She came up on her knees by the door leading to Perry and Cinder’s chamber. Behind her she heard yells, footsteps scattering in panic. She jabbed at the security panel. A red flashing message told her what she’d already known. Only a special access code would get her inside.

“Soren!” she yelled, having no idea if he’d help or if he was in league with Hess now.

The rattle of gunfire exploded around her. She covered her ears, tucking into a ball. Gunshots pocked the door in front of her, and the smell of hot metal seeped into her nose. She braced for the same slap she’d felt in her arm when she’d been shot in Reverie. It didn’t come.

“Stop! Don’t hurt the boy! He cannot be harmed!” Hess shouted over the noise. Aria peered behind her to see him shove a Guardian, who dropped the pistol in his hand. One of the Horns had Roar by the arms, and Soren was belly crawling toward her from the opposite side of the room.

She didn’t see Sable.

“Out! Everyone out!” Hess yelled.

Abruptly, the gunfire ceased and men rushed for the door. Guardians and Horns jammed at the exit, pushing, shoving in their hurry to flee. In the kick and trample, the fallen pistol skittered across the polished floor, stopping a few feet from Aria.

She snatched it up, aiming at the man who was dragging Roar outside. “Let him go!”

The Horn soldier released Roar without a fight, plunging into the corridor. The door slid closed behind him.

Sable and Hess. Guardians and Horns. Everyone had cleared out.

Roar rushed to her side, Soren a second after. A high-pitched alarm exploded through the room’s speakers.

“We have to get out of here,” Soren yelled. “They’re going to gas the chamber.”

Aria looked up, tuning her ears, listening between the siren’s blares. A faint hiss came through the air vents. It was already happening.

“Find something to cut me loose, Soren,” Roar said.

Aria faced the glassed room. The only thought in her mind was reaching Perry. She adjusted her grip, finding the trigger with her left index finger, and fired at the glass at an angle. The weapon bucked in her hand five, six times, before the window peeled apart and fell in a heavy sheet.

She vaulted through the window frame into the room, rushing to Perry’s side. She set the gun down and began unbuckling the heavy straps. She felt slow and clumsy with her bad hand, but she forced calm into her movements. Panicking wouldn’t help.

She glanced at Perry’s face and found his green eyes fixed on her. “Are you hurt?” she asked.

He looked tired, his skin washed of color. Cinder was almost unconscious. The brief use of his power had bled him dry.

Perry gave her a small, strained smile. “Too angry to feel pain.”