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Back Into the Dying Light Save as PDF
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

She couldn’t kill Pallas. His death would unleash the will of the god. And more than that, she could not kill him because Beru knew who she was, and all the pain and rage in her heart could not turn her into a killer.

She released her hold, and Pallas doubled over, heaving.

Beru stood frozen, stunned at what she had almost done to Pallas. Had the god taken control? Or had it been her?

She didn’t know anymore. The difference seemed insignificant.

But the part of her that was good, the part of her that had walked away from Ephyra in Medea, that had pushed her to Behezda to save Hector, that had come to care about every single person who had joined her on this journey, had proven to be stronger than every poisonous feeling that lurked in her heart.

She was stronger.

She gazed down at Pallas. The god struggled against its seal, against the iron strength of Beru’s will.

Pallas’s gaze met hers again, and she knew that he saw it, too—her power; her strength; the vast, bottomless ocean of faith that he could never understand.

Pallas the Faithful knelt before her, defeated.

And then his eyes widened as the Godfire sword pierced through his chest and set him aflame.

Shock rooted Beru to the ground as Lazaros pulled his sword from Pallas’s chest.

“You have betrayed the mission of the Witnesses,” Lazaros spat as a ragged scream tore from Pallas’s throat, the white flames climbing up his robes. “You are a charlatan who has desecrated the holy will of the Creator. You call yourself the Immaculate One, but you are no better than the heretics you have sought to purify, and now I see that the world can never truly be cleansed until you are gone.”

He ran the sword through Pallas again, and the screams abruptly stopped. The flames overtook him and the light in his bright blue eyes extinguished.

Lazaros sheathed the Godfire sword and knelt at Beru’s feet.

“Holy One,” he breathed, his scarred face shining with adoration. “Blessed Lord of All. I humbly pledge myself to you.”

The seal that Pallas had created, the binding that had caged the god all this time, dissolved. The god’s will stormed through Beru’s body, a roaring tide so powerful Beru could not even begin to fight back.

She was drowning beneath it, buried in a darkness so complete that no light could touch her. A prisoner in her own body.

The god was in control.

32

EPHYRA

Ephyra’s heart catapulted into her throat as she watched Pallas’s body burn, Godfire smoke spiraling up into the sky.

Beru stood over him, but even from this distance Ephyra could see that it was no longer Beru. There was an eerie stillness to her, an unnatural, chilling rage on her face.