“And it seems you have all of the oafishness of an ogre,” Artemisia retorts.

Maile’s brow furrows. “What’s an ogre?” she asks, before shaking her head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. Do you want coffee or not? It’s quite hot, so if you don’t mind taking a cup.”

Artemisia rolls her eyes and takes two cups, passing one to me. “Don’t expect a thank-you,” she tells Maile matter-of-factly. “We may like coffee, but we still don’t like you.”

Maile looks at me. “Is she always so rude?” she asks.

“I don’t know what you mean. She’s being awfully polite by her standards,” I say with a shrug, bringing the coffee to my lips and taking a small sip. It’s steaming hot, with a touch of cinnamon to cut the bitterness. Milk is a luxury we don’t have, but the coffee is still good without it. “If Artemisia really didn’t like you, she’d introduce you to her sword. We don’t seem to be there yet.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Artemisia says, before walking back around to the collapsed tent to continue packing, sipping at her coffee as she goes.

Maile watches her go and then looks back at me.

“I think I’m justified in my hatred of Kalovaxians and my mistrust of those who share their blood,” she says. “Besides, the Emperor was fighting with them when they attacked Vecturia.”

That catches me off guard. I’ve thought about the battle at Vecturia often, even held it against S?ren for leading his army there and taking countless Vecturian lives. I knew Erik took part in that battle as well, but I hadn’t really connected it to him. I certainly hadn’t connected it to Maile. Suddenly her behavior toward Erik makes more sense. It isn’t an excuse, but I understand her a bit better.

“In many ways, Erik was as much a prisoner of the Kalovaxians as I was,” I tell her. “Not following orders would have cost him his life, and there was also the risk that the Kaiser would take it out on his mother.”

Maile is unmoved. “He’s a traitor,” she says. “He was a traitor to the Kalovaxians, and now he’s a traitor to you.”

I can’t argue with that, so instead I force myself to nod. “I don’t mean to defend him. I’m just telling you what I know,” I say.

“I’d also rather you didn’t leave me out of any strategy meetings in the future. My father sent me here because I’ve proven my worth in battle, more so than any of my siblings. I can help,” she says, her tone sour.

“I hope so,” I tell her. “But Artemisia is right—thus far, you’ve done very little to show that. Mostly you’ve put everyone on edge.”

Maile doesn’t say anything for a moment, looking down at the coffee in her hands.

“I don’t like that my father sent me here,” she says finally. “I don’t like that he sent his strongest warriors to help you when it’s left us defenseless against any outside attacks. I want the Kalovaxians gone, too, but this isn’t our war. We have our own problems. I don’t have my father’s sense of honor or his sentimentality.”

“I didn’t ask him for help. He offered it,” I tell her. It had been a way to repay me for sending Dragonsbane to protect Vecturia against S?ren’s army, a way to make up for the fact that when Astrea was besieged by the Kalovaxians all those years ago, he chose not to help.

“I know that,” she says. “I’m only saying that it wouldn’t have been my choice. But I’m here now and I’ve got warriors invested in this fight, and I intend to do everything in my power to ensure that I get them home as quickly and safely as possible.”

“Then we’re on the same side,” I say. “And with the Prinz gone, we need as many strategic minds as we can get. It was largely to his credit that we were able to take the Fire Mine with as few casualties as we did. Whatever you might think of him—and you’re certainly entitled to your opinions—his advice was invaluable.”

Maile shrugs that off. “Prinz S?ren can do a lot with a large army. I won’t deny that. But it doesn’t impress me. He has the numbers and the weapons and every other advantage. I managed to hold him off with less on every front. We’ll discuss strategy more tonight, I’m assuming,” she says.

I nod. “Considering the fact that we didn’t land on any concrete plans last night, we’ll have to.”

“Bring me in, then,” she says. “I’ll do what I can to help, and I’m sure you’ll find me at least as valuable as he was.”

“Fine,” I say. “But if you pick any more fights, I’m not going to defend you.”

“I don’t need you to,” she says. “But with the Kalovaxians all gone, I can’t imagine that will be an issue.”

Erik isn’t Kalovaxian, I want to protest, but I have to hold my tongue, so I merely nod.

“I thought she was a strange choice of guard,” Maile says, glancing over my shoulder to where Artemisia is loading up the horse’s saddlebags with one hand, holding her cup of coffee in the other. I certainly couldn’t do both at once, but she manages it with an enviable amount of grace. “She doesn’t look tough enough to hold off a swarm of wasps, let alone a human assassin. But I have to admit she’s surprisingly ferocious.”

Artemisia doesn’t respond but her shoulders go stiff, and I know she heard Maile.

“If you want to find out how ferocious she is,” I tell Maile, “by all means, keep acting like a condescending ass. Though it would be in your best interests to wait until she’s not holding a cup of scalding liquid.”

For a beat, Maile looks genuinely concerned. Then she shakes her head. When she walks away, I think I hear her laughing under her breath.

“I don’t like her,” Artemisia says when Maile is out of earshot.

“Neither do I,” I say. “But she’s right—we need her.”

IT TAKES THREE DAYS TO make the trek to the Perea Forest. Three mornings of training with Blaise. Three nights of arguing with Maile, Artemisia, and Heron about what to do when we actually arrive at the Water Mine. The rest of our troops are lying in wait in the cover of the forest, but our numbers won’t be enough to take the mine with pure force—at least, not without heavy losses that we can’t afford.

It would help if we had a better idea of what to expect, but the more anyone tries to push Artemisia for details about the mine, the more frustrated she gets.

“I never thought I would be back there,” she finally snaps. “When I eventually left, I tried to put it as far from my mind as possible.”

The only plan we come to agree upon is a flimsy one: hit their weak spots as hard as we can.

We stop at the place where the Perea Forest meets Lake Culane, giving our horses a chance to drink, a couple at a time, while the rest of the army takes cover in the woods. From the shaded shore, I can just make out the walls of the camp and the Water Mine on the other side of the lake. Unlike at the Fire Mine, these walls are made of sheets of cold metal—iron, if I had to hazard a guess. It seems to be the Kalovaxians’ metal of choice when gold is too impractical. The walls don’t look particularly strong, but when I mention as much to Art, she shakes her head.

“That isn’t what they’re there for. There was no wall around the Fire Mine because it was better protection against fire magic to have miles of sand around it. The wall isn’t here to shield from attacks from outside—it’s there to smother the water magic of those within.”

She stands barefoot, ankle-deep in the lake, the cuffs of her trousers rolled up to below her knees. It’s astonishing the change the water has made in her. Summoning water for horses and humans alike took its toll, making her tired and crankier than usual, but now the life has come back to her. She looks at peace, though peace is never something I would have associated with Art.

“At least we still have the element of surprise,” she says. “If word had reached them, they would have a patrol out. But they don’t expect an attack, certainly not from this direction.”

“It’s too bad we can’t approach from this direction,” I say, frowning. I cross my arms over my chest and survey the lake. “But we don’t have the boats for it and we can’t get the ships from the ocean here.”

“No,” Artemisia agrees with a sigh. “But if we could, it would make things an awful lot simpler.”

“Simpler would be a nice change of pace,” I say.

“But what about the risk? The complex plans that don’t fall into place until a moment before it’s too late? Admit it, you would miss that,” she says wryly.

I snort. “I really wouldn’t,” I tell her. “I honestly thought we would have figured something out by now. We’re here, the rest of our troops have gone unnoticed, but we still don’t know how to attack.”

“Never tell S?ren I said this, but he knew what he was doing,” she says. “He was useful in that, at least.”

I glance sideways at her. “You say that like we’re going to see him again,” I say.

She pauses. “I hope we do. Has there been any word from Erik?”