Isavel was sure she was a gods-forged weapon. It seemed painfully obvious. So with her second life falling to pieces all around her, and nowhere left to go, she stands before them again, one last time - hoping, for once, to be a double-edged sword.
Arguments with gods rarely end well, however. Now thrown so far off the path that no walking or wings could ever bring her home again, she finds the self-destructive legacy of her ancestors stretches far further afield than she could have imagined. The same old bones lie under alien soils, the same wars echo in different blood, the same silent stars twinkle above barren skies.
And looming over it all, the same inscrutable gods - only these ones are within reach. And with every scuff and every broken promise, the visage of these gods crumbles away until Isavel finds herself staring at what lurks in their hearts and their roots. But these gods still stand, and still the worlds turn, and somehow she must find a path to her home, and a home for her heart.
These old gods may stand in her way, and their wastelands may sap her strength. But she is a weapon, of a kind no god has ever known. And arguments with gods rarely end well.
