The sky over Glasgow has torn open, the city is burning, and something red has just landed on the roof of a condemned tower.

Euphan Fairgrieve is the last invisible mender in Glasgow, sixty-four, left-handed, and no fan of heroes: capes, she'll tell you, get boys killed. But the thing on her roof is a cape, warm and breathing, with thirty-six tears in it, and every tear holds the story of someone who wore it and had to choose between ruin and mercy. While she mends, someone is climbing the dead stairwell toward her door, one floor at a time, whistling her little brother's song.

Thirty-six superpowered fables from nearly three thousand years of myth, legend and history. A Jamaican general who catches bullets and sends them home to whoever paid for them. A highwayman who arranges his own capture. A tightrope walker who carries the man paid to drop him across Niagara. A lion who spares its rescuer in the Roman arena and goes looking for its master. A Porto public defender who loses her case on the deck of a rotting iron bridge and finds she can hold it up with her bare hands. A cleaner who catches a falling star in the Atacama. A lawgiver who gives up an eye to his own law, a monk who died standing for an empty house, a villain's divorce, and the eulogy for a hero who never had a power at all.

Every cape tears. The good ones tear on purpose.

The Last Good Cape

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