Ireland is flooded, derelict. It never stops raining. The Kid in Yellow has stolen the babba from the Earlie King.
Why? Something to do with the King’s daughter, and a talking statue, something godawful. And from every wall the King’s Eye watches. And yet the city is full of hearts-defiant-sprayed in yellow, the mark of the Kid.
It cannot end well. Can it? Follow the Kid, hear the tale. Roll up! Roll up!