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368 pages, Hardcover
First published February 16, 2016
The revolution is over. It’s spring, 1788, in the Southeast wilderness. A party of American loyalists has been murdered, and a Frenchman tracks down the killers: a Muskogee Indian, a slave and a white man. Smith includes plenty of adventure in this story, but she and her French tracker Luis Le Clerc Milfort are more interested in what brought this disparate trio together and what drove them to murder. Smith’s decision to have the characters tell their own backstories gives the book its sociological heft.
“I could not tell if we were damned or saved. They did not make that clear. If what my body did mattered. Forgiveness, though, was like a wheel going around. My body moved out into darkness, my body moved back in. As long as it got on the wheel in time. In time being before my body died.” –Cat
“The people I have loved aren’t taking this walk—my mother, stolen from me; my brother, who stole himself; my children, who don’t know what it means to steal”—Bob
“I have nothing to do with these men. I met them two nights ago, and I’m not even sure that the white man’s name is his name. But my skin flinches at the thought of parting, as though they’re the blanker between my body and the ghosts. They’re the sticks that need arranging…If I leave them who will understand me? And where will they go without me?”—Istillicha
“There is a desperation about these men that suggests they do not reside on the rung of the criminal but, like all men here, are pursuing what might be called advancement, or hope. Their success or failure will, I can’t help but believe, be a reflection on the project of this country. And yet I am the only man on their trail, the only man who may behold their fates. This strikes me as peculiarly lonely.” –Le Clerc