Chirurgeon 2

About the Book

There are forty thousand people behind a quarantine wall. And creatures wearing them like coats. And a Witch Hunter whose only cure for all this is fire.

The Hambledon Free Company rides south to Edgbaston on the promise of a Witch Hunter’s contract, because I carry the only instrument in the Empire that can tell the innocent from the evil. Which makes me the one who says who burns.

No pressure.

At least I’m not sleeping alone. Bell still calls me hers in front of the whole company, Sciver’s coming around to the idea of us and Wyatt has started actually talking to me. This worries everybody, me included. And Shrubsole, the Order’s chirurgeon, is pretty certain I’m a fraud. But she keeps turning up to watch me work anyway.

Meanwhile the man tearing open a rent in reality is somewhere in the city, feeding his rat, and the things coming out of it have started chanting my name.

Back in Pittsburgh, the hardest call I ever had to make was whether to wake the attending at three in the morning. I really miss the attending.