We follow the sounds of roars and conversation to an open plaza on the edge of the market district, not far from Storm’s End. I catch Rowan looking in the direction of the school, her body visibly relaxing at the lack of smoke plumes from that direction.

The bells sound. Rowan and I are both greeted by name. Vera hugs Rowan from behind, her tears creating river patterns down her cheeks as they wash away the splattered blood.

Sentinel Renna emerges from the crowd of fighters and gives a respectful touch on my shoulder. Even her renowned scowl breaks as she smiles at me. “Good to see you, warrior Callen. Did all your team return?”

Exin. His memory is distant, yet bright as a new burn. I shake my head, and Renna bows hers. “Skies keep them, and us.”

The bells continue calling throughout the air, only to be interrupted by a series of cheers as Shirene, resplendent in her new armor, appears in her lioness form on an adjacent rooftop. A voice calls her name so earnestly and desperately that it can only belong to Sethran. The cheers get louder as she dives in her lion form and then retakes her human one only to run straight into his arms.

Rowan calls out to her sister.

Shirene glances up, stepping back from Seth to look at us.

And that’s when a bullet pierces her armor, ripping directly through her chest.

48

ROWAN

“No!” I shriek, my hand whipping back to grab at my last knife. The warriors around me scatter as I scan every doorframe, every window. No. No. No.

Another gunshot sounds, and I duck instinctively. A shadow slumps from behind the door in the clothing shop past where Sethran is now crouched, screaming and holding my sister. I sprint toward it, the joyous call of the bells clashing with the horror of his sobs. I hear the word healer, and several Leonodai take to the skies at once. Others go for the rest of the street, checking for other human stragglers.

Callen is right behind me as I get to the doorframe. Dark blood seeps out from below it. The realization dawns on me, and when I push the door open, the human soldier’s body falls with the thud. His head is totally gone, replaced by gray spatters and blood.

The sight makes my stomach turn, but I can’t help but stare at the vile, vile sight. Callen grips my shoulders.

“He took his own life,” he mutters, but I barely register his words. A mad hope seizes me, and I dash back outside. Two healers land beside Sethran, taking their human forms instantly. Their hands go to their supplies—salves and rolls of white bandages. Seth sobs as he holds Shirene close. Trembling. Whispering.

I dive beside them, desperately shoving my way between the two healers. “Move!”