Draykoni do not die. Not truly. Not forever.
So we thought. We have been proved wrong.
A killer walks the Off-Worlds, someone with the means and the will to extinguish even the oldest of draykon souls. But why would anybody do such a thing, and how?
I am Llandry Sanfaer: Draykon shapeshifter, ambassador, colony leader. My people are dying beyond hope of revival, and it falls to me to stop it. But the killer leaves nothing behind. No hints, no clues. Just a lifeless skeleton in a dead world.
What's more, the corrupted energy of Orlind has broken its confines. It's spreading. With my people and my worlds under threat, I'll need all my wits, all my strength, and all my friends to set things right.
