"And
the visitor said, “The girl.” Something about “the girl.”
Looking for . . .
Need to find. . .
Life or death . . .
World depends . . .
The words didn’t mean much in Northern Darklandese. It took gestures for the boy to catch on, even vaguely. “Какая девушка?” he asked. “Какая девушка?”
But the visitor didn’t say. He didn’t know. She was without a name, he admitted. But he would find her, no matter the cost. No matter what it took.
The boy didn’t understand any of this, of course. Not the intentions, not the warning . . . no one in that settlement did.
So when the visitor left for central Asia mere hours later, none of those settlers could really believe it. Central Asia was precisely the thing that drove them here, to this little stretch of lonely coast along the Bering Strait. Central Asia was precisely where the nightmares lived. “Вы собираетесь прямо на них,” they told him. Straight toward the tinchers.
But this visitor didn’t seem to care about any of that. Did he, too, not understand? Or was he truly that fearless?
And what else was lost in the translation between them?
All that was clear—to anyone—was that this old, forgotten container port was not this visitor’s final destination.
It was merely in his way.
And whoever that girl was . . . she’d better get ready."
Looking for . . .
Need to find. . .
Life or death . . .
World depends . . .
The words didn’t mean much in Northern Darklandese. It took gestures for the boy to catch on, even vaguely. “Какая девушка?” he asked. “Какая девушка?”
But the visitor didn’t say. He didn’t know. She was without a name, he admitted. But he would find her, no matter the cost. No matter what it took.
The boy didn’t understand any of this, of course. Not the intentions, not the warning . . . no one in that settlement did.
So when the visitor left for central Asia mere hours later, none of those settlers could really believe it. Central Asia was precisely the thing that drove them here, to this little stretch of lonely coast along the Bering Strait. Central Asia was precisely where the nightmares lived. “Вы собираетесь прямо на них,” they told him. Straight toward the tinchers.
But this visitor didn’t seem to care about any of that. Did he, too, not understand? Or was he truly that fearless?
And what else was lost in the translation between them?
All that was clear—to anyone—was that this old, forgotten container port was not this visitor’s final destination.
It was merely in his way.
And whoever that girl was . . . she’d better get ready."
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the thrilling suspense on every page." - Lis Wiehl, New York Times bestselling author and FOX News correspondent