The soldiers I’d sent to the north-eastern reaches had been forced to retreat, letting yet another island fall to the constructs. Nearly all of the men and women I’d sent had been killed. Reports from the battlefield spoke of monstrous war constructs, of the dead joining in battle. The few soldiers who’d returned all said the same thing: the construct army was growing.

Two more islands and they’d be at a good jumping-off point to attack Gaelung. If Gaelung fell, the Empire would be irrevocably weakened.

I swallowed as I settled onto the bench at one of the tables, my throat aching. I couldn’t just concern myself with guarding the people who saw themselves as important. I’d made that mistake here and my handmaiden was paying the price for it. I think that was the worst thing about being Emperor: I never seemed to be the one my poor decisions cost the most. I folded the letter back up and laid it on the table. “I shouldn’t have kept soldiers in reserve. We need to send the rest of our army to the north-east. Now. I’ll write to Ikanuy and to the governor of Gaelung. Gaelung is large enough to host them and we have an established trade route there. Supply lines will be easy to maintain.”

“And Unta?” Jovis said, his voice deceptively light. “People will panic – more than they already are.”

“You were right.” I hated to admit it. “We need to shut down the mines. My father’s notes imply there’s a connection to the sinking. He shut down the mine on Imperial once he realized what might happen.” How like him not to care about the implications for the rest of the Empire. I stood at a tipping point. The mines provided a large source of income for many of the governors. I needed their support to push back the construct army. And witstone facilitated trade among the islands. Without continued mining, everyone’s stores of witstone would eventually run out. Trade would grind to a halt. Caro nuts would be even harder to come by.

At the same time, the sinking of Unta had sobered me. “Scaffolding” the old Emperor had said. If what he’d suspected was true, then we were slowly chipping away at the very foundations that held us afloat in the Endless Sea.

“I’ll send out a proclamation telling everyone to halt production of witstone and any further mine development. That the witstone keeps us afloat and mining it is what’s causing the islands to sink.” I had to speak with authority, or no one would obey.

“They won’t be happy with that,” Jovis said. “People will want proof. They’ll say you’re making it up. They won’t want to believe it.”