The heart in the mountain began to beat faster, sensing the threat. Jude cried out once, not in pain, but in awakening . The light from the glyphs exploded outward, connecting each woman in the circle. Threads of golden fire wove between them, crisscrossing, spiraling inward until they pierced his chest. His breath caught. For a moment, he saw everything. The watchers. The gods. The heart. The island's true shape. And his own soul, vast and bright, wrapped in the arms of twelve others. Then the light collapsed inward. A thunderclap. Silence. Jude opened his eyes. The mist was gone. The air smelled of smoke and salt. The wives stood around him, eyes wide, skin glowing faintly from within. The bindings had worked. But deep in the mountain, the heart still beat. Slower. Fainter. But not dead. Not yet. Jude stood. "This was only the beginning."