Everyone stilled, because they had been wondering, but by now they knew better than to ask too many questions.

“The remaining ships,” Paorah said, “will carry our armies.”

Shock pulsed through the chamber, and I looked at Nine, finding only masked fury.

If the high magistrate had indeed made a deal with the empress, he had lied to her.

He had ten giant noorestones.

He’d almost had dozens of large dragons.

And somewhere—maybe here, maybe Khulan—he had armies?

“This is madness,” said one of the tribunal. “A true warrior does not seek conflict.”

“But,” said the high magistrate, “is always prepared for it.” He smiled cruelly. “I know your book as well as mine. And let us not pretend that the empress is taking us in out of the goodness of her heart. Even skilled and wealthy, we will be refugees. No, she will take something from us, and it will be our independence. We must be prepared to fight for it.”

He wasn’t looking out for our independence. He intended to attack the empire and seize it for himself.

It was a bold plan. An arrogant plan. Paorah would take select people of the Fallen Isles from the certain death of the Great Abandonment . . . to the certain death of war.

No one spoke, though. No one could speak.

My mind whirled. The idea of chasing a war with the very empire the Mira Treaty had been meant to protect us against . . . It was unthinkable.

“Now”—Paorah’s shoulders rose with a sharp, indrawn breath—“I’ve provided lunch. My chefs have prepared sweet cloudfish rolls, which I’m sure you will all enjoy. But first, there’s one more thing we must take care of.”

People shifted in their seats, as though they could sense something terrible about to happen, but they didn’t know the true lengths he was willing to go to in order to achieve his goals. They didn’t know what a monster he was.

He looked at the First Matriarch and smiled. “Eka, you were concerned that we had nothing concrete to replace the Mira Treaty. Fear not: another document has been drawn up, and I’d like to go over the details with you all this afternoon. But before we can sign a new document, we must put aside the old one.” He nodded toward a pair of guards stationed at the door he’d come through earlier.

As the door opened, everyone quieted and stretched to see what was coming through.

Aaru and I were at the back of the room, on the far side from the door, so I caught only flashes of red. Then, when those in the front finally began to sit, I could see a fuller view of the floor—but my mind refused to accept the facts.

It was the gown that struck me first: ruby-red silk, which slid across a young woman’s body like scales. I knew that gown. It was mine. The last time I’d seen it, I’d been trying to kill the person wearing it.