By China Miéville
Following Perdido highway Station and The Scar, acclaimed writer China Miéville returns along with his highly expected Del Rey hardcover debut. With a clean and fantastical band of characters, he includes us again to the decadent squalor of recent Crobuzon—this time, many years later.
It is a time of wars and revolutions, clash and intrigue. New Crobuzon is being ripped except with out and inside. struggle with the shadowy city-state of Tesh and rioting at the streets at domestic are pushing the teeming urban to the edge. A mysterious masked determine spurs unusual uprising, whereas treachery and violence incubate in unforeseen places.
In desperation, a small workforce of renegades escapes from the town and crosses unusual and alien continents within the look for a misplaced hope.
In the blood and violence of recent Crobuzon’s most deadly hour, there are whispers. it's the time of the iron council. . . .
The daring originality that broke Miéville out as a brand new strength of the style is right here once again in Iron Council: the voluminous, lyrical novel that's destined to seal his recognition as probably the edgiest mythmaker of the day.
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Additional info for Iron Council
Beside me in the wall was a grating about three feet high, with the bars set askew. It was probably a drain. I fell through. And dropped about four feet to a sloping floor. It was pitch-black above me and there was a hand grasping and grasping in the dark. I could hear it scrabbling against the wall. I took a swipe overhead, and my blade struck something moving. Roaaaaaa . . The sound was blunted behind stone. But from my side came the sharp retort of his palm as he started slapping. I dived forward.
Somebody saying, Wait till it gets light enough so you'll know I'm here. "Le Dorik was with me after sunrise. " Nativia asked, wonderingly. Bewildered, I returned to the village. La Dire and Lo Hawk met me at the source-cave. We spoke together a bit; I watched them thinking deeply about things I didn't understand, about my bewilderment. 'You're a good hunter, Lo Lobey," Lo Hawk said at last, "and though a bit outsized below the waist, a fair specimen of a man. You have much danger ahead of you; I've taught you much.
There were many cracks in the high ceiling, here and there lighting on the floor a branch clawing crisped leaves or the rim of a hole that might go down a few inches, a few feet, or drop to the lowest levels of the sourcecave that were thousands of feet below. I came to a fork, started beneath the vault to the left, and ten feet into the darkness tripped and rolled down a flight of shallow steps, once through a puddle (my hand splatting out in the darkness), once over dry leaves (they roared their own roar beneath my side), and landed at the bottom in a shaft of light, knees and palms on gravel.
Iron Council by China Miéville