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408 pages, Paperback
First published January 2, 2007
‘On my seventh birthday, my father swore, for the first of many times, that I would die facedown in a cesspool. On that same occasion, my mother, with all the accompanying mystery and elevated language appropriate for a prominent diviner, turned her cards, screamed delicately, and proclaimed that my doom was written in water and blood and ice. As for me, from about that time and for twenty years since, I had spat on my middle finger and slapped the rump of every aingerou I noticed, murmuring the sincerest, devoutest prayer that I might prove my parents’ predicitions wrong. Not so much that I feared the doom itself – doom is just the hind end of living, after all – but to see the two who birthed me confounded.’
‘Groaning shamelessly, I jammed my left foot into the rut and rolled onto my back. The dark world spun like soup in a kettle, yet I felt modestly satisfied. I might be doomed to blood and water and ice – madness too if breeding held true – but by Iero’s holy angels, I would die face UP in this cesspool.’
‘The flaw was in me. Somewhere I was broken, not just in my ability to decipher words on paper, but in my ability to live in this world.’