At the Naming, the deep dark below the Emberhold spoke a name -- and it was hers. Kestrel came to the valley a mapmaker, nineteen and unremarkable. Now she is ash-marked, named by the dreaming thing that sleeps in the Throat, and every dragon in the caldera is watching her door. The matriarch is failing. The warrior courts call the Naming a tyranny. And the lullaby the Wardens sing to keep the dream asleep is thinning -- the frays multiply. Then Prince Lucan reaches the Ashen Gate with forty wagons, two hundred men, and vials of white fire -- the one flame that burns memory itself. He means to burn a wall. What he would actually burn is the quarantine keeping the world safe from the dream. To save the valley, Kestrel must offer the dream the one thing no ledger ever counted: a story that is entirely her own. El envío se realizará en 48/72hrs.