And—perhaps—that she needed my help, just as I needed hers.

“The noorestones Paorah is bringing here are huge. Unstable. The explosive potential is devastating, and if he were to place these noorestones where they will cause secondary explosions . . .” I didn’t need to finish the thought. She already understood.

“But you would be able to prevent that,” she said, “using this ability you possess.”

I nodded.

“That is one possible solution to the threat he poses,” she murmured. “Another, simpler solution, is to ensure his noorestones never make land. If they detonate, then they do so aboard his own ships.”

“Then innocent people will die.”

“But they are not my people.” She turned and strode toward the dais and the giant skull next to it, moving at a faster pace than before. “Besides, can’t you prevent them from detonating on the ships? Your task is just as easily accomplished away from my shores.”

I stared at her, aghast.

“Hopebearer, you’ve said nothing to persuade me that I need your aid, and nothing to persuade me to come to yours.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes, I know why you came here. You want me to give you ships. You want to assume command over the arrangement I made with High Magistrate Paorah. It’s sweet that you want to help, but you’ve given me nothing my own spies haven’t. There is no bargain we could make that would outweigh the one I’ve made with him, and if he attempts to betray me, I will simply destroy him.”

What? That was it?

The empress reached her throne, adjusted her gown, and sat. “You are dismissed now, Mira Minkoba. Stay in the palace as my guest for a few more days. Enjoy Sunder. But we have nothing further to discuss.”

Fury filled me, but I kept it locked deep inside of me where she—and her guards—wouldn’t see it. How could anyone be so callous? The people of the Fallen Isles needed help, and she had so much. Couldn’t she spare just a little?

No. She hadn’t become an empress by being generous. For all her shows of magnanimity, it was just that: a show. It was a display of her wealth and power. Even her decision to take this meeting without an audience was part of that pretense of friendliness, of intimacy. There was nothing real in her except her desire to take from those of us who would soon have nothing. Our information. Our lives. Our dragons.

Dragons.

The first dragon’s skull stared at me, evaluating, commanding me to be worthy. If I was to be like her, able to entreat the gods on behalf of my people, I needed to be stronger.

“The dragons the high magistrate sent you—how are they? Healthy?”

Interest flashed in her pale eyes, but she said nothing.

“At the summit recently, he told everyone that he’d sent seven dragons to you—as a gesture of goodwill. But you should know that he also plundered the sanctuaries of the Fallen Isles, stealing dragons in the night. When people asked questions, he led them to believe that you were the one behind those thefts. He painted you as the villain of the Fallen Isles.” I glided forward now, my steps long and even. “He kept dozens of stolen dragons in first-century ruins above Flamecrest. I found them. I intended to free them. But what I discovered was sick, dying dragons.”