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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

Beru turned her palm up and squeezed Ephyra’s hand once, willing her to understand the dangerous words she left unsaid.

There was no way out of this. Not for Beru. Because with each passing day, the balance of power tipped—not toward Pallas, and not toward her, but toward the god. Its will grew stronger, and Beru didn’t know how long she had until it wrested control from her completely.

And then they’d all be doomed.

2

HASSAN

Hassan pushed open the door of the room he shared above the Three Palms Taverna, exhaustion and anger turning his limbs to lead.

The sea air, sticky with salt and brine, puffed through the open window. Sprawled across a mattress, Hector lifted a hand in greeting. Hassan noted the other already held a cup of wine.

“Jude’s not here?” Hassan asked, kicking the door shut and swallowing down the hot anger crawling up his throat. Jude and Hector usually got off their shift at the docks at the same time, several hours before Hassan’s work at the ledger’s office ended. But Jude seemed to be constantly disappearing, to Hassan’s growing frustration.

“I need to tell you something,” Hector said in a low voice, sitting up. He blinked, taking in Hassan’s expression and visibly dour mood. “What’s wrong? Did someone spill ink on the ledgers again?”

Hassan let out a breath, collapsing onto the bed across from Hector’s. “There were even more Witnesses in the square today.”

“Ah,” Hector said knowingly. “Let me guess—they’re blaming Behezda’s destruction on the Graced? Telling everyone that Pallas the Faithful is coming to save them all?”

After the destruction of Behezda, thousands had fled the ruined city and made their way to Tel Amot. Some had boarded ships bound for Charis and Pallas Athos, even as far as Endarrion, but many of them had stayed in the port city like Hassan, Hector, and Jude had. With the refugees had come the Witnesses, taking advantage of their desperation to recruit them. It made Hassan seethe just thinking of it, and he couldn’t help but remember the Witnesses who had terrorized the Herati refugees in the agora of Pallas Athos.

“The sooner the Archon Basileus gets back to us, the better,” Hassan grumbled. “Then we can finally get to Pallas Athos and do something about the Witnesses.”