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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

Of the two of them, Beru had always been better at reading people. While Ephyra was quick to assume the worst of almost everyone, Beru was evenhanded in her evaluation. She saw the good in people—or rather, she saw the truth of them, their intentions, what drove them.

Growing up, Ephyra had always let Beru take the lead when it came to dealing with people. The night she’d brought Anton back to their hideout in Pallas Athos, all those months ago, it was Beru who had persuaded him to help them.

Maybe somehow, she’d managed to do it to Illya, too. Maybe she’d figured out the key to win him over. Illya was compelled by power, and now Beru was powerful. More powerful than Pallas. More powerful than Ephyra.

“Why did you want me to agree to be Pallas’s executioner?” she asked, rather than answering Illya’s question.

He looked surprised by the question. Instead of answering, he reached for her wrist and touched one of the cuffs around it.

And she understood. If she said yes, if she agreed to be Pallas’s executioner, then at least for a few brief moments, he would have to remove her cuffs. She’d be free to use her power.

“I can’t kill him,” Ephyra said. “Pallas. If I kill him, then the seal breaks and Beru—”

“I know,” Illya replied. “I had a different idea.”

“You really have a plan?” Ephyra asked carefully. “A way to get me out of here?”

He nodded, his golden eyes pinned on hers, his hand still touching the cuff, but not the skin beneath it.

She sucked in a breath, gathering herself. “Then I’ll say yes. When Pallas summons me again, I’ll agree to be his executioner. But your plan—you need to get me and Beru out of here. Or I won’t do it.”

She expected him to protest, to argue and tell her it couldn’t be done, it was too risky.

But he just drew back his hand and dipped his head, as if he’d expected it. “All right.”

They reached the door to Ephyra’s room. Instead of pushing it open, Ephyra turned back to him. “What did she offer you?”

“What?”

“You would never risk yourself like this,” she said. “Not unless the reward was worth it. So what is it? What did she promise you?”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his golden eyes dimming with something like guilt, or regret.

“It’s Grace, isn’t it?” she said slowly. “She’s going to give you someone’s Grace if you do this.”

A muscle in his jaw tensed. “Good night, Ephyra.”

He turned and left her standing in the doorway, alone.

7

ANTON

The dream came to Anton in fractured pieces.

Jude on his knees in an unfamiliar room, his face a patchwork of bruises and fresh cuts.