Almost twenty years have passed since the last war in which the states of Oveta fought against one another. They fought—and if they didn’t shatter completely, then they at least cracked and fell apart. But the evil that had settled in the ancient land didn’t disappear. It hid, biding its time, growing itself. It took hold in the ground like the root of a broken weed. It dissolved like bitter salt. It swelled with poison like a forbidden fruit. And now it was time to bear fruit.
The harvester seized the crooked trunk, called distant guests, and spread a tempting rumor for those nearby. Soon they would meet one another—the former nearly a god and a thousand-year-old sorcerer; the great thane of the scattered steppe host and the mother of his child; the heir of a fallen kingdom and the mysterious hunter, a warrior and descendant of a demon; the little forest fellow and a kind giant; the demon that was waking up and an “oh-just-a-girl” hurricane. They’re already close. They are moving toward each other, not for a friendly party.