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 Søren?” 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 Søren 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 Søren’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 Søren 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 Søren,” 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 Søren 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 Søren 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.”
“If you’re right, Søren won’t go along with it,” he says, his voice dropping.
My stomach twists into knots. Cress isn’t as sadistic as the Kaiser, I tell myself, but I’m not sure how true that is. She’s a broken girl, and I don’t know what she’s capable of anymore.
“He can hold up under torture,” I say, pushing the thoughts from my mind.
Torture. The word hangs between us, sharp and ugly, coloring everything. I feel sick at the thought of Søren being tortured—tortured because of me. Because I agreed to Cress’s terms and took her poison, even when Søren begged me not to.