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Back Seven Devils
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1.
  4. 2.
  5. 3.
  6. 4.
  7. 5.
  8. 6.
  9. 7.
  10. 8.
  11. 9.
  12. 10.
  13. 11.
  14. 12.
  15. 13.
  16. 14.
  17. 15.
  18. 16.
  19. 17.
  20. 18.
  21. 19.
  22. 20.
  23. 21.
  24. 22.
  25. 23.
  26. 24.
  27. 25.
  28. 26.
  29. 27.
  30. 28.
  31. 29.
  32. 30.
  33. 31.
  34. 32.
  35. 33.
  36. 34.
  37. 35.
  38. 36.
  39. 37.
  40. 38.
  41. 39.
  42. 40.
  43. 41.
  44. 42.
  45. 43.
  46. 44.
  47. 45.
  48. 46.
  49. 47.
  50. 48.
  51. 49.
  52. 50.
  53. 51.
  54. 52.
  55. 53.
  56. 54.
  57. 55.
  58. 56.
  59. 57.
  60. EPILOGUE
  61. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  62. ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Clo pulled the string to open her parachute. The same camouflage she’d tried to hide the ship with back on Jurran. She was jerked toward the sky as fabric billowed up above her. The air was still for the few minutes she glided toward the surface, with Sher in his own parachute beside her.

It was quiet. Peaceful. She spotted a clearing between the canopy of trees and glided with Sher to the ground. Her landing wasn’t graceful. It was a hard jolt up her legs as she fell into the grass, Briggs landing heavily into her side. The weight of his body stole her breath. They were on the edge of a forest, next to a sandy beach. The waters of the sea lapped the sand, the sky above a dark purple-gray. The air smelled of salt and brine. Closer to home than the desert or the frozen rock she’d just left.

“Briggs.” She pushed against him, but he flopped into the ground, unmoving. Eyes still shut. “Briggs?”

“Alesca.” Sher’s voice was quiet again as he unclasped his own chute and kneeled beside her. “Alesca, I’m s—”

“Don’t say it.” She shook her head. “Please don’t say it.”

Footsteps drew their attention.

A group of women stood at the edge of the forest, staring at them warily. Clo doubted they had many visitors out this way on their small island, least of all ones who fell from the sky.

The whir of Tholosian ships entering the planet’s atmosphere sounded overhead, drawn to the smoking ruins of the ship.

Clo turned to the women. “Help,” she said, in every language she knew. “Please.”

An older woman stepped forward. She was tall and lithe, with lines across her face that told of a life long-lived but far from over.

She seemed wary of Sher but kneeled next to Briggs, pressing her fingertips to his pulse. She spoke a dialect of Imperial. Then she shook her head.

“No,” Clo whispered back. “He’s not. He’s—”

“We have to go, Alesca,” Sher told her gently.

The woman pointed upward and spoke again, her voice urgent. A warning.

If Clo didn’t leave Briggs there, she would die too.

Leaving him was one of the hardest things she’d ever done.

Late that night, when the Tholosians had left them for dead, Clo sneaked back down to the beach. She tried to carry Briggs to the water, but he was so heavy. Too heavy. Three of the women whose names she still didn’t know had followed, emerging from the trees like ghosts. Wordlessly, they helped her drag Briggs to the shore.

Clo pushed him gently into the sea, letting the waves take him, like the dark green waters of Myndalia had taken her mother. One of the women murmured something like a prayer.

He sank, down into the dark, and a piece of Clo went with him.

38.

CLO

Present day