Bari has to slay the dragon that decimated her village—and the goddess trying to possess her.
Petty thief Mago has to outrun the ghosts in the tunnels under the city to halt her father’s execution.
The real challenge? Not disappointing the ghosts of their dead mothers.
Jae’s tails lashed as she debated crawling under the slanting panel of the dilapidated fence. The pickets were too tightly spaced to see through, but she listened for signs of life. Blowing wind, the calls of crickets. No footsteps.
Good. If a wrinkle-faced house goblin caught her, the bastard’s jokes about foxes and chicken-houses would never end. As infuriating as that would be, it wouldn’t stop her. Jae was a picky eater, and even after the rain, a patina of scents, of plants and soil and food and humans, clung to the flat path stones like an oily sweat. It was the smell of one of those people that had first seized her almost a day’s hard run away—the hot succulent tang of wisdom, the metallic crush of power, and maybe even a few earthy hints of destiny.
She’d had nothing to eat but the bland essences of farmers and bumpkins for the twenty years since the Blight. This was a treat too tantalizing to refuse—especially for the hint of danger it offered. A wise person was more likely to have heard the old stories, to know to bar their windows against her and what to do if they caught her.
Then again, it wasn’t like those idiot humans posed a real threat. Jae was a demon, after all, and she was hungry.