“What sort of compensation?” I ask, the words coming out sharp. I haven’t forgotten that Dragonsbane once promised the Sta’Criverans the Water Mine without my consent. I’m not about to underestimate her again.
Dragonsbane must hear my suspicion, because she smiles with teeth. “Giosetta has been trying to convert me from pirate to privateer for Doraz. Perhaps I will agree to it. After the war is done, I imagine there will be no more Kalovaxian dragons I will need to be the bane of.”
Dragonsbane is as hard to read as ever, but I think it might be an apology for Sta’Crivero. Whatever it is, I’ll take it.
“Well then,” I say, looking back at the map. “While you do that, where will the rest of us go? The Air Mine is closest—”
“In terms of physical distance, yes,” Dragonsbane says. “But we would have to get all of our troops over the Dalzia Mountains and either across or around the Savria River. Not to mention there are several of the same large cities and towns you mentioned that we would have to get past, in the middle of a largely barren landscape with nowhere to hide.”
I look at the map, at the large stretch of land at Astrea’s center. Dragonsbane is right. We could have made it from here to the Air Mine without detection before we liberated the Fire Mine, but now there are too many of us. We’d be lucky if we even made it to the Savria River before the Kaiserin got word of our actions.
“What of the Water Mine?” I ask after a moment. “It’s the farthest, geographically speaking, but we would be able to keep to the coastline, with the mountains for cover. There are some smaller villages we might come across, but we could avoid them or contain them as needed and they wouldn’t prove much of a threat. Water Guardians might not have the physical strength of Earth Guardians, but Artemisia is fierce enough, and I can think of a few war tricks to play with illusions.”
No one replies right away, but they all exchange glances.
“We received word from the spies we placed in the new Theyn’s household,” Sandrin says after a moment. “It seems he got word that King Etristo was…more than a little displeased that you fled Sta’Crivero, stealing his property.”
“You were refugees,” I point out. “Not his property.” Though I remember how the refugees I met had been given the worst jobs that no one else wanted and had been paid a pittance for the work. In the Sta’Criverans’ eyes, they were little more than slaves.
“No,” Sandrin says. “But the ships you stole were,” he points out. “However, I imagine he’s feeling the loss of the refugee camp just as keenly in many respects.”
“Right,” I say. “I forgot about the ships. How angry is he?”
“Angry enough to conspire with the Kaiserin—more than he already was. We received word that the Sta’Criverans and Kalovaxian envoys will be making a trade in five days’ time.”
“A trade,” I say slowly. “A trade for what?”
“Sta’Criveran troops, most likely,” Dragonsbane says. “But whatever it is, Etristo’s son, Prince Avaric, will be coming to secure the arrangement in person, so we can assume it’s important. The trade will happen at the Water Mine. Our sources say that the Sta’Criverans are on track to arrive around noon in five days, and the trade will happen at sundown. If we were to continue on there, we would be walking straight into them.”
Something seems off, but it takes me a second to realize what it is. “They wouldn’t send Avaric all the way here to bring troops—he’s not a general, he has no experience. And the Sta’Criveran army is subpar at best. You said it yourself, they’ve never had to fight a war. Why trade at all?”
Maile shrugs. “Bodies are bodies, and we are already outmatched.”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t make sense. There’s more to it. And what is King Etristo meant to be getting out of it?”
“The Water Mine,” Dragonsbane says. “It seems our deal might have fallen through, but he’s as determined as ever to own it.”
With Sta’Crivero facing a deep drought, I’m sure he is. But somehow, that explanation makes even less sense.
“So King Etristo is sending his heir all the way here, to a war-torn country, expecting him to return empty-handed, with only a promise? There’s no reason for the Prince to be coming in person.”
Sandrin tilts his head. “You think there’s more to the deal?”
“Yes,” I say. “And I don’t know what it is, but if both the Sta’Criverans and the Kalovaxians want it so badly, then so do I.”
I pause, staring at the map, as if I could find answers there instead of just lines and names and paths.
“We could be walking into a trap,” I say. “Or we could turn the trap on them.”
“How?” Dragonsbane asks.
“Illusions,” I say. “The strength of the Water Mine. If the Sta’Criverans arrive at noon, when will the Kalovaxians meet them?”
Draagonsbane and Maile exchange a look. “It’s less distance to cover from the capital,” Dragonsbane says after a moment. “They’ll be riding, likely a small group. I imagine they would try to get there around the same time.”
I nod slowly. “Could we hinder their journey? Put a few hours between the Sta’Criverans’ arrival and theirs?”
Dragonsbane considers it. “Yes, we could manage that. Send a few spies to the places they’ll stop to rest. Let the horses loose, break some saddle straps, slip something into their food to upset their stomachs. Why?”
“If we’re able to take out the Sta’Criveran forces before the Kalovaxians arrive, we could send Artemisia and some other Water Guardians in place of the Sta’Criverans, disguised to intercept whatever they intend to trade. We would have to leave as soon as possible, get there before the other parties do, but—”
“And what about S?ren?” Erik asks, his voice soft. It’s the first thing he’s said in a while; I nearly forgot he was here. “Theo, you promised we would do whatever we could.”
I bite my lip. Part of me would like nothing more than to march straight toward the capital with fire at my fingertips, burning anything and anyone who stands between S?ren and me. But if he were here, he would call me a fool for even considering it.
“The Prinz is the least of our priorities,” Sandrin says before I can speak.
“He’s likely already dead, anyway,” Dragonsbane adds. “You would stage a rescue for a corpse.”
“And good riddance, if you ask me,” Maile snaps.
Erik’s face is etched with frustration, and I imagine he’s biting his tongue to keep from screaming. I don’t blame him—I don’t know what S?ren’s in the middle of right now, but it can’t be pleasant. Still, the others have valid points. It’s weighing the life of one against the lives of thousands.
“I know what I promised, but S?ren can’t be a priority right now,” I say, looking at Erik. “He went with Cress to protect the rest of us, and it was a noble sacrifice. Trying to rescue him like this would be a waste of that sacrifice, and I’m sure if we asked him what we should do, he would say the same thing.”
I watch the shock and hurt play over Erik’s face before it fades to a mask of stone that makes him look alarmingly like the Kaiser, like his father. Without a word, he storms out of the room, the door slamming behind him so hard that I expect it to splinter.
An uncomfortable silence lasts until I break it. “Does anyone have a better plan than the Water Mine?” I ask.
“You don’t have a plan for the Water Mine,” Dragonsbane points out mildly. “You have an idea.”
“One that we need to act quickly on if it’s going to work,” I say. “We’ll leave at dawn, and we can formulate the rest of the plan on our way. Unless anyone has a better idea?”
I look around the room, but no one speaks, not even Maile.
“Very well,” I say. “Send word to the troops. Have them meet us in the Perea Forest as quickly as they can. We’ll regroup and attack from there.”
* * *
—
I find Erik lingering outside the office barrack, waiting for me.
“You told me we would save S?ren,” he says as soon as he sees me. “You promised me that.”
I hold Erik’s gaze and nod once before dropping my eyes. “I know,” I say. “But they’re right, Erik. If we save S?ren right now, it’s at the expense of everyone else. And on top of that, there is no direct path to the capital that ends with any of us alive. You have to know that.”
Erik closes his eyes tightly, shaking his head. “He’s my brother, Theo,” he says, voice breaking. “We can’t leave him to die.”
“We don’t know that he will,” I say, though it sounds naive even to my own ears. “Cress wouldn’t take him all the way back to the capital just to kill him. She could have done that here. If she’s keeping him alive, it’s for a reason.”
“A public execution for a traitor prinz is reason enough,” he says.
I shake my head. “Her hold on the throne is weak, and there are plenty in the capital who believe S?ren is the rightful heir. Her best chance of holding on to the throne is marrying him.”
“You’re guessing,” he says.
I shrug. “So are you,” I point out. “But I know Cress. She’s too smart to kill him—at least before she’s tried to use him to her advantage first.”