Page 82 of The Sunlit Man

“Sunlit?” he asked. “You blessed man. Yousurvived?”

“I did,” Nomad said, stepping forward with the sack of sunhearts. “Looks like you and I had the same plan.”

Zeal peered into the sack, then up at Nomad with a grin on his face. “I…I can’t believe you.” He put a muddy hand to his head. “And here I thoughtIwas saving the city. You had it all in hand, even after we abandoned you.”

“I doubt you had a choice.”

“We didn’t, but—” He froze, hearing voices outside. He nodded to the side. “Maybe we catch up later? We’ve got about an hour left to save Beacon—which is going to be tight, with a forty-five-minute flight back at best, depending on the wind.”

Nomad nodded, jumping out into the mud. An argument was going on in the near distance, where several of the Cinder King’s officials were growing increasingly agitated. Apparently one thought that twelve people had been left here as tribute to the sun, while the other thought there had only been eleven.

Nomad followed Zeal out to the right, into the darkness. “Did you actuallystealone of their scout ships?” he whispered.

“No,” Zeal said. “Didn’t have the wherewithal for that. I grabbed the controls after Rebeke collapsed from heat exhaustion; I barely got us back to the shadow before we all burned up. Rest of the team is out—either unconscious or throwing up all over the cab. Once we get back, I’d hold my breath if I were you.

“I was the only one still hale, though Rebeke seemed to be recovering faster than the others. Still…well, I decided there was only one option. I had to grab the sunhearts myself. With fresh ones for power, we can maybe push the ship faster going back. It’s a hope, at least.

“So I landed and watched for lights in the darkness. I followed them while running dark, then snuck out and prayed to Adonalsiumthat I’d be able to manage on my own.” He shook his head, the movement made barely visible by the rolling lightning in the clouds. “And there you were. Already in the vault. I doubted you, Sunlit. I’m sorry.”

“No, Zeal,” he said. “I—”

Nomad. Someone’s following us.

He stopped in place, turning. Two burning eyes pierced the darkness behind them, illuminating the smiling face of a man walking at an even pace.

“Run, Zeal,” Nomad said.

The other man gasped, then obeyed. Nomad stayed in place, meeting those eyes.

“Guards!” the Cinder King shouted. “Charred! They are here! Come, stop them!”

The shout was accompanied by thunder. But the man didn’t seem too alarmed, despite his shout. He stepped forward, toward Nomad, and spoke in a calmer voice.

“I knew you’d come,” the man said. “Call it…faith. That the true killer could not be defeated so easily. You wouldn’t fall with a whimper in a city trapped on the slopes. You’re meant to die in battle, offworlder. In battle with me.”

Nomad stepped forward, as if to face off with the Cinder King right there. And he really wished he could. He’d stuff those burning eyes into the muddy water until they went out.

Instead he tried to keep the man talking, figure out his fatal flaw—something Nomad could use against him. Charred rushed by on both sides, chasing poor Zeal. Nomad kept his attention on their lord.

“You like being strong,” Nomad said. “You like having power over others.”

“All life,” the man said, “isabouthaving power over others. Wealth? It’s about making others do the work you don’t want to do. Strength? It’s the ability to push back harder than those who would push you. Religion?” His smile deepened. “Do men from your world really become gods?”

“You are fixated on me,” Nomad said, stepping forward. “You need to know if you are stronger than I am. Why? You already killed an offworlder…” Nomad narrowed his eyes. “No, you lied, didn’t you? You found that other offworlder as a corpse. And you’ve wondered ever since, were they stronger than you?”

“Of course I am the stronger one,” the Cinder King said, putting his hands out to the sides. “I’m alive. I didn’t lie; I found your kin—sick, not dead—but I’m stronger. After all, they’re now ashes. I have the sunheart to prove it.”

Sunheart.

Damnation. Nomad reallywasan idiot.

He got close enough to the Cinder King that the other man slid a sword from the sheath at his side, grinning at the prospect of a duel.

Then Nomad started running.

Right past the man, who cried out and gave chase—but Nomad was faster. He dashed through the mud and lightning, rain spraying against his face, wind whipping at the makeshift garment he’d tied at his waist. He sped straight for the Cinder King’s ship, then leaped up to grab the cold metal lip of the deck. He pulled himself up and shoved into the cab of the ship, racing through it to the cabin filled with trophies.

“Face me!” the Cinder King shouted behind him. “I am giving you the honor of doing so!”

---