The Heliana grows larger and larger. Groups of warriors fly out from between the city’s rooftops. Each team carries a net full broken rocks, the ropes grasped in their jaws as their wings strain with effort. A commander nearby roars orders overhead as we fly above the stone-carrying teams. They’ll rain the stones down, I realize. Birds and Leonodai alike needed balance to fly. One stone could break the wing of a machine, or at least throw it off course.

My spirit soars. We’ve learned how to fight back and stay safe at the same time. Even with our city drifting in the water, our people haven’t given up. I glance back at Callen, who, true to his word, is flying right at my side.

We will fight, I think. We’ll fight until the very end.

Callen, Sethran, and I land on the warm white stone of the balcony of the Queen’s Tower, treading carefully to avoid the fragments of broken glass. I take my human form, clutching the cure to my heart as sweat pours down my forehead and chest. Sethran breathes heavily beside me, the determination sharp in his eyes.

“Shirene!” he calls.

The Ninth Sentinel emerges from behind the curtain, her head low. At first, I don’t recognize her—her armor is different. Leonodai-made, sure, but that wasn’t what she used to fight in. Shirene’s cheeks are flushed, tears streaming freely down her proud face.

“Seth,” she says. “It’s too late. The prince is dead.”

“What? No,” I gasp. This can’t be real. “But we have it. We have the cure.”

“It does not matter. He died minutes ago.”

Minutes. Minutes too late, and how many did we lose? Jai. Exin. Ox.

And probably more names I don’t know yet. No, not names. Beating wings, beating hearts. To have failed and lost them. It’s too much.

I make a sound halfway between a scream and battle cry. “No. It can’t be. Please. We came so far.”

Sethran takes a step forward to comfort Shirene, then hesitates. Even now, he’s better at remembering rank than I am. “Where are the other children?”

“Most of the sick are here in the palace, others are sheltering at home,” she says. “We put our older and most vulnerable citizens in the Keep. The warriors-elect are standing guard, but it’s only a matter of time until the king surrenders.” Her eyes flicker to the sky as one of the flying machines falls in a wide arc, angry smoke billowing its tail end as a flurry of gold wings and roars send it down. “It’s over.”