Anton followed his gaze, curling his fingers into the sheets. There were things he couldn’t tell Jude, things he had to keep from him, but he’d already decided the minute he’d seen him, bruised and broken in his dreams, that he was done staying away.

A knock sounded from the doorway, and Anton and Evander both turned to face the Wanderer.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said mildly. “Some of the others are waiting on the upper deck. They have a lot of questions. I thought maybe they would want to hear answers from you.”

The idea of facing everyone when Jude was still unconscious, still vulnerable, made Anton feel sick. “Can’t you talk to them?”

The Wanderer just gave him a look that was all too easy to interpret. This is your responsibility now, Anton. This is what being a Prophet means.

“I can stay with him,” Evander offered gently. “So he won’t be alone.”

Anton swallowed down his protests and gave Evander a brusque nod before pushing himself to his feet. With a last, lingering look at Jude, he followed the Wanderer through the corridor and up the stairs to where the others waited in a sitting room.

Ephyra leaned against the wall in one corner, arms crossed tight over her chest. Hassan sat beside Hector at the table. And to Anton’s displeasure, Illya sat across from them. All four of them turned to look at Anton and the Wanderer as they entered.

“So,” Ephyra said, breaking the silence. “What’s the plan? I’m assuming there is a plan. Because we’ve spent nearly two and a half months under Pallas’s control, and while I’m very excited to be free, we have another huge problem to deal with.”

“The god,” Illya said, unnecessarily.

A thick silence filled the room, and Anton knew he wasn’t the only one remembering Behezda.

“We have to kill it,” Hassan said bluntly. “I mean, it’s the only way, right?”

“The Hierophant said it took Seven Prophets to kill it,” Hector replied. “I think we’re a few short.”

“He was right,” the Wanderer said. She looked at Anton.

Anton took a breath. “That’s why we’re going to find the other Prophets.”

Silence descended on the room. Just a few short months ago, the idea of any one of the Seven Prophets still walking the earth would have sounded absurd. But now they were sitting right in front of one. And had just escaped from another.

“Well, where are they?” Hassan asked finally. He looked to the Wanderer. “You’re one of them, aren’t you? You must have some idea where the others are.”

The Wanderer shook her head. “Unfortunately, I don’t. There were … far more issues between us than we ever let on to you mortals. They all believed I meddled too much in human affairs. One of their many grievances against me.”