Page 112 of Ship of Smoke and Steel

“What choice do we have?”

“There has to be a way,” Meroe says. “We just have to find it.”

“We’re not in charge of everyone.” I wave a hand vaguely. “That’s the Council’s job.”

“Are they doing it?”

“I—”

She crosses her arms, as though that were a conclusive argument. I sigh and run my fingers through my hair.

“Look,” I say. “I know you were raised in a palace. But things are different in the real world. You’re not responsible for everyone.”

“It’s not about being responsible,” Meroe says. I expect her to be angry, but she’s not, which honestly makes me irritated. “It’s about helping people when you have the ability to help them.”

“But—” I grit my teeth. “We don’t have the ability to help them. If Hagan is right and the Scholar can’t turn the ship, then people are going to die no matter what we do.”

“How many people would fit in the Garden?”

“How many…” I stop. “You’re not serious.”

“How many?” Her tone is gentle, but firm.

“I have no idea!” I’m shouting now. “Hagan said it would protect everyone who gets there, but I don’t know if he meant everyone.”

“Still. It’s the best chance they have.”

“Except that there’s no way we’ll be able to convince them to go. The Scholar barely got the Council to agree to send me. They’re not going to pack all this up and haul it across the ship.”

“Forget the Council,” Meroe says. “Just talk to the crew. Tell them the truth. If they choose to follow you, the Council won’t be able to stop them.”

“How exactly am I supposed to do that when I’m stuck in a cell?”

“At a public event where nearly everyone will be watching,” Meroe says.

The penny drops. “Like if I were to fight the Butcher, you mean.”

“Like that, for example.” She grins.

“Rot.” I stare at her. “You really mean it. You want to help everyone.”

“Someone has to.”

I want to—I don’t know. Yell at her until she realizes how insane this plan is. Lie to her, tell her I’ll do it, then tie her up and drag her off with me and the Scholar and leave everyone else to burn.

Kiss her. Because she’s a better person than I could ever hope to be.

Then she looks at the floor, and all the certainty drains out of her face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I…” She swallows. “Be honest with me. Can you beat her?”

“The Butcher?”

She nods. “I realized I just assumed you could do it. I think I’d believe you can do anything. But…” Meroe shakes her head. “Please, Isoka. Don’t just tell me everything will be all right. If you—if something happens to you, then it’s all for nothing. Can you?”

This is my way out, I realize. If I want it. If I say I think the fight is hopeless, then I’ll be able to talk Meroe down, get her to come with us. We’ll be safe. Maybe.