“Excuse me? You don’t look like you just got executed.” Anton narrowed his eyes, taking in Illya’s washed-out face and shaking hands.

“Yes, thank you, that was the point,” Illya replied, licking his thumb and swiping it across the pale handprint on his throat. To Anton’s astonishment, the mark of the Pale Hand wiped off. “It’s part of the plan.” He eyed Anton. “You were not, however. And I’m expected elsewhere so maybe we can have this reunion later?”

“What plan?” Anton asked. “What are you up to?”

Illya didn’t reply, he just turned on his heel, retreating deeper into the chamber.

“Where are you going?” Anton called after him. He shot a confused glance at the Wanderer, who all but shrugged.

“There’s a passage that leads into the citadel,” Illya replied. “Aha. Here it is.”

“Why are you going into the citadel?” Anton asked, drawing up beside Illya at the mouth of a tunnel, which was lit intermittently with incandescent lights.

“To rescue Ephyra and her sister,” Illya replied, as if it were obvious.

Anton laughed. Illya just stared at him coolly. “Wait. You’re serious?”

“Of course I’m serious,” Illya answered. “As long as Pallas still has control over that girl, he has the god’s powers at his disposal. We get them out, and he’ll lose his one source of power.”

Anton gaped at him. “Do you really expect me to believe you’ve turned on him? After what you did in Behezda?”

Illya gave him a familiar look of disdain. “What I did in Behezda got me a position in Pallas’s inner circle, which is what allowed me to do all this.”

“You must think I’m really stupid, huh?”

“I don’t really care what you think at the moment,” Illya replied. “You are free to wait here, or come with me if you like and see for yourself. But I’m going.”

“Right,” Anton said. “You probably want me to come with you so you can deliver me straight to Pallas.”

“I just said I don’t care whether you come or not.”

“Well, as it happens, I need to get into the citadel, too,” Anton said. “So we are coming with you. And you’re going to take me to Jude.”

“Jude?” Illya echoed in confusion. “You mean that swordsman who’s hopelessly in love with you?”

Anton flushed.

“Why would I take you to him? I haven’t the faintest idea where he is.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Anton replied fiercely. “I know Pallas has him locked up. I saw it.”

Locked up and maybe being tortured. Anton swallowed down his fear.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”