Bloody revenge is a color. It's read all across the universe in impossible shades of blue. Ghosts in stellar white shrouds haunt the hollows of deepest black. And blue is back with a vengeance to bloody the noses of those who stole his love. And those yellowbellies will never see it coming: the invisible fist dipped in bottomless blue. Arrows fashioned and trademarked by Almighty Klaxon spring their way toward a red beating hart. Snapped projectiles, cloven hoof caught in the jungle underbrush. For his hide is thicker than the hunters' barbs, his mind more glaring than the sun off Antarctic ice, his will more livid than scar tissue, his grief outlasting manmade machines of destruction and god-flung stars of dissolution. Banyan has hammered himself into a glaring god of rage. And that rage is eternal. Does the hunter queen have the heart to stop him?