She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, the sweep of her dark blue skirt rustling. “She was, and still is, the most beautiful, the most ferocious girl I ever laid eyes on. This was forbidden by the other Prophets—we had vowed that in our roles as chosen Prophets, having attachments such as this would cloud our faith. I’m sure you can appreciate how difficult this was for me to accept.”

Jude was stunned that he and the Wanderer had something so fundamental in common.

“And then the girl I loved became a servant to Pallas. A sacrifice. And her children, and their children, were all born into this life of servitude. A life without love and family and all the things I had hoped for us to one day have.”

Jude felt his throat grow thick with tears. All his life he’d been told that his legacy as Keeper of the Word was born of duty, solitude, and service. But in truth, the legacy of his ancestor—the legacy of the first Keeper of the Word, was one of love.

Her gaze settled heavily on Jude’s face. “And now you. The last of the line of Weatherbourne. The last living descendant of my Temara. Knowing who she was, what she meant to me, what was done to us … can you understand why I let Anton go on this quest that I knew would almost certainly end in failure? Can you understand why I held out hope for him? For the both of you?”

Jude closed his eyes, wiping at his cheeks. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Even now, at the end, I can’t help but still hope,” she said, leaning forward and taking Jude’s hand. “You have her strength. I saw it the moment I met you in Endarrion.”

Jude gripped her cold hand tighter, steeling himself to do the unthinkable. To make the choice that he would give anything not to make.

“Anton’s plan won’t work,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I know it. You do, too. But I can’t wait around for him to accept it. The god is out there, and it’s going to bring this world crashing down if I don’t do something about it. If we don’t do something.”

He kept his eyes trained on her, so she would know what he meant by we.

She gave him a look that felt like a warning.

“Only a Prophet can unlock the Sacred Word,” he said slowly. “You’re a Prophet.”

He watched understanding settle on her face. “You want me to betray him. Lie to him.”

“You’ve lied to him before,” Jude replied, refusing to look away from the accusation in her eyes. “You’ve kept things from him.”

It was not lost on Jude that in carrying out this plan, he would do to Anton almost exactly what Anton had done to him. Keeping a secret like this, just to protect Anton.