“The rest of the guns,” Serina tried to say, but a coughing fit overtook her. Darkness was falling, making the red snap and crackle of flame even more terrifying. There was no air left, only smoke and heat and confusion.

“We can’t worry about the weapons,” Val said, his voice moving through the air like a wagon wheel through mud. She could hardly hear him.

Serina stumbled. Val put a wet scrap of fabric over her face. It helped her draw a couple of breaths that didn’t claw at her throat with burning fingers. The world shrank to the burn of ash in her nose, the heat of danger against her skin, the lion roar of the flames.

Serina wanted to turn to check on Ember, the other figures in the smoke. Did everyone get out? Was the compound safe?

What if she’d sent everyone to a death trap instead of a refuge?

At last, they reached the iron gate. Val bundled her through a door she’d never seen on the opposite side of the building, away from the worst of the fire. A line of women followed them in.

The air inside was stuffy and warm, but its haze was a far cry from the heavy blanket of smoke outside.

Serina bent over her knees, coughing, the firearms clutched to her chest. Ember had made it; she stood coughing beside Serina.

Val led the small group to a long open room, a dining hall. A crowd of women filled the space to bursting, sitting on tables, pacing along the windowless walls.

Serina, Val, and Ember divested themselves of their burdens, placing the firearms and ammunition carefully on a table out of the way. Only seven weapons. That’s all they’d been able to save.

Serina searched the crowd for Anika, spotting her in the far corner. Another girl was tending to the long gruesome burns on her forearms. Anika wasn’t the only injured one either. Girls all over the room were crying, coughing, cradling arms or cheeks or hands.

Serina grabbed Val’s arm and pulled him out into the hall.

“Is everyone here?” she asked, her voice still raspy and painful.

He cupped both her hands in his, caressing the soot-covered skin like he couldn’t believe he was touching her, that she was here. She understood the impulse.

“We lost two girls,” he said quietly. “We were trapped by the fire and had to get to the coast and use the beaches and cliffs. One of the girls fell. The other couldn’t handle the smoke. She collapsed. Diego and Nero—they were clever. They waited for the wind to blow from the north. I think they set several fires, in a line straight across the island. They were aiming to destroy everything.”