Heron comes into focus, his eyes wide as he takes me in, my bloodstained dressing gown and Coltania dead at my feet, my knife’s hilt still protruding from her belly. I see him piece together what must have happened, though he can’t possibly understand why.

“She was the assassin,” I tell him. “Not working for the Kaiser, though, only for herself and her brother. To make sure I chose him. They grew tired of waiting, so they were going to kidnap me and make me marry him. I…” I trail off. “I did what I had to.”

Heron’s eyes are still wide as the moon overhead, but he nods.

“Come on,” he says, reaching a hand out to me, which I take. His hand envelops mine, an anchor I desperately need right now. “This changes things.”

It’s such an understatement that I nearly laugh out loud. I’d spent days looking over my shoulder, thinking that the Kaiser had found me. That I would never be safe from him. That might still be true, but it isn’t right now. It was never the Kaiser—just a brilliant woman with more ambition than sense. Just a dead woman. A woman I killed. I’m not sure how I feel about that yet—when I think about what I did, I go numb. So I won’t think about it now.

“King Etristo will have to let S?ren out, at least,” I say. “And then we’ll leave, just as we planned.”

Heron leads me back inside and to the riser, where the same attendant is waiting. He takes in my bloodstained clothes and what I’m sure must be my half-wild expression without a word, though someone will be alerted any moment. Then they’ll find Coltania’s body and…

“They won’t believe me,” I say, more to myself than to Heron.

He replies anyway. “I think there’s plenty of evidence to support your story,” he says.

I shake my head. “There was plenty of evidence to get S?ren out of the dungeon as well, but King Etristo didn’t listen to it because it didn’t fit the story he needed to tell. He needed S?ren imprisoned to use as a bargaining chip,” I say slowly. “And he’ll have an awful lot to gain by arresting me as well now, especially since most of the suitors have fled. He’s losing money.”

I’m thinking out loud, but I stop there, glancing at the attendant warily. My heart thunders in my chest even harder now than it did with Coltania standing over me. Heron glances at the attendant as well and the color drains from his face. His eyes meet mine and I know the same thought passes between us.

We need more time than we have and there is only one way to fix that.

Heron acts so swiftly I nearly miss it, aided by his Air Gift, no doubt. Before the attendant can even react, Heron has one arm around his neck, crushing the attendant’s windpipe. As the man struggles, he lets go of the crank, which causes the riser to come to a sharp stop that makes my stomach flip. The attendant is bigger than Heron and he fights against him hard, but a measure of peace comes over Heron’s face and he holds on tight until, finally, the man’s eyes close and he goes slack in Heron’s arms.

Heron doesn’t make the same mistake Coltania made with me, though—he doesn’t assume he’s unconscious just because he’s still.

“Can you handle the crank?” he asks me, keeping hold of the operator. “It should be easy, going down instead of up.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Instead, I focus on the crank. Even going down, it takes a lot of strength to turn it. I only make it two floors before Heron tells me to stop.

“We’ll get out here and take the stairs,” he says, finally letting go of the attendant’s body. He opens the gate and ushers me out.

It’s only then that I finally speak the thought that’s been nagging at me.

“King Etristo’s lost a lot of money on me,” I tell Heron. “The only way he can make it back is by selling S?ren and me to the Kaiser.”

Heron must have reached the same conclusion, because he doesn’t look surprised. “We have to leave now,” he says.

My heart thunders in my chest, but I manage to nod.

“Yes,” I say. “But not without S?ren.”

* * *

—

Artemisia is waiting in my room, sitting in a chair near the fireplace, when Heron and I hurry in. She turns to me, annoyed at first, but then she takes in my bloody clothing and panicked expression.

Before she can say a word, I tell her everything that happened since I left with Coltania only an hour ago. I’m surprised by how calm my voice sounds, even as I feel nothing but panic inside.

“What do we need, then?” Artemisia asks when I finish, her tone brisk. “Get S?ren. Send news to Blaise. The refugees—we’ll need to find enough ships to carry them. Food to feed them. Weapons to arm anyone who wants to fight.” She ticks the list off on her fingers and my stomach sinks lower with each task.

“There’s no time for all that,” I say, shaking my head. “We can’t do any of it—”

“Not so fast,” she interrupts. A smile spreads over her face, reaching all the way up to her eyes. It’s a rare smile from Artemisia, and every bit as frightening as she is. “Luckily for us, the Sta’Criveran harbor keeps many large trade ships filled with all sorts of things, but primarily food and weapons.”

“So all we have to do is march into the harbor and steal a bunch of ships,” Heron says slowly, looking at her like she’s mad. “There’s no way we’ll be able to do that. There are only three of us—five if we manage to get Blaise and free S?ren, and even that seems like a slim possibility at this point.”

“There will be five of us, with S?ren and Blaise,” Artemisia agrees. “But three of us are Guardians and it’s the dead of night.” She pauses, glancing between Heron and me. “It’s a mad plan, but it could work.”

“I can get S?ren if you can get Blaise and the ships,” I tell them. “Three thousand refugees. That was Erik’s estimate. How many ships will we need?”

Heron shakes his head. “We’d need a fleet, Theo,” he says, voice heavy. “I think even Art would agree that it won’t be possible.”

Artemisia does falter, but her lips purse and her brow furrows and I know that she has a ghost of a plan already.

“What if…,” Heron starts. “I know we don’t want to talk about it, but what if we don’t take all of the refugees. We would only be dragging them into a war most of them won’t be able to fight in. It would be dangerous—”

“Not as dangerous as staying here after King Etristo realizes I’ve gone—and stolen a fleet of his ships and the country’s cheapest workers in the process,” I point out. “He’ll kill them if we don’t take them. I won’t leave anyone behind, whether they want to fight or not. Art, what are you thinking?”

She lets out a low sigh, shaking her head. “There is one option, but it’s a risk that might backfire,” she warns. “We’d need my mother’s help and her crew.”

I shake my head. “She might well turn me over to King Etristo herself,” I say. With everything that’s happened, I almost forgot what I overheard him tell the Czar earlier. “She offered him Water Gems, in some capacity. That’s why he agreed to host me. Sta’Crivero is on the verge of a drought.”

For an instant, Artemisia looks like she’s going to deny it. But she can’t. She knows what her mother is capable of better than anyone. “We need her, Theo,” she says instead. “Or Heron is right. Our only chance is to leave two-thirds of the refugees behind.”

Frustration burns through me, blistering hot. Everything is falling apart and I can’t see a way out of this that I could happily take. I think of Coltania’s body in the garden. In a few hours, Sta’Criverans will be going up there for morning walks or to have breakfast and they will find her. They will find the guard in the elevator first. It won’t be long before he wakes up and King Etristo puts together the pieces. It won’t be long until I’m in that dungeon next to S?ren and the Kaiser is on his way to collect us both.

I was supposed to have more time, but there’s nothing to be done about that now.

“Come on, Art,” I say. “If I’m waking your mother up at this hour, I’m not doing it alone.”

* * *

—

When Dragonsbane answers her door, she looks ready to murder whoever is on the other side. In her white nightgown, with her hair in a frizzy cloud around her pillow-creased face, she doesn’t look anything like the Dragonsbane I’ve come to know and—if we’re being honest—fear.

I want to ask her about the Water Gems up front, but I hold my tongue. After all, I need her right now.

“There had better be a good reason for this,” she says, her sharp glare shifting between Artemisia and me.