Partygoers poured toward the confused soldiers as Diana tried to fight the tide back to the temple room. One of the men stepped into her path, gun raised.
“Who do you fight for?” he demanded. His hair was so blond it was nearly white and cropped close to his head. She grabbed him by the throat and the wrist and shoved him against the wall, knocking the weapon from his hands.
“Get out of my way.”
She strode past him, but he seized her arm. “Our cause is just,” he said pleadingly. “Stop her. The Warbringer must die before the reaping moon. You cannot know the horrors that will be unleashed.”
“She’s a girl, and she deserves a chance,” Diana said, and wondered if she was pleading her own case, too.
“Not at this price.”
“Who are you to make such a calculation?”
“Who are you?” said the soldier.
Diana gazed into his determined blue eyes. He was right. She was gambling with the future of the world. Under other circumstances, they might have been allies.
“Whoever your leader is,” she said, “tell him there’s another way. There’s a cure, and we’re going to find it.”
“You’re mad,” he said. “The Warbringer must be stopped.”
Maybe she was, but her choice was made. Diana slammed the soldier back against the wall. “Then try and stop us.”
She ran past him, racing toward the window wall. She heard him shout, “Blow it! If we can’t get the Warbringer, we can get her bodyguard.”
From somewhere, she heard a tiny click, a button pressed, a fuse catching. She vaulted over the ruins of the temple, launching herself through the window wall. From behind her she heard an earsplitting explosion and felt a wave of heat at her back. It thrust her forward through the air. Her arms pinwheeled at her sides as the force of the bomb carried her too far too fast.
Alia’s lungs burned as she stumbled across East Drive, dodging the Saturday-night traffic, the screech of brakes and blaring car horns registering in rapid flashes as panic careened through her. She was aware of Nim’s hand in hers, of the painful slap of her soles against the pavement. Then they were on the other side of the road and tumbling into the park. She tripped and fell as her feet struck the softness of green grass.
A boom sounded behind them, and Alia turned to see a cloud of flame blooming like an angry flower from the museum’s flank before the petals curled in on themselves and the explosion receded.
Diana.
Nim was pulling on her arm. Jason was shouting. She told her feet to move, but she couldn’t stop staring at the flaming wreck of the room where they’d just been, still lit by the museum’s outdoor floodlights, as if no one had yet realized what was happening. But already she could hear sirens, see people pulling over to the side of the road. Where was Diana? If she’d made it out, she should be trailing after them, she should be crossing the road right now. But she wasn’t. Maybe she hadn’t made it. Maybe she was lying broken in the ruins of the temple. Maybe she’d been captured.
“Alia, we have to move. Now.” Jason seized her wrist and pulled her after them.
Alia cast a last look over her shoulder, and then they were charging through the trees, crashing toward the baseball diamonds. Jason was yelling into his cell phone as the Great Lawn came into view.
Alia heard a teeth-rattling shriek, and Jason threw his arms out. “Stop!”
“Holy crap,” said Nim as a jet roared overhead, impossibly close, wheels brushing the tops of the trees.
They put up their hands as the wind battered them with a hail of dust and tiny pebbles. The jet touched down on the wide, empty expanse of the Great Lawn, sending up a fountain of dirt in its wake as the wheels tore into the earth and the plane bobbled wildly.
“Is there enough room?” Theo asked.
“The Great Lawn is fifty-five acres,” Nim said.
“More trivia?” he yelled. “I just want to know if he has enough runway.”
“This isn’t my kind of runway,” retorted Nim, but her voice was wobbly.
The little plane slowed, nearing the tree line.
“He’s not going to make it,” Jason said.
Alia clapped her hands over her mouth.
But the plane skidded to a halt mere feet from the trees.
Theo whooped as the jet turned in a slow, tight circle.
“Come on,” said Jason.
As they bolted across the lawn, Alia cast another look back toward the trees, but the park was silent and dark.
The jet was painted blue and gold, the Keralis Labs logo—a golden K bracketed by laurel leaves—emblazoned on the side. Alia had been on it a few times before. As they drew closer, she could see the deep furrows the jet had left in the lawn.
The door on the side of the jet opened, and the stairs descended. A burly man with coppery hair leaned out and raised a hand in greeting.
“I guess the lines are better here than at JFK?” he said. Ben Barrows. He’d been flying with the family a long time. Alia remembered he was former military.
Jason herded them up the stairs and inside. “How did you do it, Ben?”
“Talent, grit, and a shit ton of luck,” he said. “Sorry, kids.”
“We were just shot at,” said Theo, slumping onto one of the banquettes in the lounge area at the front of the plane. “I think our tender ears will survive.”
“I’m gonna need you to get into a proper seat and buckle up for takeoff. All of you.”
“Can you get us off the ground?” asked Jason.
“Yeah, but getting back on it is going to be trickier. We sustained some damage to the landing gear.”
“How much trickier?”
“I can handle it. But we need to get out of here or we’re going to have NORAD up our asses. I told Teterboro I needed to make an emergency landing, but they’re going to notice I didn’t reach LaGuardia. We don’t get airborne pronto, we’re not going to make it off the coast.”
“Everyone, buckle up,” Jason ordered. “Ben, get us in the air.”
The others obeyed, strapping themselves into the row of seats facing the lounge.
Ben reached for the handle beside the door, but Alia grabbed his arm.
“Don’t,” she said. “We can’t just leave her, Jason.”
Ben hesitated, eyes moving from Alia to her brother.
Jason pointed at one of the empty seats. “Alia, get your ass in a seat. You saw that explosion—”
“We’re not leaving without her.”
“Ben,” said Jason. “Do it.”
Alia moved to block Ben, but Jason took her by the shoulders, forcing her away from the door and into a seat. Ben yanked the handle down, and the door began to close.
Jason’s grip was like steel. “Alia,” he said angrily. “Diana was trying to protect you. We’re all trying to protect you. We need to get out of here now or none of us is making it to the other side of this night.”
The plane lurched forward, and Alia realized Ben was back in the cockpit.
A burst of gunfire sounded from outside.
“Um, guys?” said Nim.
Alia shoved against Jason, and when he didn’t budge she turned and bit his hand. Hard.
He yelped, and she pushed away from him, scrambling past Theo and Nim to look through Nim’s window, nearly falling against it as the plane rumbled over the uneven terrain, picking up speed.
Diana was racing across the Great Lawn, blue dress in shreds, dark hair streaming behind her. A group of soldiers exploded from the woods, close on her heels.
“Jason, she’s coming!” Alia shouted.
Jason grabbed her arm again, trying to pull her back as the plane picked up speed and Theo and Nim braced themselves against their seats. “Those men are coming after you, Alia. To kill you.”
Your cause is mine.
A voice crackled over the radio. “Learjet N-535T, we have emergency vehicles en route to crash site. Please report your status.”
“Ben, if you take off, you’re fired!” Alia yelled.
“She can’t fire you!” Jason retorted.
“He signs the checks,” Ben called over his shoulder.
“Alia, we have to go!” said Jason.
“Diana!” Alia shouted pointlessly, face pressed to the window.
As if she had heard her, Diana put on a burst of speed.
“Damn,” said Theo. “That girl can run.”