The Sunforge (The Endsong) - Softcover

Buch 2 von 2: The Endsong

Stronach, Sascha

 
9781982187071: The Sunforge (The Endsong)

Inhaltsangabe

Sascha Stronach returns in this queer, Maori-inspired Endsong series about a police officer back from the dead who will stop at nothing to save her city from the evil that threatens to destroy it, perfect for fans of Gideon the Ninth and Black Sun.

The steel city of Radovan is consumed by fire, with survivors few and far between. Stranded in its harbor are Yat, Kiada, and Sen, whose Weaving powers are in a badly weakened state. Relying on only their wits, they must plot their way through the ruins of the capitol, which are patrolled by a hostile militia, and disable the technology that prevents them from escaping.

But to navigate the crew, Kiada will have to rely on her own history with Radovan—a place she first landed unwillingly, and one she only survived by falling in with Fort Tomorrow, a band of misfits and ne’er-do-wells led by Vanya, a charismatic pickpocket and a Weaver.

Vanya may hold the key not only to saving Radovan from complete annihilation, but an age-old fight between the gods that threatens their world.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Sascha Stronach is a Maori author from the Kai Tahu iwi and Kati Huirapa Runaka Ki Puketeraki hapu. He is based in Wellington, New Zealand, and has also spent time in Malaysia, Indonesia, and Singapore, which have all inspired parts of the fictional worlds he creates. A former tech writer, he first broke out into speculative fiction by experimenting with the short form. The Dawnhounds, his debut novel, won the Sir Julius Vogel Award at Worldcon 78.

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Chapter 1


My daughter is a demon who lives in the forest. Her muscles are lean; her claws are long; her teeth are a broken mass of pulp and enamel. Her fur is a testament written in scars, a dark scrawl in the incomprehensible calligraphy of violence. When she comes for your children, she eats only their softest parts; she tears the tenderness from them as it was torn from her; she takes their stomachs and lungs; she leaves their muscle and bone to fester on the forest floor. My daughter is a poem written in blood. My daughter is a reckoning. My daughter burns like the sun and you will never catch her.

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