They rush at Orenzo Madleej, once eager conscript now crestfallen mercenary, suffocating his wide-eyed notions about historied combat. They fall on Aronan Kloss, once worthy heir now embattled harbinger, uprooting his duelling responsibilities of national security and human decency. They howl above Asma Madrejingo, once a resolute head now a fragile heart, leaving her for dead amid those who promised shelter—and they come with a sole cabalistic objective: to hunt a single immortal betrayer harbored by Aronan’s powerful father.

Now obligated by contract to escort half a city of refugees to the distant capital, Orenzo and his division are Aronan’s only hope to protect his people from a massacre of crude magic and relentless iron. The road is long as a spear, trust as fleeting as reprieve, and the trials of confidence without as exacting as the worms of misgiving within—for as the harrowing march cripples morale and civil war bleeds out the toughest of the crown’s retainers, the capital seems less and less likely to provide sanctuary…

Yet sanctuary they will need, for among them walks one with smoldering temples in his wake: a god’s bastard purposed with fraying the bonds between man and providence.

What chance, asylum, against the birth of imbalance?

Book Two, Grip of Dust, is complete. Check the homepage for the latest updates as it rolls through beta reading and beyond.