“You’ll rain Pallas’s forces down on us,” Penrose said. “I know. That’s why we’re going to fight.”

“The Witnesses have Grace now. They’re not going to be defeated so easily,” Hector said. “And the Paladin who’ve joined him know the secrets of this fort.”

“I know,” Penrose said. “I know all of that.”

“Then why—”

“To buy us time,” Jude said, before Penrose could. “That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t even expect to defeat Pallas’s forces. You just want to delay them as long as you can to give us a head start.”

Penrose nodded.

“People will die,” Anton said.

“Then they’ll die for their cause,” Penrose said. “For their Prophet.”

“I don’t like this,” Anton said.

“You don’t have to,” Penrose replied. “This is what the Order of the Last Light was created for. This is why we swear our oaths.”

Anton knew that better than Penrose. The Order was just the Prophets’ cannon fodder if their mistakes ever came back to bite them. And the Keeper was supposed to lead the charge.

“Penrose…” Jude began, sounding pained. But then all he said was, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Penrose replied. “Just do what you came here to do. Stop the Age of Darkness. Whatever it takes.”

Anton’s stomach dropped. This—all of this—was only happening because Anton already knew he couldn’t do whatever it took.

“We’ll need to give everyone time to prepare,” Penrose said. “Can you scry tonight?”

Anton nodded, the weight of his guilt clenching his gut.

“Then we’ll do it at sundown,” Penrose said. “And we’ll get everyone who’s leaving out before then.”

Anton nodded.

Another Paladin approached, drawing Penrose into conversation about logistics. Her gaze flicked back to Anton and Jude, and she gave a nod, dismissing them.

“We should go tell the others,” Jude said, a grim set to his mouth.

Already, Anton missed the more relaxed and lighthearted Jude from this morning. He longed to comfort him but knew the guilt weighing down his chest would make anything he had to offer ring hollow.

“I’ll go with you,” Hector volunteered.

“I should find the Wanderer,” Anton said.

Jude nodded, but his lingering gaze told Anton he would’ve preferred they stay together. He had to force himself to walk off toward the distant chime of the Wanderer’s esha.

He found her outside the Tribunal Chambers, gazing up at the statue of Temara that guarded its entrance. Anton’s heart broke a little at the far-off expression on her face.

“You know, they really couldn’t capture her face quite right,” she said lightly, without turning to look at him.