Raging Star (Dust Lands)
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Saba’s passion kept her allies alive. Now it may destroy them all in the gut-wrenching third book in the highly praised Dust Lands trilogy, which MTV’s Hollywood Crush blog called “better than The Hunger Games.”
Saba is ready to seize her destiny and defeat DeMalo...until she meets him and he confounds all her expectations with his seductive vision of a healed earth, a New Eden. DeMalo wants Saba to join him, in life and work, to create and build a healthy, stable, sustainable world…for the chosen few. The young and healthy. Under his control.
Jack’s choice is clear: to fight DeMalo and try to stop New Eden. Presumed dead, he’s gone undercover, feeding Saba crucial information in secret meetings. Saba commits herself to the fight—and hides her connection with DeMalo. Joined by her brother, Lugh, and her sister, Emmi, Saba leads a small guerilla band against the settlers and the Tonton militia. But the odds are overwhelming. Saba knows how to fight—she’s not called the Angel of Death for nothing. But what if the fight cannot be won? Then DeMalo offers her a seductive chance she may not be able to refuse. How much will she sacrifice to save the people she loves?
Betrayal lurks in unexpected places in the breathtaking conclusion to the Dust Lands Trilogy.
Auriel, surely, surely she’d come soon. She was the only one who could help her. The first starfall of the night caught her eye. Burning bright, some starsoul racing back to earth on urgent business. Or maybe, just maybe, it was Auriel. She could be travelling to her the quickest way possible. Hitching a ride on a shooting star. Streaking across the sky to land in New Eden in a perfect dazzlement of light. No one could stop a shooting star. No one. Not even the Pathfinder or the Tonton.
deep in his silverlake eyes. Don’t look at me like that, he says. Don’t touch me like that, I says. I told you how it stands, he says. You did, I says. I remember. I press him to the wall, gently. I undo his shirt an smooth it away. An I bless my lips to his heart. To the red risin sun crudely inked on his flesh. His Tonton blood tattoo, that he earned servin justice on two wicked men. My lips crawl the scar road on his chest, hard won in the service of friendship. He was safely away but
everybody? I dunno about nobody else, he says. I was seein to the horses. You must be starved. I’m gonna cook a big pot of root mash. Hot an wholesome, jest like yers truly. I thought you gave up yer life of crime, I says. It don’t hardly seem possible there could be a worse cook than Molly. But Lugh is it. You let him near a cookfire at yer peril. His root mash is especially vile. Ungrateful brat. You’ll eat it an thank me nicely. He grins wickedly as he pecks my cheek in passin. We can talk
the ones Tommo an Lugh wear. An we’re all of us muddy an wet through. But my boots is brown an scuffed. Not like theirs, black with a high shine. Which is how Tonton boots oughta be. None of us gave a thought to it. I damn myself fer a hasty fool. Danger bristles my spine as his gaze takes me in, head to toe. My hands tighten on the reins. Both my gear an Hermes’ kit is well offa the Tonton mark. I’m ridin at the rear. He ignores Webb, on a pony in front of me. Goes directly to Lugh an Tommo,
water at the top of the map. Find a boat, like you said, keep goin. I don’t trust him to keep his word about you. The rest of ’em he will, but not you. Saba! DeMalo’s voice, his men’s voices grow closer. Saba! They’re all callin my name. You did a deal with him, says Jack. It’s me he wants. Only me. He always wins, I says. Jack’s drawn back. I see his face change. As some kinda truth starts to dawn in him. He didn’t even hafta lift a finger, I says. All he had to do was wait. I did this