They say the world used to turn. They say that night would follow day in an endless dance. They say that dawn rose, dusk fell, and we worshiped both sun and stars. That was a long time ago. The dance has died. The world has fallen still. We float through the heavens, one half always in light, one half always in shadow. Like the moth of our forests, one wing white and the other black, we are torn. My people are the fortunate. We live in daylight, blessed in the warmth of the sun. Yet across the line, the others lurk in eternal night, afraid... and alone in the dark. I was born in the light. I was sent into darkness. This is my story.

A complete fantasy book. Technically ... a weird western. Gunslingers, hex witches, dogmen, minotaur, trains that run further than you can imagine ... Mikeos Jones is a gunslinger, faster than thinking, part of the gunlaw, a man who can seldom afford the luxury of looking past the end of any given day. Jenna Crossard is a hex-witch, but her ambitions are larger than spells and charms - the need to understand the world consumes her. They say the gunlaw keeps men safe from the endless horror of the sect, but to Jenna it's a cage and she wants out. If that means breaking open the world and killing a few gods ... so be it.