Light Bringer

1

Darrow

Castaway

Our sun floats in darkness attended by moons made of trash.

Long ago, when the planets were reshaped by mankind, the detritus of their terraforming operations was fused together into moon-­sized spheres by orbital compactors and shoved out toward Sol. Gripped by the gravity of her mass, most of these trash moons have completed their centuries-­long funeral march into the nuclear fires of the sun, but several hundred laggards still remain circling their eventual demise.

Tethered to the barren landscape of a forgotten trash moon once catalogued as Marcher-­1632, a shipwrecked corvette named the Archimedes hides in the shadow cast by a waste escarpment a kilometer high. Martian slaves-turned-­soldiers-­turned-­castaways crawl over the ship. Our welding torches flare against the hull. Our space suits are stinking bogs. We are marooned two hundred million kilometers from home, and I stew in sweat, nausea, and discontent.

That bloodydamn Bellona. That arrogant Peerless shit.

I m going to break his knee if I ever see him again. It should be him on this hull. I d tell him to his face, but he took the only relic in the base s hangar that could still fly and stole off with Aurae, his Pink accomplice, while I slept. He recorded a little message telling me to tend my wounds, and left his mess behind ­his crippled ship ­for us to repair. The bastard.

More than a decade separated from Olympia s airy sepulchres has done little to dim Cassius s spectacular talent for condescension. Worst of all, in typical Cassius fashion, he s taking his damn time. Six weeks he s been gone on a mission to Starhold ­an ecliptic trade post between the orbits of Mercury and Venus ­to secure us the helium we need for the Archimedes. While here I am: either languishing in the old Sons of Ares base that s hidden in the belly of the trash moon or latched onto the side of his ship like an industrious barnacle welding the days away, knowing time is

Pierce Brown is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of Red Rising, Golden Son, Morning Star, Iron Gold, and Dark Age. His work has been published in thirty-four languages and thirty-six territories. He lives in Los Angeles, where he is at work on his next novel.

Praise for Dark Age

[Pierce] Brown s plots are like a depth charge of nitromethane dropped in a bucket of gasoline. His pacing is 100 percent him standing over it all with a lit match and a smile, waiting for us to dare him to drop it. NPR

An epic story of rebellion, social unrest, and sacrifice. Orlando Sentinel

Much like A Song of Ice and Fire s George R. R. Martin, Brown is an author who is interested in exploring the consequences of his protagonist s actions. Revolution doesn t come without a price and no one can stay a hero forever. The Mary Sue


Praise for Iron Gold

Complex, layered . . . mature science fiction existing within the frame of blazing space opera . . . done in a style [that] borders on Shakespearean. NPR

[A] thoughtful blend of action, intrigue, and prosaic human drama. Publishers Weekly (starred review)


Praise for Morning Star

A page-turning epic filled with twists and turns. Booklist (starred review)


Praise for Golden Son

In a word, Golden Son is stunning. Among science fiction fans, it should be a shoo-in for book of the year. Tordotcom


Praise for Red Rising

[A] spectacular adventure . . . one heart-pounding ride . . . Pierce Brown s dizzyingly good debut novel evokes The Hunger Games, Lord of the Flies, and Ender s Game. Entertainment Weekly