“You think we’re going to survive?” Claw, a gnomish woman from Cave crew, cackled. “We’ve little food and no way of getting more. We’re all going to die here.”

Serina crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the sharp pain that radiated through her torso. “No, we’re not. The next boat of prisoners is due in a week, maybe two. There will be rations on it. We can overpower the guards, take the food for ourselves. We can use the ship to escape.…”

Her voice faded. Except where would they go? And what about Nomi?

Anika tilted her head. “Didn’t the guards have their own boats? Why can’t we use those? We can leave now, get off this rock, and go back to our families.”

“My family sent me here!” someone shouted.

“There are no boats.” Val raised his voice over the building din. “This island was punishment for the guards too. Even Commander Ricci. We all disappointed the Superior in some way—too ruthless, not ruthless enough. He sent all his failed soldiers here. We weren’t allowed boats, not even for an emergency evacuation. The ships that arrive with prisoners are our only contact with the outside world.”

He glanced at Serina, a question in his eyes.

She knew what he was asking. Val had a boat, a secret he’d hidden for years. They’d planned to use it to escape, to go back to Bellaqua and try to rescue Nomi. With one discreet shake of her head, he would hold his tongue. The boat would remain a secret, and Serina’s best chance at reuniting with her sister.

Yesterday, she’d been prepared to leave, but she’d found she couldn’t abandon Jacana, who’d been helping her look for a way off the island. Now Jacana was dead. Serina hadn’t been able to save her. There was nothing to keep her here, nothing to stop her from taking Val’s boat and going to save her sister.

Nothing except for the women of Mount Ruin. Those dead, like Jacana and Oracle, whom she’d promised to avenge. And those living, whom she’d promised herself she’d try to save.

Serina couldn’t sneak away in a secret boat and leave these women. Not even for Nomi. She would get her sister out of the Heir’s clutches, out from under the cold, watchful eye of the Superior. But not like this.

“There is one boat on the island,” she said, still meeting Val’s gaze. He nodded a little, but his brows drew together, sharing her sadness. “But it’s small, only big enough for two or three people. Still, it may be of use.”

“And how do you know about this boat?” Anika asked, her eyes narrowing.