Taking care not to alert the guard outside her door, she padded over to the fireplace and climbed onto the grate. Rubbing ash onto her hands to make them dry, she scaled the chimney and emerged out into the night. It reminded her of being the Pale Hand—staking out victims, racing through the streets of whatever city she and Beru had found themselves in. She almost missed it.

Illya loomed over her as she pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the flue.

“You sure took your time,” he commented as she climbed to her feet. “Is this a family trait? I’ve been standing here for hours.”

She wished she’d made him wait even longer. She brushed the ash from her pants instead of letting herself look at how the moonlight fell across Illya’s aristocratic face, how the sea breeze ran its fingers through his fawn-colored hair. Even with his features pinched in irritation, he was starkly handsome.

With a curt nod, she led him to where the pediment would hide them from view should anyone happen to glance up at the rooftop.

Unfortunately, the hiding spot forced them into very close proximity. Closer than Ephyra would’ve preferred, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him.

“Talk,” she said. The quicker he explained what he was doing, the quicker she could get away from him.

“I have a plan to get you out of here.”

She stared at him, uncomprehending. “What?”

“I should say we have a plan,” he amended. “Beru and I.”

Every thought in Ephyra’s head came to an abrupt halt. “My sister, Beru?”

Illya rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

“What are you doing planning with her? What are you doing even talking to her? You—You stay away from her, or I swear I’ll—”

She hadn’t realized she’d gotten in Illya’s face until he grabbed her wrist, stilling her. Her pulse thundered under his thumb, and she could feel his breath against her cheek.

He didn’t seem to notice. “You really think I pose some kind of threat to a girl who has an all-powerful god trapped inside her? You must have a high opinion of my capabilities.”

Ephyra wrenched her arm out of his grasp, glowering. “Don’t talk about your capabilities and my sister in the same sentence. Actually, just don’t ever talk about—or to—my sister ever again.”

He huffed indignantly. “She’s worried about you.”

The idea that Beru would confide in Illya made Ephyra so furious, it took all her willpower not to push him off the roof.

“Listen, we don’t have a lot of time.” Illya’s gaze was intent on her. “You need to agree to the Hierophant’s offer. If you do, I can get you out.”

It all pieced together in her mind. This was what he wanted.