From publisher blurb: “There were twelve of us, at first. They got Leland, his wound wouldn’t stop bleeding. He kept keening, like a dying pig. Swarund put him out of his misery, but his wailing was enough to signal more. They came from the dark. They howled like dogs and smelled of copper. I would swear the one that got my leg used to be our lighter-boy. Now I sit and wait. When the wind blows, I hear their distant howls. I will not be kept waiting long, I think.”