Lady Bellrose had been something of an enigma when Jude met her in Endarrion, but everything she’d told him had turned out to be true. She’d known that they needed to find the Four Relics to stop Pallas, that the god’s esha had been sealed in the Red Gate—she’d even known why Jude’s Grace had been damaged and what he’d needed to do to restore it.

“But then…” Jude paused, pieces slotting together in his mind. “You’re—the Lost Rose?”

Zinnia smiled. “You’re a lot smarter than you look.”

“Wait—the Lost Rose?” Hector echoed. “As in, the secret organization that Hassan’s been trying to contact?”

Zinnia held out her arms. “And here we are, answering. You’re welcome.”

“We could have used your help six weeks ago!”

“Hector,” Jude warned.

“We’ve been busy,” Zinnia replied. “What with the god you and your friends unleashed on the world.”

Jude flinched. “That wasn’t our fault.”

“Wasn’t it, though?”

Jude fell silent. They’d all played a role in the god’s resurrection, whether they’d meant to or not. They were all part of the last prophecy.

“Why are you reaching out to us now?” Hector asked, suspicious.

Zinnia rose to her feet. “We have a message for you.”

Despite his wariness, hope leapt in Jude’s chest. If Lady Bellrose and the Lost Rose were getting in contact with him, that meant they had news. News that, he hoped, would help lead him to Anton.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Jude asked carefully. “About the Lost Rose and Lady Bellrose? How do I know you’re not actually working for the Witnesses?”

Zinnia smiled slightly, as if the idea were amusing. Instead of replying, she circled around to a marble chest that sat in the corner. She muttered a string of words, too quick for Jude to catch, and the chest opened, allowing her to pluck something out. She returned, tossing the item down on the table in front of them.

Hector and Jude both leaned forward, peering at the copper sphere that rolled across the wooden table before coming to a halt. It was the size of Jude’s fist, with intricate swirls etched into it, forming a dizzying pattern that Jude almost recognized. It was a moment before it clicked—this sphere looked just like an oracle stone, which the Prophets had used to record their prophecies.

Jude glanced up at Zinnia. “What is this? What does it say?”

She shrugged.

“Stop with this cryptic horseshit,” Hector demanded.

“I’m not being cryptic. I really don’t know. The message will only reveal itself to one person.” Her eyes met Jude’s. “You.”

Jude’s gaze slid back down to the sphere as he carefully picked it up. The moment he touched the cool surface, the sphere began to glow. He nearly dropped it in surprise.