A goddess awakens to a new world, only to find that some things never change. Amidst the ashes of a failed rebellion in Seven Cities, new embers are flaring to life. There are furrowed brows at the beleaguered Malazan Legion headquarters in G’danisban for it would appear that yet another bloody clash with the revived cult of the Apocalyptic is coming to a head. Seeking to crush the uprising before it ignites the entire subcontinent, Fist Arenfall has only a few dozen squads of marines at his disposal, and many of those are already dispersed – endeavouring to stamp out multiple brush-fires of dissent. But his soldiers are exhausted, worn down by the grind of a simmering insurrection and the last thing Arenfall needs is the arrival of the new Adjunct, fresh from the capital and the Emperor’s side. The man’s mission may be to lend support to Arenfall’s efforts . . . or stick a knife in his back. ‘Twas ever thus, of course. That a popular commander should inevitably be seen as a threat to the Emperor – such is the fatal nature of imperial Malazan politics. And what of the gods? Well, as recent history has proved, their solution to any mortal mess is to make it even messier. In other words, it’s just another tumultuous day in the chequered history of the Malazan Empire.