About the book
The Bloodstar Heir
THE BOY BENEATH THE RED TIDE Ciaran Daire had learned, long before he had the height to reach a latch, that a man could survive almost anything if he kept his hands busy. That morning, his hands were in a barrel of brine up to the wrist. The salt bit into the old cracks across his knuckles, found the raw place under his thumbnail, and stung there with the private cheer of something delighted to be useful.