prologue
The Cull
Anwyvnian Song of the Uprising
The age of mortal men began
When iron armies
March’d north
A reign of faery turned to ash
With maegic blood
Spill’d forth
Hark!
An end to wicked trickery
Corroding the land
Of kings
A farewell to the evil wind
Whispering through
The trees
Hark!
The rule of sword and fist
Man’s power
Undisputed
The hunt for halflings now begins
Foul bloodlines
Executed
Chapter
One
The noose chafes, a necklace of death.
I feel my pulse—steady, staccato—thudding away beneath the fragile skin at my throat. There’s no fear. Not anymore. That came earlier, with the bruising hands and snarling hounds that tracked me through the wild marshland. And it fled with the sun, slipping over the horizon into crushing darkness.
What is it Eli always said?
Fear only means you have something left to lose.
I have nothing left now. Nothing but my life, and that isn’t worth much of anything to anyone.