“Because no one goes into the Unspoken Mountains,” the one-eyed ranger said from Lady Iskara’s other side. “And if they do, they don’t come back.”

“No one?” Hector echoed. “Surely over the years someone has.”

The ranger shook her head. “There are stories that say when you venture too far into the mountains, voices call to you from afar. The ridges are blanketed in steam from underground thermal springs, and the steam hides deep chasms and caverns where travelers can fall, and if they don’t dash their heads against the sharp rocks then they get trapped and die.”

“Sounds promising,” Illya said drily.

“Or,” Hassan said, “it sounds like a convenient rumor to make sure no one ventured far enough into the mountains to find whatever—or whoever—didn’t want to be found.”

“Come on, Radka,” a younger ranger on the one-eyed woman’s other side said. “Stop scaring the guests. If they want to go offer themselves to the mountains, that’s their business!”

Anton’s stomach lurched at the thought of the danger he was dragging everyone into. This quest to find the other Prophets had started as a desperate gambit, and now they’d come so far, but Anton realized how much further there was to go. And seeing the destruction in his vision again only reminded him of how much they had to lose if they failed.

He looked across the table at Jude, who was talking to another of the rangers, and felt the weight of the secret he was keeping from him. From all of them.

Abruptly, he stood from the table, making a flimsy excuse to Lady Iskara, and left the hall through a different set of doors. They led him out into a stone courtyard, dotted with crooked trees that drew jagged shadows in the moonlight.

A moment later, he heard footsteps behind him and felt the familiar storm of Jude’s esha brush up against his own. He closed his eyes, steadying himself with a breath before he turned around.

“Is it your turn to lecture me about risking my life?” Anton asked, venturing a smile.

Jude shook his head mutely.

“Telling them who I am was the right thing to do,” Anton said. “You know it was.”

“I’m not arguing with you about this,” Jude said flatly.

“Because you know I’m right.”

“Because you’re trying to pick a fight instead of telling me what’s really wrong,” Jude shot back.

Anton’s retort died on his tongue. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it, but Jude was right.

“Something happened when we were separated after Behezda,” Jude said haltingly. “Something you’ve been keeping from me.”

Anton’s stomach dropped.

“You said that I could talk to you,” Jude pushed on. “That you wanted me to tell you what I was feeling, even if you wouldn’t like it. So why don’t you trust me with the same?”