Magic has a cost. yet another individual can pay. each time a spell is solid, a little bramble sprouts, sending up tangling vines, bloody thorns, and dangerous a toxic sleep. It sprouts in tilled fields and in associates' roof beams, thrusts up from among road cobbles, and bursts forth from sacks of powdered spice. a bit magic, and bramble follows. a bit initially, after which more--until complete towns are dragged down lower than tangling vines and empires lie lifeless, ruins choked via bramble wooded area. Monuments to those that enjoyed magic too much.
In paired novellas, award-winning authors Tobias Buckell and Paolo Bacigalupi discover a shared international the place magic is forbidden and its use is rewarded with the awl. an international of glittering thoughts and a determined current, the place every person makes use of a bit magic, and another person consistently will pay the price.
Magic has a value.
In Khaim, that fee is your head if you are stumbled on utilizing it. For using magic comes with an aspect impression: it creates bramble. The bramble is a creeping, choking risk that has lined majestic historic towns, and felled civilizations. as a way to hinder the unfold of the bramble, many lose their heads to the cloaked executioners of Khaim.
Tana is this kind of executioners, taking the task over from her in poor health father in mystery, eager to retain her kinfolk from hunger. yet now her kinfolk has been captured via raiders, and brought to a overseas city.
So Khaim's basically woman executioner starts off a quest to deliver her relations again jointly. A bloody quest that would switch lives, towns, or even a whole land, endlessly. A quest that might create the legend of The Executioness.