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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

“What…” Anton didn’t know where to begin. Finally he said, “Is this a vision?”

“Not exactly,” Nazirah said. “You’re scrying into the past right now.”

“I know that,” Anton said. “But how are you talking to me? I’ve scried into your past before, and it wasn’t like this.”

“Well,” Tarseis said, his face stern as he primly adjusted the sleeves of his dark robes. “As you are scrying into the past, we are scrying into our future. We have been trying to do so for some time.”

Nazirah stepped toward them, towering over tiny Behezda, her long, dark hair streaked with gray. “We have reason to believe we might be killed before we can speak to you in person. We have a message for you, and now that Pallas has turned on us, the Order can’t be trusted with it.”

“Then why can’t you tell the Wanderer?” Anton asked. The others looked confused. “She’s still alive, in your time. She—she tried to help me.”

“If we could find the Wanderer, then we would,” Endarra said. She looked rueful, her ethereally beautiful face lined with regret. “But we lost her trust years ago. I doubt she would help us now, even if we could find her.”

“Why…” Anton trailed off. “Why now? If you’ve been trying to scry into the future for some time, then why did it work now?”

The Prophets exchanged looks.

“We don’t know exactly,” Behezda said gently. “You were the one who called out to us. You asked for our help.”

“So tell us, young Prophet, how can we aid you?” Keric asked.

Anton swallowed. “The god is back. It’s here to unmake the world. The only way to stop it is to do what you did last time—use the Sacred Word to kill it.”

“If you know all that, then surely you must know we hid the Sacred Word in the Keeper,” Nazirah said gently.

“Yes,” Anton said. “And unleashing it will kill him. But there’s another way. You found another way. Show me how to create more Prophets, and we can make a new Sacred Word.”

“You were meant to be the Last Prophet,” Tarseis said, his voice cold. “That is what was written in the final prophecy.”

Anton blinked away tears. From the moment he’d had the vision of the end of the world, he’d understood how lonely it would make his life. The Last Prophet. The only Prophet. But just because his fate had been written that way didn’t mean he had to accept it.