He was more furious than he’d ever been in his life. At Anton, at the Prophets, at himself.

He should have known. The moment Anton had told him about the Prophets and the Sacred Word and the Keeper, he should have known what he would have to do.

He wanted to live. He wanted to keep loving Anton. He wanted a world where what he wanted mattered.

“What are you two yelling about?” Ephyra asked.

Jude stiffened. He’d forgotten the others were there. Anton was still glaring at Jude, pinning him against the piling.

“Anton lied to you,” Jude said at last, looking over Anton’s shoulder at Ephyra. “There is a way to stop the god. Without the Prophets.”

Silence descended like a storm cloud.

Finally, Hector croaked, “How long have you known about this?”

The quiet stretched until Anton finally turned to face the others. “Since before I found you all in Pallas Athos.”

“And you didn’t—”

“I didn’t tell you,” Anton said, “because I wasn’t willing to do it. Because what it would cost is—”

He stopped abruptly, seemed to fight against the words.

“Me,” Jude said quietly. “My life.”

He watched horror flicker over Hector’s face.

“What do you mean, your life?” Hector demanded. “Jude—”

“It’s a long story,” Jude said. “I don’t even know all of it. I just know that when the Prophets slew the god the first time, they created this … weapon. Something called the Sacred Word. And after the god was dead, they hid the Sacred Word inside the esha of the first Keeper of the Word. And that secret has existed in the Weatherbourne line for over two thousand years. But to unleash it, to use the Sacred Word, I would have to give up my life.”

Hector opened his mouth for what looked like another angry reply, but Jude cut him off.

“It’s no different from what you were offering to do back there,” Jude said steadily. “Taking Beru’s place as the god’s vessel.”

Hector fell silent.

“So that’s it?” Illya asked. “That’s the plan?”

“No,” Anton said at once.

“Yes,” Jude answered. “I planned to do it in the temple. I tried. But the Wanderer…” He trailed off into uneasy silence. They’d all seen what had happened to her.

“Well, none of this matters if we can’t get to the god again,” Illya said firmly. “We need to figure out where it’s going next.”

They all looked at Anton.

“You saw all this in your vision, didn’t you?” Hector asked.

Anton’s jaw clenched. “Yes. I saw Behezda. And then Tarsepolis. And now Pallas Athos.”

“So what comes after Pallas Athos?”

“Endarrion,” Anton replied, closing his eyes briefly. “A … plague in Endarrion. But we won’t get there in time.”

“We need to at least try,” Hector said angrily.