I couldn’t imagine Paorah frightened, and I didn’t think she believed that, either. “Your Eminence, the high magistrate is a proud and ambitious man. Perhaps he does fear you, but he won’t be content simply defending himself. He must solidify his power over the remains of the Fallen Isles, and that will require more action than taking a handful of people to safety. No, he must destroy in order to build something new. He sees it as his duty to his goddess—a duty that just so happens to benefit him.”

“He would not be content to settle here?”

“He worships the goddess of destruction, the trickster.” I looked at her, a sharp, dark profile against the pale room. “In the Fallen Isles, we have a saying: Anahera asks answers. She’s always several steps ahead of the rest of us. Her people tend to be clever. Some would say they tend to be schemers. High Magistrate Paorah is smart, manipulative, and a devout believer in destruction. Though Anahera cautions her people to carefully consider the consequences, Paorah will destroy whatever he must to further his own goals.”

Now she did look at me, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. “Anahera teaches the eternal cycle.”

“Benevolent destruction is what they call it.” My thoughts tried to flicker back to the passage in The Book of Destruction I’d read on the skimmer den—It is sacrifice that enables change—but I pushed aside my own fears. I needed to focus on this. Here. Now.

“Ah.” She kept walking, and I had the sense that she was thinking deeply, weighing every word she spoke, every tone she took. We reached the double doors and the boy who’d announced me, then turned to walk up the other side of the chamber. The guards watched us without watching us, standing as still as the statues. Maybe they were statues, and they were yet another example of imperial power.

Questions teetered on the edge of my tongue. I wanted to ask about their magic, the images of the Upper Gods lining her grand hall, why she’d arranged for this meeting without an audience, and how she’d come to possess the bones of the first dragon, but everyone had warned me against voicing too much curiosity, and—even if I wouldn’t bow to the empress—that was one of Alusha’s many rules I could follow. Besides, I didn’t want to accidentally reveal anything secret through my questions.

The first dragon grew in the back of my thoughts, ever more present.

“Nine also reports that you possess the ability to forestall High Magistrate Paorah’s attack.” It was said without question, but hinted at one nonetheless.

“As long as his attack comes by noorestone. I have no armies of my own.”

The empress looked at me, her expression inscrutable. “Do you not?”

“Not as far as I’m aware.” My thoughts fluttered back to my dreams, filled with images of the dishonored, great wings of dragons, and young girls floating in the middle of the ocean. “Even if I did have anything that could be called an army, yours is more than adequate to defend this coast from any army Paorah could muster. As Nine said, it would be little more than an inconvenience for you to retake Sunder or any other coastal city. And he doesn’t have the strength to take them from you to begin with—not without those noorestones.”