BooksBarbecue
Back Into the Dying Light
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

As they traveled farther and farther from the safe house, Hassan couldn’t shake the feeling that this—leaving the others behind—was wrong, somehow. His heart was in Nazirah. He knew that. And while he missed Zareen and the Scarab’s Wing rebels, he felt an aching sense of loss at leaving his friends behind. That’s what they were—his friends. Perhaps the first real friends he’d had in his life, not bound to him by duty or ambition. Just friends.

As they reached the harbor and boarded the ship that would take them home, Hassan sent a prayer up into the sky. In hopes that they would be safe, and that they’d see one another again.

“You ready?” Khepri asked, looking over her shoulder at him as they boarded.

Hassan nodded, taking her hand. “Let’s go home.”

34

JUDE

Jude’s days were filled with silence. The three of them that remained—he, Anton, and Illya—moved about the safe house like it was a tomb. With Hector and Ephyra gone, and now Hassan and Khepri, their group, united in their quest to find the Prophets and kill the god, had dissolved.

Anton spent most of his time in the herb garden, tending to the lavender and sage. Jude wasn’t sure what Illya did with his days—nor why he had stuck around—and Jude passed the time by practicing koahs.

The days stretched out before them as they waited for the Wanderer to arrive. They all avoided the topic of what they were going to do next, but each morning felt like another slow step toward the inevitable. There was only one option left to him. The moment that Lazaros had killed Pallas, the moment the god had broken free, Jude had known.

He was their only hope. His sacrifice—his death—was the only thing that could stop the god now.

Two days after Hassan and Khepri left for Nazirah, Jude returned from practicing koahs and found the Wanderer in Tuva’s sitting room, sipping a glass of wine. Anton sat across from her on a cushioned bench, looking wary.

“Good of you to join us,” the Wanderer said when Jude stopped in the doorway.

“I—I didn’t know you were here already.” Jude felt like he’d been caught wrong-footed. Silently, he went to sit beside Anton.

“I just arrived,” she replied.

“You know what happened, then?” Jude asked. “The Prophets and … Pallas?”

“Yes,” she replied with a sigh. “I … should have guessed that Pallas might have killed the others. He always saw them as threats to his power. I was wrong to imagine that had changed.”

“You said there was news,” Anton prompted.

The Wanderer nodded. “I managed to track down the Relics while you were away. Pallas hid them in Pallas Athos. Somewhere only he could reach them while the city was under his rule.”

“Where?”