In front of her, Jude pulled to a stop, and Ephyra saw that dead ahead of him the narrow stone pathway had dropped away completely, leaving a gap of several feet, below which was a sheer drop into the caldera.

Khepri and Hector, supporting Hassan, leapt across first, followed by Illya. Jude nudged Anton forward next.

The Prophet jumped over the gap, reaching for Khepri’s waiting hands. The stones crumbled beneath his feet as he landed and he slipped down, out of Khepri’s grip.

“Anton!” Jude cried.

Ephyra’s chest loosened in relief as Illya caught Anton’s arm, stopping his fall. With Khepri’s help, he pulled Anton back onto the path.

“Your turn,” Jude said to Ephyra, his face still white with panic.

With the deftness she had learned as the Pale Hand, Ephyra launched herself over the gap and let Khepri pull her forward on the other side. Jude soared after her, just as the path they’d been standing on crashed down into the caldera.

“Keep moving!” Jude cried, and the others obeyed, sprinting across the stone bridge as it collapsed behind them.

They reached the stone stairs that had led them into the caldera. At the top of the stairs, Ephyra stopped as the others rushed past her down the other side of the slope. She turned back toward the sight of the Prophets’ tomb crashing down into the water.

“Ephyra, we need you over here!” Khepri’s panicked voice called to her, and when Ephyra turned she saw Khepri sitting with Hassan sprawled in her lap.

He was shaking, gasping wetly, and Ephyra knew that he was moments from death. Her heart seized in her chest as she knelt beside them.

The numb pain of losing Beru had hollowed Ephyra, but for a moment her worry for Hassan blotted it out.

“I need the cuttings,” Ephyra heard herself say. Someone—it might have been Hector—dug through their packs to find them.

Ephyra focused on Hassan’s bloodless face and the wound in his side that had bled over his entire shirt.

“Take off his shirt,” Ephyra said, and Khepri complied just as Hector appeared with the plant cuttings.

Ephyra’s hands shook as she assembled everything. She could feel their eyes on her, but she stayed focused on the uneven sound of Hassan’s breath. He was in shock, shivering violently under Ephyra’s hands.

Somewhere beneath her ruthless calm Ephyra knew a storm of fear raged inside her. And it was not just Beru who she was afraid for. Prince Hassan’s life was in her hands, and Ephyra was taken aback by the desperation she felt to save him. Somehow over the past few weeks, Hassan had joined the fold of people for whom Ephyra would do almost anything to save. It was a category that had previously included only one person, but which now, she realized, included every single person around her.