Publisher's blurb: Galias’s Cross is a town with ideas above its station. Travelers know how close the road is to the mist-shrouded swamps of the Fellmire, though locals do their best to ignore it. When the wind blows from the north, the fetid stench of the swamp wafts through town, and the citizens smother their kerchiefs in cinnamon oil and clutch them to their faces, ignoring the portent of evil. Of late, the town has more immediate troubles: thieves in Galia’s Cross have robbed its richest families. Nobody has been hurt, but vagabonds are entering the boudoirs of young ladies—quite an affront to the respectability of the town.