BooksBarbecue
Back Rapture
Chapters (55)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. 1.
  5. 2.
  6. 3.
  7. 4.
  8. 5.
  9. 6.
  10. 7.
  11. 8.
  12. 9.
  13. 10.
  14. 11.
  15. 12.
  16. 13.
  17. 14.
  18. 15.
  19. 16.
  20. 17.
  21. 18.
  22. 19.
  23. 20.
  24. 21.
  25. 22.
  26. 23.
  27. 24.
  28. 25.
  29. 26.
  30. 27.
  31. 28.
  32. 29.
  33. 30.
  34. 31.
  35. 32.
  36. 33.
  37. 34.
  38. 35.
  39. 36.
  40. 37.
  41. 38.
  42. 39.
  43. 40.
  44. 41.
  45. 42.
  46. 43.
  47. 44.
  48. 45.
  49. 46.
  50. 47.
  51. 48.
  52. 49.
  53. 50.
  54. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  55. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

But Nyx was unsteady on her feet, burning with fear. As she stepped into the hall, she was overwhelmed by the number of women around them, scurrying from one job to another. She reached for her blade.

Safiyah took her arm, quickly. “Hush now,” she said softly. “Head high. Sword sheathed. We are going to walk right out of this dismal place.”

“I fully expect to fight my way out. Fatima will call someone. We’ll carve out bloody bel dames for spans.” Nyx could see it. The bodies. The blood. The twisted young women’s faces.

Safiyah patted her arm. “Not today, child. Not after the call you made.”

“She won’t come.”

“She will.”

They walked through the open foyer unmolested, and when they stepped into the courtyard, there she was, with a mixed force of order keepers and Ras Tiegan security professionals. They had already breached the filter.

Mercia stood at the head of the little army, foolishly, Nyx thought, but that was just like her. When she saw Nyx and Safiyah, she frowned. “I expected you’d be fighting your way out,” she said.

“Me too,” Nyx said.

“Colonials,” Safiyah said, and shook her head.

“Thank you for the information. The Queen’s given me leave to extradite Fatima as a war criminal for what she’s done to Ras Tieg. Do you have the confession?”

Nyx decided not to tell her that the move on Ras Tieg was all the Queen’s idea. The girl would find out soon enough when she watched the recording. Nyx was fond of imagining Fatima living in some moist Ras Tiegan prison for the rest of her life. It was fitting, seeing as where Fatima had put Nyx for a year of her own life.

Safiyah took a locust from the deep sleeve of her burnous and passed it to Mercia. “My bugs see and record all.”

“You going to forgive me about the bodyguards, then?”

Mercia’s face was unreadable—the perfect politician. “I’m keeping that note in my ledger.”

“Fair enough,” Nyx said.

47.

Ahmed waited for Nyx at the rented storefront. He wiped himself clean with water pooling in the sink and a durable bar of yellow, scentless soap. It was not a proper bath, but it was the best he’d felt in a good long while. He caught his reflection in the cracked, opaqued windows at the front of the office, still hung with Nyx’s sign, though she had turned it inward, so her advertisement for a “bug killer” was visible only to him. He kept the windows opaqued, glad for the privacy, and dressed.