Cornelius has never been a very nice man. Back on his home world of Feylund, he made his living as the leader of a brutal band of highwaymen. Notorious and feared, he let his cleaver do the negotiating while his hooves kept him one step ahead of any would-be heroes.
But no-one outruns their comeuppance forever. The last Cornelius remembers of Feylund is a whisper. The voice of a vigilante and the cold touch of her blade, come to take his head at last.
A whisper. A blade. Then the red of his blood mingling with the red of a volcano, far, far away from Feylund. Cornelius doesn’t care much about what happened, or how. He cares about finding out who’s in charge around here, so he can kill them. Once that’s done he can go back to living the life he loves: at-large and in-charge.
—description from the publisher