The Prophet is dead. The eyes of the Gods have turned to his daughter. But she isn't ready. Not for the whispers in her ear, for the divinations... for the blood. Her people's history and their future, carved by ancients into the bones of long dead behemoths, are now her burden. Only she can read them, interpret the instructions, and guide them to the Promised Land. Their journey is almost at an end, but now, without the Prophet, she must find a way to guide them to the place they will call Home. Through blood and through sand, against the will of her own flock, against the horrors that haunt the darkness, only she can bring her people Home. The Prophet is dead. Long live the Prophetess.