In Blackwick's poorest district, darkness doesn't fall — it rises from the cobblestones. Lantern Bearer Elias Thorne patrols three miles of crumbling streets with a brass lantern named Matilda, burning fuel the city keeps diluting. If the light dies, the Hollows come — translucent, wrong-jointed things that were human once. Elias's blood is so saturated with the fuel that he can see the city's fading ley-lines. Tonight, they're fraying faster than ever.
