Light Bringer by Pierce Brown

Light Bringer by Pierce Brown

Author:Pierce Brown [Brown, Pierce]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fantasy, Young Adult, Adult
ISBN: 9780425285978
Google: xO6ZEAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B0B5Z4RZ2W
Barnesnoble: B0B5Z4RZ2W
Goodreads: 61423693
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 2023-07-25T05:00:00+00:00


* * *

—

“Sevro, get away from the airlock and put her down,” Darrow orders.

“She was eating our supplies.”

“Put her down.”

“Fine.” Sevro’s voice is monotone beyond the dark fabric of the sack. “Sevro, you’re paranoid. Sevro, you need to get more sleep. Your rat’s imaginary. Stupid Bellona. I told him we had a rat in the walls. I never miscount my sun butter.” He carries me on his shoulder.

“Tell me you didn’t hurt her.” Darrow’s voice. “Sevro.”

“She still has her scalp.”

“Sevro, Jove. She’s just a girl.”

“What’s what?” a warm, masculine voice with the most beautiful accent I’ve ever heard asks as he joins. Cassius. “The airlock alarm went off. Where’s Aurae? Is she all right?”

The Pink’s voice: “I’m fine. I thought I heard a girl scream.”

“I didn’t scream,” I say in the sack.

“Yes, you did,” Sevro says.

“No, I didn’t.” He kicks me through the sack. Hard. Pain jolts through my ribs.

“Stop, Sevro,” Darrow snaps.

“Is that a person in that bag?” Cassius asks.

“Yes!” I say. “My name is Lyria! I am a person.”

“Is that the Red scout?” the Pink, Aurae, asks. “Poor thing, let her out.”

“No.”

There’s a scuffle and Sevro curses in pain. “Son of a bitch.”

The bag unzips and I’m dumped onto the floor at the feet of Sevro, Darrow, Cassius, and a woman so beautiful she must be made of shadow and starlight. I blink up at her, forgetting the giants towering over me. No, shadow and fog. That’s what she is.

“Hello,” I say to her.

The woman smiles sweetly, and then sniffs Sevro’s shoulder. “Is that urine?”

Sevro pulls a knife the size of my leg. “Sevro…” Darrow says. Sevro stares at me with so much rage, I think he’s going to kill me. Darrow sees the look too, and asks if he’s all right. The rage is not for the ham or the urine. It’s for telling him about Ulysses. The others don’t know. That’s plain as day, and the look of hate carries a warning: Keep your mouth shut.

He knows I got the message. He stalks away.



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