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They die for nothing
A rich kid's sport threatens to tear the city of Tyres apart.
By Kaden law a person’s life has a fixed price – man’s gold – a legal nicety that lets the toffs of Tyres play gruesome games with no personal consequences.
Or, so they think.
While Tyres is nominally under Kaden law, the city’s criminal organisations follow their own set of rules, one of them being payback, in spades.
Accidental witnesses to the deed that starts it all, Grace and Cera are drawn into a conflict that ignites the city’s interracial tensions, with Cera’s order of martial artists at the centre of the flaming hot mess caused by the the dead body of the local crime lord’s brother.
His revenge is focused on the rich kid’s sister and her son. Now the only thing Grace, Cera, and Crusse, the Wolf that is Tyres’s Marshal, have to do is get them out of the city as it burns around them.
By Kaden law a person’s life has a fixed price – man’s gold – a legal nicety that lets the toffs of Tyres play gruesome games with no personal consequences.
Or, so they think.
While Tyres is nominally under Kaden law, the city’s criminal organisations follow their own set of rules, one of them being payback, in spades.
Accidental witnesses to the deed that starts it all, Grace and Cera are drawn into a conflict that ignites the city’s interracial tensions, with Cera’s order of martial artists at the centre of the flaming hot mess caused by the the dead body of the local crime lord’s brother.
His revenge is focused on the rich kid’s sister and her son. Now the only thing Grace, Cera, and Crusse, the Wolf that is Tyres’s Marshal, have to do is get them out of the city as it burns around them.
120 pages, ebook
First published February 3, 2013
About the author
Baldur Bjarnason
8 books7 followersBaldur Bjarnason - that'd be me - is an Icelander who managed to flee the cold, hard, rock known as Iceland just as its economy was collapsing.
My past is of the usual mixture of boring and interesting, almost entirely boring to you because there's no way I'm telling anybody about the insane, stupid, stuff I did in my twenties or about my teenage nuttery.
No I'm not telling. Get over it. Make do with fiction.
My past is of the usual mixture of boring and interesting, almost entirely boring to you because there's no way I'm telling anybody about the insane, stupid, stuff I did in my twenties or about my teenage nuttery.
No I'm not telling. Get over it. Make do with fiction.
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