About the Book
Rainbow-hued bowers in high treetops. Golden eyes behind silkswaths of trilling scarlet. From the heart of the forest the lifesong of a man calls out to the daughter he has never seen. In Valley Terlath, Reyna holds the whitesilk that echoes that wordless song. She will never sit on the sunthrone of her mothers, yet in its plaint lies her birthright.
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