Dark festivities. Thomas S.

Stories are never new. All accusations were written by the same ink.

England, 1645. My name is Nicholas Pierce. I am a bastard and a novice playwright. Suddenly, my father orders me to return to my father and become an assistant judge William Persival, a former witch hunter. Only then does he promise to reveal the name of my mother.

But, as you know, there are no former catchers, so I must be careful. Indeed, with the dead I have more in common than the living. Perhaps I inherited a dark gift from my mother. The dead sing me about their sorrows, and I, listening to their songs, write my plays.

But now I myself got into another dark hunt. The threat of a fire is close as ever. I feel like a puppet in the hands of fate.

Can I be saved?

For fans Bridget Collins.