And here, at the ruins, dragons launched into the air with four and five people clinging to their backs. Their wingbeats were heavy, strained under all the extra weight, but they rose into the brilliant blue sky.

Then, finally, when they’d all gone, I pushed off, spreading my wings wide, feeling the muscles work, the sinews stretch, the starlight blood pumping through my veins. Three more people had climbed onto my back—Safa sat behind Aaru, and then two I didn’t know—and their screams were wild and terrified and euphoric. Because we were flying, and because just behind us, the island pulled herself up tall with a deafening roar and splash, and the place where we’d all been standing minutes ago surged underwater.

We’d escaped, barely.

We shouldn’t have needed to.

“Seven gods.” Aaru’s voice was almost lost to the wind.

They stood all around us. Gods.

Bopha was a great darkness, pure shadow even in the noon sun.

Khulan kept his mace raised, while Damyan reached for his Fallen love. Harta curled her arms around her belly, and Idris remained far to the west, isolated even now. Behind us, Anahera’s arms were lifted in joy, caught in a dance to music only she could hear.

Darina alone remained in the sea, all mountains and river valleys and green fields. Knots of civilization dotted even the north end, though I couldn’t see any movement—not from this height, and maybe not even if I got closer.

The last Fallen God.

I bit back a horrified cry. The eclipse was close. There was no time to discuss with my friends, or read through all the holy books again. It was done. Over. I’d failed.

In the back of my mind, another great wave of despair crashed through me—through all the dragons—as Darina began to stir.

“No,” I groaned. “Please no.”

But I hadn’t shed my human soul, and apparently I didn’t know how, so there was no reason for her to listen to my prayer.

Still, I might reach the dragons.

“Be strong,” I whispered. “Stay here.” They couldn’t lose their passengers; these were some of the last people born to the Fallen Isles, and everyone we’d failed to save was a star in a sky full of tragedies. “Please,” I breathed. “Please keep them safe.”

Quiet code tapped against my arm. ::Let me onto one of the ships.::

I flew downward, catching the crash of waves and scream of wood as the ships all strained to avoid getting caught in the wild currents. The vessels rolled over huge waves, struggling to remain afloat as the water betrayed them.

“Are you sure?” I called, my voice almost lost under the wind and roar of the sea.

::I will silence the water, like Safa did after Idris.::

I just nodded, wishing I understood what I’d done wrong, and how I could make it right. I wished I could talk to him about it, but even as we neared the water, a pressure of silence built up around us and expanded toward the nearest group of ships.