Delia Garland

The ember in Grietje Zwanenburg’s horn is the only thing keeping thirty people alive in the twilight world beyond the Star-Wound. As the chosen fire-keeper, her life belongs to the hearth, not herself. But out on the volcanic steppes, someone else is watching the smoke rise. Wouter Heenk is an exile, an apex butcher who wears the occult skull of an extinct void-cat and knows no law but hunger. He does not care about Grietje's clan, but he is desperately, furiously drawn to her fire—and to the girl who guards it. When he cuts her away from the migration and drags her into the boiling craters, Grietje must decide whether to extinguish her spark or burn with him.

The void-currents of the Drifting Reefs swallow any sailor who cannot sing the paths. With my eyes blindfolded and a piece of flint in my fist, I can navigate the darkest star-seas by the echo of my own voice. But my song woke Arsham-shah—a primordial ocean-god whose skin is living coral and starlight. He rose from the abyss not to drown my people, but to drag me down into his glowing depths. He watches me from the black water, his touch pulling the tide beneath my skin, demanding that I sing only for him. If I refuse him, my people will never find land; if I yield, I will drown in his desire.