The incoming minister was young by Cabinet standards, but not outrageously so, at a tender forty-one years old. He was impeccably British — thus he steadfastly hid the nervousness which accompanied his third day in his new role — and his name was David Hutchison. The morning briefings had been unremarkable, but that was perhaps because his mind had been focused entirely on his next meeting. The green door swung open to reveal a wood-panelled office, with a vast but empty desk towards one...| Matt Gemmell
The stories of the old gods are true. They came from a convulsion of the universe, a chance and temporary order by which future chaos could best be ensured. Birthed in moments that might have been millennia, they found themselves in the void; its sole inhabitants, seething with entropy and separation and light. Alone, and angry to exist, in their supreme isolation and ultimate other-ness they instinctively lashed out, and in doing so created all the features and worlds of the heavens. Every s...| Matt Gemmell
KESTREL face a new and terrifying enemy: an all-seeing mastermind who already knows exactly who they are, and many of their deepest secrets. Nothing stays hidden forever, and the line between privacy and liberty is razor-thin…| Matt Gemmell
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