“So when she offered me poison,” I say slowly, bringing my eyes back to Straya, “she gave me her blood.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she says. “I believe so. It wasn’t as strong as what lives inside the mines, you understand. Nadia told me that it’s easier to survive the blood poison than the full Encatrio, that there was a time some centuries back when survivors of full Encatrio would sell their blood to those who hoped to attain gifts with less risk than they’d face in the mines. I believe your great-grandmother outlawed the practice.”
“That’s why it wasn’t as strong, why it didn’t kill you,” Artemisia says to me.
“I thought it was because of you,” I say, looking at her. “Because of how you counteracted it.”
“Perhaps it was both,” Artemisia says.
“It would explain other things as well,” I add, giving her a meaningful look. I’m not keen on sharing my dream with anyone else.
Artemisia still doesn’t look convinced, but there’s doubt in her eyes now.
“Thank you, Straya. You’ve been more helpful than you can imagine,” I say.
Straya nods and stands up, smoothing down the cotton shift she wears. Just as she reaches the tent flap, though, she pauses. “Your Majesty?” she asks, looking back at me over her shoulder.
“Yes?” I say.
“Nadia would have rather taken chains than death, but she was braver than me,” she says quietly. “Perhaps it makes me a coward, but if the Kalovaxians try to take me again, I would sooner die.”
“It won’t come to that,” I assure her, though it’s a promise I don’t know if I can keep. “And I said the same thing during the battle. Would you call me a coward?”
“No,” she says quickly. “Of course not. I only meant—”
“There are different kinds of bravery, Straya. Your ancestors are watching you from the After with pride today, and when the day comes for you to join them, they will welcome you with open arms. But that day will not come for a while yet if I have anything to say about it.”
Straya ducks her head toward me. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” she says, before leaving Artemisia and me alone in the tent.
“You drank her blood,” she says after a moment of quiet.
Hearing her say it out loud makes me nauseous. “Yes,” I say.
There is a part of Cress in me now, one I don’t think I will ever be rid of. The blood pumped by her heart is inside of me, as much a part of me now as it was of her. Heart’s sisters indeed.
“That doesn’t mean you’re truly sharing dreams,” Art says, but she doesn’t sound as certain about that as she did earlier today.
“We don’t know what it means,” I remind her. “But we do know that Cress has an endless supply of Encatrio quite literally at her fingertips. And she’s aware of that.”
“If that theory holds, then so do you,” Art points out.
The thought hadn’t occurred to me, but it strikes me now like a bolt of lightning. The blood in my veins suddenly feels hotter, fizzling with a dangerous energy. I rub my hands over my arms to smooth the goose bumps that have arisen.
“If the theory holds, mine would be weaker,” I point out. “Besides, I won’t use it.”
At that, Artemisia snorts. “Come now, Theo,” she says. “There’s no need to play the pure and righteous queen, not with me. We both know that when it comes down to it, you’ll use whatever weapon you have.”
The thought unsettles me, but I’m not sure it’s untrue.
“There’s something else,” I say, recalling the memory from the mine. When I ask Artemisia about it, she bites her lip.
“Everyone I’ve spoken to who came out of the mine changed said the same thing,” she tells me. “At first, we remembered nothing, but over time, three memories returned.” She holds up three fingers. “Three tests we passed. That must have been your first.”
Three tests. I remember my mother’s presence beside me in the garden, how impossible it felt to tear myself away from her. If that was only the first test, I can’t imagine what others could have followed. But whatever they were, I must have passed them, or I wouldn’t be here now.
“And what were your tests?” I ask Art.
Pain flickers across her face. “You told me one of yours, so I’ll tell you one of mine,” she says, her voice tight. “You had to walk away from your mother. I walked away from my brother. Sometimes I swear I can still feel his small hands tugging at the hem of my tunic. Sometimes I still hear his voice begging me to stay with him.”
I don’t know what to say to that, but after a second, Artemisia shakes her head.
“We all had to make difficult decisions, Theo,” she says, her voice suddenly soft. “But I’ll say this—the first test is the easiest. They’ll only get harder. But you passed them; you’re here. Remember that.”
WE ABANDON CAMP JUST AS the sun sets over the Calodean Sea, our group of warriors winding along the Dalzia mountain range by foot and on horse.
Dragonsbane isn’t one for goodbyes. When Art and I went to find her before leaving, she had already gone, taking a sizable chunk of her crew with her, along with Sandrin and the refugees who can’t or don’t want to fight. Though I don’t think either of us is surprised, I can see the disappointment lingering in Art’s eyes.
“It wasn’t goodbye this time, not really,” I remind her. “We’ll see her again soon enough, after she’s taken the Earth Mine.”
Artemisia nods, but her expression remains guarded, and it isn’t until we’re riding away that I realize why that is: she doesn’t really know if she’ll see her mother again. None of us do. This is war. A million things can happen before it’s done and only the gods can know for sure how it will end.
We don’t stop riding for the night until the full moon is high in the sky. Though the thought of stopping at all makes my skin itch and my mind whirl with possibilities of being caught, I know that we can’t get much farther without at least a few hours of rest.
My small tent is only big enough for a bedroll, two pillows to sit on, and a red lacquer tray that must have been taken from the commandant’s office. The tent is just the right size for sleeping and eating, though I can’t seem to do much of either. The hardtack and dried venison that served as dinner sit untouched on the tray, and my bedroll is still neatly made. Instead I sit on one of the pillows with my legs crossed and the hastily drawn map of the Water Mine that Artemisia sketched spread out on my lap.