The Unfinished Land

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Far to the north, west of dream and east of knowledge, there lay a great ring of islands where life and time began, known to some as the Atlantides, and to others as Tir Na Nog. Still others remember them as the islands of Queen Hel, the most radiant but difficult of aspect, and name them the Fingers of Dis. But Hel hath not been seen for thousands of years…

There is no history before these islands. Here, surrounded by a thick, constant mist, are the seven navels of thought and soul, where linger the origins and the shaping of all we know and love, and all we hate and fear—for the Earth and its sheltering sky, despite their seeming age, are deceptively young.

REYNARD SHOTWOOD, no longer a boy, not yet a man, had pushed the last of his dead shipmates overboard two days before. Rubbing crusted salt from his eyes, he tried to say another prayer for them and for himself, but his lips were broken and his tongue filled his mouth so he could not make the words.

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