Jude held him, his hands carefully cradling Anton’s face, wiping at his tears. “That means no more keeping things from me,” he warned, lips brushing Anton’s temple.

Anton leaned into the kiss. “No more,” he vowed.

He would have been content to stay there, leaning against Jude, basking in the relief of this secret finally being shared between them, of his worst fears disappearing in the face of Jude’s faith in the both of them.

But the sound of voices yelling behind them startled them from their moment of peace.

Jude was on his feet and sprinting back toward camp in a flash, Anton scrambling after him. Ahead, he could see Beru crouched in front of the ashes of last night’s fire, smoke rising from the ground around her. Ephyra was in front of her, yelling something at Hassan, who was several paces away, one arm wrapped around Khepri. Hector was on Beru’s other side, his hands up as he edged slowly toward her like one would approach a spooked animal.

“What’s going on?” Jude demanded.

Hassan turned toward him and Anton. “She almost killed Khepri,” he said, a bite of anger in his tone.

“Hassan, I’m fine,” Khepri said placatingly.

“I’m sorry,” Beru said. There was something strangely hollow about her voice. “She startled me.”

“So you almost set her on fire?” Hassan demanded.

“It was an accident,” Ephyra protested.

Hassan glared at her. “She’s losing control of the god. That thing is dangerous! We can’t keep pretending—”

“She’s not a thing. She’s my sister,” Ephyra said fiercely.

“That’s not your sister, and you know it,” Hassan replied. His gaze locked on Hector. “You both do. You’ve been keeping it from us.”

“Is that true?” Jude asked. Ephyra and Hector exchanged a glance.

“We weren’t—” Ephyra began.

“We all know Beru is fighting to keep the god contained,” Illya spoke as he emerged from his tent. “Don’t pretend like that’s news to you, Prince Hassan.”

Beru covered her face with her hands. “I don’t—It’s so much worse now. The god is changing me. I can feel it. And I don’t know if…” She sucked in a breath and curled in on herself, squeezing her eyes shut like she was tensing for an invisible blow.

Hector drew closer to her, gently curling a hand around her shoulder.

Beru flinched beneath his touch. “Don’t.”

She was still covering her face, but Anton saw the wounded look on Hector’s.

“It will be days before we reach the Prophets,” Illya said. “Beru might not last that long. We need to be prepared if the god takes over.”

“How?” Hassan asked, incredulous. “That thing ripped apart an entire city like it was nothing. It can crush us just as easily.”

Illya didn’t have an answer for that.