By N. K. Jemisin
The urban burned underneath the Dreaming Moon.
In the traditional city-state of Gujaareh, peace is the one legislation. Upon its rooftops and among the shadows of its cobbled streets wait the Gatherers - the keepers of this peace. monks of the dream-goddess, their accountability is to reap the magic of the dozing brain and use it to heal, soothe . . . and kill these judged corrupt.
But while a conspiracy blooms inside Gujaareh's nice temple, Ehiru - the main recognized of the city's Gatherers - needs to query every thing he understands. somebody, or whatever, is murdering dreamers within the goddess' identify, stalking its prey either in Gujaareh's alleys and the area of goals. Ehiru needs to now safeguard the girl he used to be despatched to kill - or watch the town be wolfed by means of conflict and forbidden magic.
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Additional resources for The Killing Moon (The Dreamblood, Book 1)
A thousand? Once they had reinforcements they would search the entire city. They would find Norrine in Santiole’s care, and then they would come for Erika. “I have to leave,” she said. Grandfather tapped his fork gently on his plate. ” It was the closest Adran city by land. It would take over a week to get there, but she had no choice. “Nikslaus doesn’t have many men. He can’t be watching all the city gates. ” grandfather asked. “Please,” she leaned close to him, offering her broadest smile. “You’re going to be a terror for whatever man you marry.
Santiole was alone, and she approached the cafe hesitantly. She came inside with one hand on her pistol. “Nikslaus is here,” she said, taking Norrine back outside. “A Privileged walked by with some soldiers not long ago,” Norrine said. ” Santiole gave a curt, approving nod. “It took me longer than expected to speak to Lady Erika without being spotted. They’ve closed the port and they have men watching all the city gates. ” Norrine asked. “We’ll go during the night. ” Santiole moved the hem of her jacket to reveal a coil of rope hanging from her belt.
I do hope you’re none the worse for Duglas’ little game,” Nikslaus said. Erika’s hand went to her throat involuntarily. The welt would be there for a week or more. Nikslaus continued, “He’s a fantastic swordsman but he does come from lesser stock. A peasant, you see. ” “It’s all right,” Erika said, praying Nikslaus would turn around and leave. “I thought you were rather fetching with a sword,” Nikslaus said. ’ Not skillful or quick or anything else. Just fetching. What an ass. Nikslaus rapped on the door as if to say goodbye, and gave her and grandfather each a nod.