“I didn’t know what was being done to him, though I’m assuming all of you did,” I say, keeping my voice calm and level as I glance between Artemisia and Blaise. Heron won’t look at me—he hasn’t since we left Seven in the brig—and I don’t particularly want to look at him either. Blaise glances down, guilt written all over his face, but Artemisia holds my gaze, unabashed.
“We knew that if you found out, you would do something stupid. And alas, here you are, wanting to do something stupid,” she intones.
Outside of Dragonsbane’s presence, she’s prickly as ever, and as much as her words bristle, I’m glad to have her back.
“Who are we if we let him stay there?” I ask them. “How are we any different from the Kalovaxians if we act just like them? I’ve been in his position, only treated better.
