House of Flame and Shadow (Crescent City #3) by Sarah J. Maas

“Where the fuck is your hand?” Tristan Flynn shouted to Ruhn over the gunfire, a rifle at his shoulder. He fired behind them, again and again, and Baxian pivoted the gunner to the rear, unloading bullets onto the pursuing enemy.

Ruhn was well and truly crying then.

The van veered, and Flynn shouted, “Shit!” as it narrowly dodged a pedestrian—a draki female who shrieked, falling back against the wall of a building.

The radio crackled again, and a stranger’s voice filled it. “Daybright, we’re a go at Meridan.”

Another voice: “We’re a go at Alcene.”

Another: “Ready at Ravilis.”

On and on. Eleven locations total.

Then a soft female voice said, “This is Irithys. Set to ignite at the Eternal City.”

“What the fuck is happening, Lidia?” Hunt breathed. They raced through the narrow city streets, the van with Flynn falling into line behind them. Hunt grunted, “Those are all places on the Spine.”

Athalar was right: Every single city mentioned was a major depot along the vital railway that funneled imperial weapons to the front.

Lidia didn’t take her eyes off the road as she picked up the radio. “This is Daybright. Blast it to Hel, Irithys.”

Ruhn knew that name. He remembered the three sprites telling Bryce just a few weeks ago that their queen, Irithys, would want to hear of Lehabah’s bravery. The lost Queen of the Fire Sprites.

“Consider it done,” Irithys said.

And as they took another sharp turn onto a broad street, Ruhn’s body bleating with pain as he again collided with the car door, an explosion bloomed on the other end of the city. An explosion so big that only someone made of fire might have caused it—

In the distance, another eruption sounded.

Ruhn could see it in his mind’s eye: The line of exploding orange and red that raced up the continent. One depot after another after another, all exploding into nothing. The Hind had broken the Spine of Pangera with one fatal blow, ignited by the fire from the lost Sprite Queen.

Ruhn couldn’t help but admire the symbolism of it, for the only race of Vanir who’d universally stood with Athalar during the Fallen rebellion to have lit this match. He caught a glimpse of Athalar’s face—the awe and grief and pride shining there.

The entire land seemed to be rumbling with the impact from the explosions. Lidia said, “We needed a distraction. Ophion and Irithys obliged.”

Indeed, not one pedestrian or driver looked at the jeep or the van racing for the city walls. All eyes had turned to the north, to the train station.

Angels in imperial uniforms flew for it, blotting out the sun. Sirens wailed.

Even if word had gone out about their escape, the Eternal City—and all of Pangera—had bigger things to deal with.

“And Ophion needed a shot at survival,” Lidia added. “So long as the Spine remained intact, they couldn’t gain any ground.”

She’d once told Ruhn that Ophion had been trying and failing to blow up the Spine for years now. Yet she’d done it. Somehow, she’d done it … for all of them.

They turned onto an even larger avenue, this one leading right out of the city, and Flynn’s van pulled up beside them again. “We’ll cover the highway. Get to the port!” he shouted. Lidia saluted the male, and Flynn winked at Ruhn before the van peeled away and the Fae lord slid the door shut.

But ahead of them, at the gate through the city walls, a light began flashing. An alarm blaring atop another guard station.

From the massive stone archway, a metal grate began to descend, preparing to seal the city. Trapping those responsible for the station attack inside—or trapping them.

The guards, all wolves in imperial uniforms, whirled toward them, and Ruhn winced as Baxian unleashed his bullets before they could draw their weapons. People shrieked along the sidewalks, fleeing into buildings and ducking behind parked cars.

“We’re not going to make it,” Baxian called as Lidia zoomed toward the guard station.

“Lidia,” Athalar warned.

“Get down!” Lidia barked, and Ruhn shut his eyes, sinking low as the grate lowered at an alarming rate. Metal screamed and exploded right above them, the car rocking, shuddering—

Yet Lidia kept driving. She raced onto the open road beyond the city as the grate slammed shut behind them.

“Cutting it a little close, don’t you think?” Hunt shouted to Lidia, and Ruhn opened his eyes to find that the gunner had been ripped clean off. Baxian was clinging for dear life to the back of the jeep, a manic grin on his face.

They had made it, and the closure of the city gate had sealed in any land-bound cars or patrols. Precisely as Lidia had planned, no doubt.

“That was the easy part,” Lidia called over the wind, and the jeep sailed out into the countryside, into the olive groves and rolling hills beyond.

Ruhn stirred from where he’d collapsed against the side paneling. His wrist bled—the wound had reopened.

Declan said over the radio, “Let me talk to him.”

For a heartbeat, Ruhn met Lidia’s bright, golden eyes. Then she extended the radio to him. It was all Ruhn could do to clutch the radio in his good hand. Good being relative. His fingernails were gone.

“Hey, Dec,” he groaned.

Declan laughed thickly—like he might have been holding back tears. “It’s so fucking good to hear your voice.”