And there was another reason to feel uneasy about seeing Beru. They had no idea what state the girl would be in when they found her. No idea how strong her control over the god was. Hassan could still feel the terror of watching the entire city of Behezda crumble to the god’s will. It seemed impossible that one girl could control all that power. And even if everything went smoothly today, even if they did manage to wrench the girl—and the god inside her—from the Hierophant’s control, what then?

One problem at a time, Hassan reminded himself. First they had to rescue the girl.

They left the villa, winding down the road and into the second tier of the High City. Even from here, it was possible to see the citadel perched high on the cliffs that overlooked the sea. Somewhere behind those high, white walls was the Hierophant. Hassan’s blood burned hotter just thinking of him.

Once the towering limestone gates were in sight, Hassan held out his hands and let Hector chain them together.

“This might be the most foolish thing I’ve ever done,” Hector said.

“It’s not even top five for me,” Hassan assured him.

Hector’s lips quirked in a smile before he smoothed his expression and grabbed the back of Hassan’s shirt, marching him down the long esplanade bracketed by massive columns and lined with silver-leafed olive trees. They were at least a hundred paces from the gate when two Sentry approached.

“Cadet!” the older of the two called out to Hector. “What are you doing out-of-bounds? Who is this?”

“Sir,” Hector said deferentially. “My apologies. I was patrolling the perimeter when I spotted this boy trying to breach the walls.”

Hassan held his breath as the two Sentry came closer.

“Very well,” the older one said. “Take him to the holding cells.”

“Sir,” Hector said, grabbing hold of Hassan’s face and turning it toward the Sentry. Hassan made a show of struggling against his hold. “I think you’re going to want to tell the Prophet about this. Directly.”

The older Sentry squinted at Hassan’s face, and then his eyes widened in shock. “It … it can’t be.”

“I wasn’t sure at first, either,” Hector said. “But look at him. Unmistakable.”

“Fuck you,” Hassan spat, trying to shake him off. He threw his head back, smashing it into Hector’s jaw. Hector grunted in pain, his grip tightening on Hassan’s shoulder in warning. Hassan wasn’t too concerned—it would sell their act further, and Hector frankly deserved payback for hitting Hassan so hard earlier.

“Save it,” Hector barked.

The second, younger Sentry looked on in confusion.

“Stavros,” the older Sentry barked. “Go to the Prophet. Tell him we have the Prince of Herat.”

The younger Sentry blinked in surprise and then departed hastily.

“Cadet,” the older Sentry said commandingly. “Why don’t you hand our prisoner over to me?”