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Into the Dying Light

Katy Rose Pool
Chapters (72)
  1. Copyright Notice
  2. Dedication
  3. I
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. BEFORE
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. BEFORE
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. BEFORE
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. BEFORE
  25. II
  26. 18
  27. 19
  28. 20
  29. 21
  30. 22
  31. 23
  32. 24
  33. 25
  34. 26
  35. 27
  36. 28
  37. 29
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. III
  42. 33
  43. 34
  44. 35
  45. 36
  46. 37
  47. 38
  48. 39
  49. 40
  50. 41
  51. IV
  52. 42
  53. 43
  54. 44
  55. 45
  56. 46
  57. 47
  58. 48
  59. 49
  60. 50
  61. 51
  62. 52
  63. 53
  64. 54
  65. 55
  66. 56
  67. 57
  68. 58
  69. AFTER
  70. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  71. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  72. Newsletter Sign-up

Copyright Notice

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Dedication

For all who have braved their own Age of Darkness

I

THE KEEPER OF THE WORD

1

BERU

Beru gazed out at the Witnesses gathered before the altar, a sea of black and gold. Pallas’s palm rested gently on her shoulder, a reminder to the Witnesses, and to Beru, who was in control here. Her skin crawled. The god was restless, bristling beneath Pallas’s hand, straining against the Four-Petal Seal that kept it bound inside her.

She could feel the god’s vitriol, the ever-present desire to strike Pallas down, a low hum in the back of her mind.

“Today,” Pallas intoned, “is a day of glory. A day of divine judgment, where the wicked are punished and the worthy rewarded.”

His long fingers dug briefly into Beru’s shoulder as he nodded at Lazaros. The Witness slunk like a shadow toward her, his Godfire scars gleaming in the torchlight.

His hands were cold as they unlocked the Godfire collar that circled Beru’s neck. As the metal drew away from her skin, Beru felt the sudden jolt of the god’s power flowing through her. It was almost painful.

WE COULD STRIKE HIM DOWN, the god whispered in her mind. WE WOULD BE FREE.

Without the collar to contain it, the god’s hatred seeped through Beru like acrid poison. She closed her eyes against it and stepped up to the edge of the altar, raising her hands. She could feel the invisible currents of esha that reverberated throughout the temple, and with a twist of her wrist she tugged on them, flinging the temple doors open. Bright white light flooded the sanctum. The revelers gasped in awe.

Pallas’s voice echoed through the chamber. “Who among these faithful will be the first to receive revelation?”

The crowd parted, and a Witness dressed in black and gold robes marched toward the altar. A woman in chains stumbled along behind him, her dark hair lank and loose around her shoulders. She looked frail and dirty, a trapped, half-starved creature, but there was a ferocious gleam in her eyes.

“Immaculate One,” the Witness said, bowing to Pallas as he reached the altar. He turned to Beru. “Holy Creator. I seek revelation, and I bring you this unholy sinner to receive your judgment.”

The chained woman trembled as she stood before them, but her gaze didn’t falter.