She was right. They couldn’t stay here, in this limbo, forever. Anton’s plan had failed. The other Prophets were dead, and Beru was somewhere out there, a prisoner to the god. There was nothing for Hassan to do here anymore. And though he’d failed to protect his people from this threat, he could still protect them from Lethia.

“Yes,” he said, holding her gaze.

It was time to go back. If the god rained destruction down on the Six Prophetic Cities, at least Hassan would die where he belonged.

To Hassan’s surprise, it wasn’t Jude who argued when he and Khepri gathered everyone in Tuva’s dining room and told them they were planning to leave.

“What happened to us doing this together?” Anton demanded. “What happened to ‘we were brought together for a reason’?”

“We tried that, and it didn’t work,” Khepri said bluntly. “We think that with the Hierophant dead, there might be a chance at regaining control of Nazirah from Lethia.”

“And what good will that do if the god destroys the city?” Anton demanded.

“Anton—” Jude began placatingly.

“No,” Anton replied, leaping to his feet. “If you want to go, then go.”

He stalked out of the room without another word, and Hassan felt a swoop of guilt in his gut.

Jude glanced at Hassan and Khepri apologetically. “He’s just—he’s upset. Not really at you, it’s just…”

Hassan understood all too well. Hassan and Khepri’s decision to leave confirmed what they all knew in their hearts to be true—they had failed.

“Khepri, it was an honor to fight alongside you,” Jude said. “And Prince Hassan, thank you for everything. I know it hasn’t always been easy putting up with me these past few months.”

Hassan cracked a smile, pulling the baffled swordsman into a brief, one-armed hug. Despite himself, he was going to miss Jude. It might have been that they were far too similar to ever get along well. In Jude, Hassan saw his own flaws reflected back at him, magnified and inescapable. But he also found himself admiring the swordsman. Jude always did what he thought to be right, no matter how difficult the choice was.

With a firm clap on Jude’s shoulder, Hassan released him. “You take care of yourself. And Anton.”

Jude nodded solemnly.

“Well,” Illya spoke up. “For what it’s worth, I’ll miss you two. And if you do succeed in dethroning your aunt, please send her my regards.”

Hassan glanced at him sharply. “You know Lethia?”

“Unfortunately,” Illya said with a grimace.

Hassan laughed for the first time in days. “Maybe you’re not all bad.”

Illya smiled. “A certain brother of mine might disagree.”

In the morning, Hassan and Khepri woke at dawn to meet a member of the Lost Rose who spent her time ferrying people up and down the Serpentine River.