The leader of the mountain people, the Icarian Summit, stood in the central square of the Gloaming. He held his sword high overhead. His face was blank. His long gray hair fell over his shoulders. Blood dripped down his bare chest. He swung hard at me. I jumped back, but too late. He slashed into...
Now that the bag was off my head and no one held a gun, I could take in the room. It looked ancient. The walls were pale, dusty stone, probably placed there a thousand years ago. The plain brown rug on the wood floor covered the stairs the Mahdi’s men and Aisha had gone down, the stairs I felt su...