“I need you there,” I tell him, frustration rising in my chest, hot and stifling.

“No,” he says. “You don’t.”

For a moment, words fail me. This is not how I imagined our reunion. “I thought you would at least be glad I’m not dead,” I tell him finally.

He looks at me like I hit him. “Of course I am, Theo,” he says. “Every moment you were down there, I begged the gods to let you come back, and I will be thanking them for the rest of my life that you’re standing here now.”

“I won’t apologize for going into that mine,” I say. “I knew what I was doing and I knew the risk of it, but it was worth it for Astrea. You must have thought so, too, when you ran into that battle.”

“For you,” he says, the words as sharp as daggers. “I love Astrea—don’t misunderstand me—but when I stood on the bow of that ship and pushed myself to the edge, when I ran into that battle knowing I might not come out again—I did those things for you.”

The words are both weapons and caresses, but the anger in them adds fuel to my own fury. “If it were truly for me, you would have listened when I told you not to do it,” I say.

He shakes his head. “You have a blind spot with me,” he says, his voice colder than I’ve ever heard it. “Your judgment is flawed. Heron and Artemisia and even the prinkiti would have told me to do the same thing. I did what you would never be able to ask me to do, and I am not going to apologize for that, either. When the world turns on its head and I’m not sure of anything, I’m sure of you. No matter where we are or who we fight against, I am always fighting for you. And you are always fighting for Astrea, above all else.”

I stumble back a step.

“You can’t hold that against me,” I say, my voice low. “What kind of queen would I be if I put you—put anyone, anything—above Astrea?”

He shakes his head, the anger sapped from him. “Of course I don’t hold it against you, Theo,” he says quietly. “I’m just telling you where I stand.”

There’s nothing I can say to that, nothing that will change his mind, nothing that will make either of us feel better. After a moment, he speaks again.

“You don’t need me to discuss strategy. You’ll have Art for that, and Dragonsbane, and the leaders of the other countries. You want me there as a comfort, but you don’t need comfort anymore. You don’t need me, but Laius and Griselda do.”

The words feel like thorns digging beneath my skin, and I leave before I say something I will truly regret. As I step back into the sunlight and close the door behind me, though, I wonder if it was the words themselves that hurt so badly or the truth behind them.

THE LAST TIME I WAS in the old commandant’s office was with S?ren, Cress, and the Kaiser, and even though it has been cleaned since then, the echoes of what happened remain. The mahogany desk still bears a line of charred wood from when Cress dragged her finger over it. There is ash trapped in the grain of the wooden chair the Kaiser sat in; there is a burnt red stain on the rug from the poisoned wine I drank. There are some things no amount of cleaning can get rid of. We should raze the building to the ground, I think, when we leave.

I could have happily gone the rest of my life without setting foot in this room again, but the seclusion and the desk and the array of maps of Astrea and the rest of the world make it the best place to discuss strategy. Still, I have trouble tearing my gaze away from the stain on the rug.

“It’s a simple exchange, Thora. Your death, or your people’s.”

All over again, I feel the poison burn its way down my throat, obliterating thoughts of everything else but the heat, the pain. Again, I see Cress standing over me, her gaze distant but curious as she watches me writhe in agony, the same way she used to look at a translation she was having trouble with.

She thinks I’m dead now. What will she do when she finds out I’m not? Maybe we are on something of an even field now, but one thing hasn’t changed—she didn’t hesitate to try to kill me herself, and I couldn’t do the same to her when I had the chance. That alone is enough to frighten me.

“Theo,” a voice says, jerking me out of my thoughts. I tear my gaze away from the wine stain to find Dragonsbane perched on the corner of the desk, legs crossed in a way that might look prim if she were anyone else. I know better than to expect any sort of grand reunion with her, but she does give me a small nod that I take to mean she’s glad I’m alive.

Erik and Sandrin, the Astrean elder from the Sta’Criveran refugee camp, are there as well, along with a girl who is quickly introduced as Maile of Vecturia, Chief Kapil’s youngest daughter and, from the look of her, the opposite of her solemn, peace-minded father. Though they share the same tan skin and long, black hair, Maile has an angrier set to her jaw and a permanent glare that makes her look as if she is constantly contemplating punching someone.

In the coming days, Sandrin and Dragonsbane will leave by sea to bring the Astreans who can’t or don’t wish to fight to safety. That seems to be all that can be agreed upon.

“We can’t stay here much longer,” I say when I’m all caught up. “The Kaiserin will send an army here any day now, if one isn’t already on the way.”

Maile laughs, looking at the others. “She spends two weeks wandering around in the dark, only to deliver us a warning so obvious that a child could have sussed it out,” she says before looking at me again. “What exactly did you imagine we were doing while you were going mad in the mine?”

“I didn’t go mad,” I say sharply. “And from what I’ve heard, you did little in my absence besides squabble among yourselves.”

“The bulk of our troops have gone off to retake the cities along the Savria River. But as soon as we agree on a plan to take the capital, they’ll rejoin us,” Erik says from his place leaning against the stone wall near the door. He doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to any of us, instead focusing on cutting away the skin of an apple with a small knife the size of his thumb.

Maile scoffs. “The capital,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re still on about that foolish plan.”

It is a foolish plan. I know that, and I’d imagine deep down, Erik does as well. But with his mother so recently taken from him and the life he knew completely upheaved, S?ren is the only family he has left, the only familiar thing in a strange and frightening world. I can’t hold his foolishness against him—I can only hope he’ll see it for what it is.

“Taking the Earth Mine is a foolish plan, too. That was yours, wasn’t it?” I say instead, tracing my finger along the route we would need to take to reach it, the one that passes several large cities and towns, any of whom would send word to Cress as soon as they spotted us. We might as well send her a letter ourselves, announcing our intentions.

Maile grunts but doesn’t reply. I look up at Dragonsbane. “What are your thoughts, Aunt? I have a hard time believing you don’t have plenty of opinions. Please share them.”

Dragonsbane purses her lips. “Maile is right, in a sense,” she says after a moment. “Every type of Guardian has their strengths, of course, but in terms of battle…if we could liberate the Earth Mine, any Guardians we add to our numbers will have the strength of twenty ungifted soldiers,” she says before tilting her head to one side thoughtfully. “But you’re right, too, Theo. The Kaiserin would undoubtedly be alerted and would meet us there with the brunt of her forces. We wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Those are our opinions,” I say. “What is yours?”

Dragonsbane traces her finger along the map, from the Fire Mine to Doraz. “Empress Giosetta owes me quite a significant favor,” she says. “She has agreed to take in the Astrean refugees until the war has been won. But perhaps she can be persuaded to lend us some of her troops as well. Perhaps I could take those troops around this way.” She traces from Doraz down to the east coast of Astrea, where the Earth Mine is. “It’s still a day’s journey inland, but the chances of our being spotted go down significantly. Especially if you are causing the Kaiserin problems elsewhere.”

I nod. “And can you persuade Giosetta?” I ask, remembering the empress from Sta’Crivero. She was one of the better suitors I met there, but she’s still a ruler with her own needs and interests. I doubt she will give us troops out of the goodness of her heart.

Dragonsbane considers this. “After the siege of the Fire Mine, you’ve become a less risky investment, and there are many who would be glad to see the Kalovaxians brought to ruin—Giosetta among them. She grew up near the Gorakian border, you know. She saw the Kalovaxians lay waste to that land, saw the echoes of it. She’ll need compensation, of course, but it’s not an impossibility.”