It takes a moment for my words to register, but when they do, Lord Ovelgan rises to his feet once more. “Guards!” he calls out, but no one comes.

“No one is there,” Lady Ovelgan says, her voice quavering. “That’s what I was trying to say. There are no guards, no servants, no slaves. No one at all in this house.”

“They’ve all been gathered in the village,” I say, before beginning to recount the second half of our plan. Back at the Water Mine, S?ren said that the Ovelgans would hear us out, that they would invite us into their home. From then, it became a matter of what we would do once we got here. “Those who put up a fight were killed on the spot, with the weapons my soldiers smuggled in to arm your slaves. Many of my soldiers are Water Guardians, and their weapons were hidden with their illusion gifts. Those who surrendered will be staying here in the village, under close watch of your former slaves, until we can decide what is to be done with them. You are welcome to stay with them, and with your children, so long as you cooperate.”

Lord Ovelgan turns to S?ren. “You can’t allow her to do this,” he says, his voice rising. “I’m no ally of the Kaiserin’s. Surely there is an arrangement to be made.”

For an instant, S?ren wavers, but he pushes his doubts aside just as quickly. “I don’t allow Queen Theodosia to do anything, my lord,” he says. “You are no ally of the Kaiserin’s, that’s true, and that will be taken into consideration, but you and your wife are still war criminals in the eyes of the Astreans. You have still taken their lands and held the people as slaves, and there are consequences for those actions.”

“And what of you?” Lord Ovelgan demands, his voice becoming a roar. “What are your consequences?”

That gives S?ren pause, but after a second, he finds his answer. “I think I’ve begun to pay them,” he says. “And I will continue to do so until the day I die, however my Queen decides I should.”

“But what of the children?” Lady Ovelgan demands. “They’re too young; they’ve done nothing wrong.”

“What if I said we would treat them as kindly as you treated our children when you came here?” I ask, unable to keep my voice from rising. It gives me some satisfaction to see the horror cross their faces at the prospect. “Lucky for you, we are not so monstrous. They’ll be taken care of. Fed and clothed and cared for—given far better treatment than you gave the children of Astrea. I can assure you of that.”

S?ren draws his sword again, and Lord Ovelgan’s hand immediately goes to the pommel of his sword, but his wife places her hand over his, stopping him.

“No,” she says, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “No, we’ll surrender. We’ll come quietly and do as you say. So long as the children are safe.”

For an instant, Lord Ovelgan looks like he might argue, but he only drops his head and releases his sword, raising his hands in surrender and allowing S?ren to disarm him and bind his arms behind his back without a protest.

WHEN WE REACH THE VILLAGE square, it is aglow with bonfires and torches, and frantic with an energy that is half terrified and half triumphant. I spot familiar faces in the crowded square from the troops we brought in, but plenty of strangers as well, with a haunted and disoriented look about them that I’ve grown familiar with over the last few months—the look of people who can still feel the weight of chains against their skin even after they’ve been removed.

S?ren leads Lord and Lady Ovelgan to what used to be the slave quarters. He’s arranged for them to remain separate from the other Kalovaxians, with only their children, though that is less of a kindness and more of a precaution. If I learned anything from the Kaiser, it was the necessity of keeping my enemies isolated, to keep them manageable and unable to conspire with others like them.

The children will be taken care of—I truly meant that. I’ve seen enough to know that hate is something learned, not something inherent. I saw it firsthand in Cress, in how she treated me when we were children and how she treated me once her father and her world convinced her that I was less than her.

Perhaps there is hope that Fritz and Karolina and Elfriede and all of the other children from this village will be able to grow up differently. I have to hold on to that hope or else I don’t know what it is I’m fighting for—to be the same as the Kalovaxians? To treat their children the way they treated ours, treated me? To give them all of the hate we’ve stored up until one day they strike back at us the same way we’re striking now?

That cycle would have no end. There has to be a better way.

“Theo.”

I turn to find Blaise, Artemisia, and Heron coming toward me, each looking worn but with no injuries, as far as I can see. I let out a breath of relief.

“Any complications?” I ask them.

All three shake their heads.

“It was just as S?ren said—altogether, there were more slaves than there were Kalovaxians. Once we got them weapons and helped them use them to take control of the village, it was all rather easy.”

“The manor was the same,” Heron adds. “As soon as you and the Ovelgans were in the dining room, the other guards and I went through the house, arming any Astrean we saw with the weapons the Water Guardians had disguised. We left the children and their nanny upstairs, just as you said.”

“It wasn’t only the nanny with them,” I tell him, before explaining what happened with Rigga. When I finish, they’re all silent.

“You’re sure she’s dead?” Blaise asks.

I nod. “There was nothing left of her by the time the poison had done its work. Just ash. But we have a bigger problem now—Cress is on her way. She should be here in two days—which means that this victory was a temporary one. Even if we leave, she and her men will simply reclaim the village and return the Astreans here to chains, if she doesn’t just kill them.”

“We could stay here and fight,” Artemisia says. “It’s as good a place as any, and since we have more information than she does going into this, there’s a good chance we could win.”

I shake my head. “It would be a temporary win, even if we do manage it,” I say. “No, send a message to your mother. Have her change course and meet us at the Savria River before she goes to the Earth Mine. We’ll send the prisoners and a group of Astreans who can’t or won’t fight to her while we continue to the Air Mine as planned. By the time Cress arrives, there will be nothing here.”

They all consider it for a moment.

“We could buy ourselves more time if we leave a handful of Kalovaxians here,” Heron says. “Give them a message to relay to the Kaiserin, lead them to believe we’re marching toward Etta Forest to prepare for a siege on the capital.”

I purse my lips. “Lord Ovelgan,” I say. “We’ll leave him, and him alone. We’ll have his wife and children, and I’m sure he’ll say whatever we ask of him in exchange for some measure of clemency.”

“You aren’t going to pardon him?” Artemisia asks, brow furrowing.

“Gods, no,” I say. “But I don’t think he’d believe us if we offered that anyway. No, we’ll agree to spare his wife and his children, to send them away somewhere to live in peace. If Cress doesn’t kill him and he manages to survive the war, he’ll stand trial for his crimes and pay whatever price is agreed to be fair, just like every other Kalovaxian. If he lives long enough to atone for his crimes, he’ll be able to join his family.”

The three of them exchange looks.

“It doesn’t sound like enough,” Artemisia says after a moment.

“I know,” I say. “But what would you do? Kill them all?”

Art doesn’t answer, and I have a feeling that’s exactly what she was about to suggest.

“I understand the temptation,” I say. “Believe me, I do. But all that would do is keep this vicious circle moving. Those children would grow up thinking of us as the enemies who slaughtered their families, building up anger until they’ve built a rebellion all their own to avenge their loved ones, just as we’re doing now. I want to end this for good.”

Heron nods. “I’ll tell S?ren. If anyone is going to convince Lord Ovelgan to cooperate, it will be him.”

I give him my thanks and watch him leave, before turning back to Artemisia.

“I don’t think there is any punishment, any measure of vengeance, that will ever be enough to make up for what they’ve done to us—to you,” I add, thinking about her time in the Water Mine, her brother’s death, her rape at the hands of a guard. “Even death seems like it is too good for many of them. But there are others who were only complicit. It’s enough of a crime on its own and it will not go unpunished, but there are shades to it, levels. If we slaughter them all, we’re no better than they are. What will we even be fighting for?”