Leaning down I closed his eyes, forcing myself to touch him. The skin was cool already. My fingers lingered on his eyelids as my hair escaped from its band and fell around my face. I thought of my capture, of the moment he chained me to him and marked me as his own and the way he humiliated and abused me. I thought of the way he had chained Anna and stolen a part of me over and over, and destroyed that pure essence we keep hidden and secret, the part we never show any other person. But I no longer hated him.
Every bone ached and my muscles wept with pain but I pulled him to the edge of the grave. Pausing to stretch out my back I couldn’t look as I rolled him in, but winced at the thud of body on body. I allowed myself one glance and the lover’s embraced him into their fold. He was home.
Searching his bag I found my photos and slipped them into my back pocket, but then something caught my attention and digging further I pulled out another bundle of photos: his. His father, mother… sister? I frowned, he had his arm around her, but they looked too similar to be lovers. Flicking through there were more photos of this woman with two children, and her husband. He was in so many of their pictures, laughing, hugging, smiling. His life before the wars laid out clearly before me. He was a brother and a son. He was loved and he loved in return.
Then the final one. My captor, alone at the top of a cliff. He was younger then, perhaps mid-twenties, and a smile danced across his face with pure unfettered joy. I turned it over, reading the inscription over and over, and finally cried. Tears of weariness, of relief, of pain and sadness, regret and resolution.
I walked away, heading towards the setting sun which guided me like a beacon. I left him and not looking back I started my way back to my son. I had left him to save him, but that wasn’t enough now. Even though I had saved him from my captor, there would be other dangers, other trials for him to face and he should never have to face those without me. To be alone in this world was to suffer. It is true that we are not perfect creatures, but to me he is perfect. He is pure in a world of hatred and lies. There would be questions and accusations, distrust and disbelief, of that I was sure. Simon would threaten me, intimidate me and never stop until my captor’s death was avenged, but I wasn’t alone, and me, the real me, would survive.
I am not Kate.
I am not Anna.
And I know his name.
Acknowledgements
This is always the hard part, and in true Sam fashion I’ll probably forget someone. If I do, please be assured it is not intentional. I cherish and appreciate every single person who has helped me with this book.
My thanks to the very first beta readers for their positivity and cheerleading. Emma Brooks, Zoë Harris, Frances Kay and Robyn Fulton, you all offered insight and honesty, and helped so much with character motivations. Thank you to Robert Peett for his inspiration and help during the first draft.
My eternal gratitude to my friend and editor Kate Coe for her constant enthusiasm and support along the way which knows no bounds. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve emailed you with ‘what about this?’ and you’ve responded with such positivity and passion that you’ve spurred me on even when self-doubt set in. You’ll never truly know how thankful I am! In fact, publishing a book is a group effort, and so huge thanks to Laurel Sills for her thoughts, honesty, and excellent skills when running through the manuscript with a fine toothed comb. For Hanna Waigh and her patience at my barrage of emails, and a big thank you to all at Rebellion (Solaris) who have taken a chance on this author and Anna’s story.
And as always to John Smith, my partner in all things.
HOPE HAS A PRICE
Nick Prasad has always enjoyed a quiet life in the shadow of his best friend, child prodigy and technological genius Joanna ‘Johnny’ Chambers. But all that is about to end.
When Johnny invents a clean reactor that could eliminate fossil fuels and change the world, she awakens primal, evil Ancient Ones set on subjugating humanity.
From the oldest library in the world to the ruins of Nineveh, hunted at every turn, they will need to trust each other completely to survive…
“Gasp-out-loud astonishing”
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“A galloping global adventure”
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“A perfect balance of thriller, horror and humour”
Adrian Tchaikovsky
www.solarisbooks.com
Ten years ago, the Kinslayer returned from the darkness. His brutal Yorughan armies issued from the pits of the earth, crushing all resistance, leaving burnt earth and corruption behind. Thrones toppled and cities fell.
And then he died.
Celestaine—one of the heroes that destroyed him—has tasked herself with correcting the worst excesses of the Kinslayer’s brief reign, bringing light back to a broken world. With two Yorughan companions, she faces fanatics, war criminals and the Kinslayer’s former minions, as the fragile alliances of the War break down into feuding and greed.
The Kinslayer may be gone, but he cast a long shadow: one from which she may never truly escape.
“Great pace, compelling characters, some serious ethical arguments to make, and amazing action scenes. And it’s startlingly fun.”
Tor.com
“Tchaikovsky interleaves graphically violent scenes of war with penetrating philosophical insights.”
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www.solarisbooks.com
500 YEARS IN THE FUTURE, EARTH IS A PARADISE... WITHOUT US.
The Earth was dying, and only the Erta could save it. Created to be genetically superior, hyper-intelligent and unburdened by the full range of human emotions, they succeeded by removing the cause: humans.
Now the Erta are faced with a dilemma—if they reintroduce the rebellious and violent Homo sapiens, all of their work could be undone.
They decide to raise one child: a sole human to decide if we should again inherit the Earth.
But the quiet and clinical Ima finds that there is more to raising a human than she had expected; and there is more to humanity’s history than she has been told.
“Adrian Walker breaks your heart in unexpected ways”
—Anne Corlett, author of The Space Between the Stars
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Anna Page 30