Free Haven (The Last Humans Book 3) by Anna Zaires, Dima Zales

Around me, pieces of Council members keep dematerializing at an increasing rate, which means there are more armed men free to attack me. Two of the nearest winged assholes turn their sights on me. When they’re twenty feet away, I launch into the air. The pounding of my wings outpaces my heart rate, which itself was trying to set some kind of a record.
    I hear the rustling of wings behind me and assume Fiona has followed my lead.
    The two big guys attempt to follow, and as soon as they do, Phoe maneuvers my body in a way that would make a hawk proud. I plunge toward the door as though my life depends on it—which it does, Limbofication notwithstanding. I hear Fiona scream behind me as a sword whooshes by my side.
    Just as my legs clear the cathedral’s entrance, a terrible pain erupts in my calf.
    I glance down at the source of the pain and wish I—or Phoe—hadn’t, because there’s a dagger sticking out of my leg.
    Fiona’s situation is worse than mine. Her wings are no longer attached to her body, and she’s falling down the mountain that the cathedral is built upon.
    My vision goes white, partly from the pain, but mostly from the very bright illumination that hits my retinas. What’s odd about the bright light is that there isn’t a sun in the sky. The light is coming from all around me.
    I try to swoop down to save Fiona, but my body, under Phoe’s control, doesn’t listen. Instead, I let go of my left sword and rip the dagger from my calf. The pain is so sharp it further blinds me. Despite the pain, I’m still torpedoing away from the cathedral.
    My left hand gestures with an open palm, and another fiery sword appears in it.
    “I’m sorry, Theo,” Phoe says. “I couldn’t let you go after Fiona. Remember, she won’t die. She’ll get written back into the DMZ—into Limbo.”
    Unsure how I feel about sacrificing Fiona, I glance back.
    She’s gone, but my pursuers aren’t. They’re flying after me like two eagles pursuing a mouse.
    Channeling my worry into flapping my wings harder, I fly faster, leaving fiery embers behind me.
    For the first time, I take a moment to register my surroundings. I’m flying up toward a dome that looks similar to the Dome in Oasis. What’s different, though, is the scenery beyond it. In the never-ending cloudy blue sky, a dozen domed islands are floating as if held there by magic. Oasis-like habitats are visible from horizon to horizon.
    No, not like Oasis—if the view below is anything to go by. Aside from the mountain bearing the cathedral behind us, there’s no greenery at all, just more barren mountain ranges—something we’ve never had in Oasis.
    “I’m sorry to distract you from the tour, but I want you to help me make an important decision,” Phoe says. “One that will affect us equally.”
    “Since when do you ask for my opinion?” I ask out loud, still upset that she didn’t save Fiona.
    “We don’t have time for you to be mad at me,” Phoe says. “We need to strategize.”
    “Fine. What do you want me to help you decide?” I keep my eyes on the approaching dome rather than on the sharp mountaintops below.
    “Okay,” she says. “Before we can form a plan, we need to Limbofy at least one more person. Two would be better. So the choices are: Do we start with our pursuers, which is risky, or escape and look for someone else?”
    Out of all the things I expected Phoe to say, “Let’s kill a bunch of people” wasn’t among them.
    “You should start by explaining why we need to do that,” I say. “And if you’re ready to explain things, I need you to tell me what the fuck is going on and why you didn’t respond when—”
    “No time for twenty questions,” Phoe says. “The reason I need you to Limbofy a few more targets is because I need more knowledge and resources. When someone gets Limbofied, their memories are prepared to be rewritten into the DMZ, similar to what happens in Oasis when someone goes to sleep. I patched into that