty soldiers.”

“I would have been happy with a boat full of prisoners and only a couple of guards,” Serina replied. “But we made it.”

His teeth gleamed when he grinned. Serina returned his smile. Her shoulders relaxed, but her chest was still tight, her throat sore from the smoke and all the screaming. Her body swayed toward him, aching for a quiet moment, an embrace.