My stomach sours at the thought of all of those new deaths to add to our tally. Thousands more lives lost.

“Not necessarily,” Blaise says, his brow furrowed.

“What do you mean?” I ask Blaise.

Blaise licks his lips. “The mine,” he says. “If I were in the camp, and a fire broke out, and the guards abandoned us to die…I would go into the mine. We found it to be the case here as well. There were a few hundred slaves in the Air Mine, but they wouldn’t come out until they knew it was safe. The slaves at the Earth Mine don’t know that it’s safe. They’re hiding out there, with no idea what’s happening. I intend to go in to get them.”

“You can’t go into the mine, Blaise,” I say, surprised.

He shrugs. “Actually, I’m the only one who should,” he says, his voice coming out level, though I can see the nervousness in his eyes. “I know the layout, I know the paths. Anyone else would get lost down there.”

I want to protest, to tell him he’s being reckless and I thought we were past his martyr phase, but I hold my tongue. Though I don’t want to admit it, even to myself, I understand the logic in his words. It makes sense, but that doesn’t mean I like it. There has to be another way.

Before I can reply, Maile interjects.

“All of us can’t go to the Earth Mine,” she says. “If the Kalovaxian scouts see our whole army heading there, their army will be ready to meet us. And it won’t end well.”

“I know,” I say.

“We can go west,” Erik says. “Meet Dragonsbane’s ships like we’re meant to, but instead of just giving her our injured, we’ll all leave. Take a few months to gather our wits and our resources before we strike again.”

S?ren shakes his head. “If we flee now, we lose everything we’ve worked for, everything we’ve won. They’ll take over the Fire and Water Mines again, and the Ovelgan estate. Everything we’ve lost to get to where we are now will have been a waste.”

Though he doesn’t say Artemisia’s name, his eyes still flick to her when he speaks. She’s not lost, I want to say, but I understand what he means.

“We can’t run,” I agree. “Not even with the intent of coming back. We have to strike now or else we’ll never get another chance. If we run, we’ll no longer be the attackers, we’ll be the attacked, and Cre—the Kaiserin won’t stop until she’s destroyed us all.”

I think of Cress in my dreams, wandering through her palace, giving orders and sending others out to do her work for her, never putting herself in danger, never risking her own life. There is no chink in her armor, but strip it away, and she is nothing.

“Theo,” S?ren says, eyeing me warily. “You have that look in your eyes. Either you have a plan or you’re about to do something foolish.”

“I have…the beginnings of a plan,” I admit. “We’re going to meet with Dragonsbane, as we said we would. And then we’re going to attack the palace, from the land and from the sea.”

“That’s a death strike,” Erik says. “We don’t have the numbers; we don’t have the weapons. It will be like throwing pebbles at a giant.”

I smile, but it’s only a tight, grim line. “Not if we can make it past the capital wall, into the heart of the palace before they know what’s happening.”

Blaise understands first, his eyes growing bright. “You want to use the tunnels,” he says.

I nod. “We know there’s one from the sea that leads to the throne room and the dungeon,” I say. “Are there any others you remember with an external entrance?”

Blaise frowns, thinking. “A couple, but they might be closed off by now. I never tried them.”

Heron digs through his knapsack, draws out a rolled-up map, and unfurls it. “Where?” he asks, passing Blaise a stick of charcoal.

Blaise examines it with a furrowed brow before using the stick of charcoal to draw two x’s, followed by lines leading into the palace.

“This one lets out in the kitchen cellar,” he says. “It’s the one I used to get into the palace in the first place, so it was active as of a few months ago. This one, however, I’m less certain of. In theory, it lets out in the wine cellar, but I haven’t tested it. I only know about it thirdhand. But they’re all narrow paths. You can’t send an entire army through them. The Kalovaxians will realize and slaughter us one by one as we emerge.”

“I have no intention of doing that,” I say, before laying out exactly what I have in mind.

When I finish, the room is silent, everyone turning my words over.

“It’s a mad plan,” Maile says, breaking the silence.

“Do you have a better one?” I ask her.

Maile shakes her head. “I said it was a mad plan,” she says. “I never said it was a bad one. If it works, it’ll be a miracle, but it could work.”

S?ren nods. “I’ll start organizing the troops, figuring out who will go where,” he says.

“And I’ll get word to Dragonsbane,” Heron says.

I nod, glancing at Artemisia. “Don’t tell her what happened. Not via message. Some things need to be explained in person,” I say.

Though I know it’s the right call, I’m still dreading having to tell my aunt about Art face to face. Heron and S?ren were both kind enough to insist it wasn’t my fault, but I don’t doubt that Dragonsbane will see things very differently. She’s already lost one child. I can’t let her lose another.

* * *

—

When everyone disperses, I follow Blaise. He doesn’t look particularly surprised when I fall into step beside him.

“Come to say goodbye?” he asks, looking sideways at me.

“I’m assuming there’s no cause for me to tell you to be careful,” I say. “So I suppose yes, I’ve come to say goodbye.”

That gives him a second of pause. “I meant what I said to you, Theo,” he says. “I don’t want to die. I intend to do everything in my power to meet you at the palace, preferably with more warriors behind me.”

“Then do it,” I tell him.

He hesitates again, turning his words over in his mind. “Do you remember when we met in the kitchen cellar?” he asks. “I asked you to run, to leave all of this behind in order to live.”

I can see where he’s going and it makes me uneasy, but I have no choice but to nod. “I remember,” I say. “I was tempted to go with you, more tempted than I’m proud to admit.”

“But you didn’t,” he says. “You didn’t want to die, but you also didn’t want to live in a world where you didn’t do everything in your power to help the people who needed you.”

He takes hold of my hand as we walk, squeezes it tight in his.

“I don’t want to die,” he says again. “But I can’t live with myself if I stand by while others suffer. I think you understand that.”

I swallow down a protest and nod. “I do,” I say. “But if you go into that mine, Blaise, you’re going to be surrounded by Earth Gems. That kind of eruption of power wouldn’t kill only you.”

“I know,” he says quickly, looking away from me. “I won’t let it happen.”

He says it so easily that I almost believe it would be that simple. But we both know it won’t be.

“I trust you,” I tell him. “I trust your judgment.”

He nods. “And I trust yours,” he says, stopping and turning to face me, struggling for the right words. “I know I’ve said it before, but I love you, Theo—”

“Blaise—” I interrupt, but he continues, undaunted.

“Not the way I did before. Not the way I think I would have if we’d grown up in a world without the Kalovaxians, but it’s still love. It still means something. And I want you to hear it, to know it, if I never get a chance to tell you later.”

I want to protest, to tell him not to say goodbye like this, as if we’ll never see one another again. We’re not going to die, I want to tell him. We’re going to make it through this, alive and together. And one day soon, we will walk through the palace again and it will once more feel like home.

But then I think of Artemisia, lying unconscious in the tent, with Heron watching over her. I think of Erik, who had his eye pried from its socket with burning fingers. We aren’t safe. We aren’t untouchable. And maybe it’s better to acknowledge that, to say what needs to be said while we can.

“I love you, too,” I tell him, bringing my free hand up to rest on his cheek. His skin is as hot as ever, almost too hot to touch. This close to him, I’m reminded of what it felt like to kiss him, how it felt to lose myself in his arms. How safe he always made me feel. The memories are fond, yes, but it feels like they belong to a different person, a different version of me that no longer quite exists. Still, shadows of her linger. I press a kiss to his lips, quick and soft.

“Be brave,” I tell him. “Be true. I’ll see you soon, with an army at your back.”

I don’t tell him to be safe, and he doesn’t say it to me, either. We left safety behind a long time ago, and in a strange way, it is freeing to be able to admit that.

He presses his lips to my forehead before releasing me and walking away without another word.