Broken blade, p.1
Broken Blade, page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Terms and Characters
Currency
Calendar
Days of the Week
Teaser chapter
Ace Books by Kelly McCullough
“Aral the jack, formerly the noble Aral Kingslayer, is the best kind of hero: damaged, cynical, and despondent, yet needing only the right cause to rise from his own ashes. Broken Blade gives him that cause, and gives the reader a great ride through Kelly McCullough’s rich new fantasy world.”
—Alex Bledsoe, author of Dark Jenny and The Sword-Edged Blonde
Praise for Kelly McCullough
SPELLCRASH
“Simple and elegant . . . McCullough is the true demigod of web magic. Brilliant!”
—Huntress Book Reviews
“The book is filled with action and suspense. The world-building is awesome, the plot intense, and there is plenty of pathos and humor.”
—Three Crow Press
“Entertaining and rapid-fire.”
—San Francisco Book Review
MYTHOS
“A smooth, flowing tale that entices the imagination.”
—Huntress Book Reviews (★★★★★)
CODESPELL
“A hint of cyberpunk, a dollop of Greek mythology, and a sprinkle of techno-magic bake up into an airy genre mashup. Lots of fast-paced action and romantic angst up the ante as Ravirn faces down his formidable foes.”
—Publishers Weekly
“One long adrenaline rush, with a few small pauses for Ravirn to heal from his near-fatal brushes with the movers and shakers of the universe, all while trying to figure out how to survive the next inevitable encounter.”
—SFRevu
“Imaginative, fascinating, with a lot of adventure thrown in . . . Mr. McCullough has followed his first two books with a worthy sequel. CodeSpell will keep the reader on edge.”
—Fresh Fiction
“This third book featuring hacker extraordinaire Ravirn is every bit [as much] of a fast-paced, energetic page-turner as its predecessors. Ravirn continues to be a fascinating protagonist, and the chaotic twists of the plot carry the reader through to the end.”
—Romantic Times
CYBERMANCY
“McCullough has true world-building skills, a great sense of Greek mythology, and the eye of a thriller writer. The blend of technology and magic is absolutely amazing, and I’m surprised no one has thought to do it quite like this before.”
—Blogcritics.org
“This is the second book in McCullough’s series that fuses hacking culture with ancient gods, and it’s every bit as charming, clever, and readable as its predecessor.”
—Romantic Times
“It’s smoothly readable, vivid, and fun . . . highly recommended.”
—MyShelf.com
“McCullough has the most remarkable writing talent I have ever read . . . Not satisfied to write a single genre or to use a subgenre already made, he has created a new template that others will build stories upon in later years. But know this: McCullough is the original and unparalleled.”
—Huntress Book Reviews
WEBMAGE
“The most enjoyable science fantasy book I’ve read in the last four years . . . Its blending of magic and coding is inspired . . . WebMage has all the qualities I look for in a book—a wonderfully subdued sense of humor, nonstop action, and romantic relief. It’s a wonderful debut novel.”
—Christopher Stasheff, author of Saint Vidicon to the Rescue
“Inventive, irreverent, and fast-paced, strong on both action and humor.”
—The Green Man Review
“[An] original and outstanding debut . . . McCullough handles his plot with unfailing invention, orchestrating a mixture of humor, philosophy, and programming insights that give new meaning to terms as commonplace as ‘spell-checker’ and [as] esoteric as ‘programming in hex.’”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“A unique first novel, this has a charming, fresh combination of mythological, magical, and computer elements . . . that will enchant many types of readers.”
—KLIATT
“McCullough’s first novel, written very much in the style of Roger Zelazny’s classic Amber novels, is a rollicking combination of verbal humor, wild adventures, and just plain fun.”
—VOYA
“WebMage contains a lot of humor and a highly inventive new way of looking at the universe, which combines the magic of old with the computer structures of today.”
—SFRevu
“Complex, well paced, highly creative, and, overall, an auspicious debut for McCullough . . . well worth reading for fans of light fantasy.”
—Sci Fi Weekly
“[A] fascinating world, somewhat redolent of Zelazny’s Amber universe . . . The interface between magical and computer technology definitely tickles my inner geek.”
—MIT Science Fiction Society
“This fast-paced, action-packed yarn is a lot of fun . . . weaving myth, magic, IT jargon . . . into a bang-up story.”
—Booklist
“Kelly McCullough has the hacker ethic and the hacker mind-set down pat . . . The combination of mythos, magic, and technology is great fun . . . Ravirn is the literary grandnephew of Corwin of Amber . . . If you like the Amber books, you will certainly enjoy WebMage.”
—Bewildering Stories
“It has finally happened. Someone crossed the genres of sci-fi and fantasy to create a magical world that has modern (futuristic) computer hackers . . . McCullough has taken characters out from the darkness of mythology and brought them into the light of this modern digital age . . . out-freaking-standing.”
—Huntress Book Reviews
Ace Books by Kelly McCullough
The WebMage Series
WEBMAGE
CYBERMANCY
CODESPELL
MYTHOS
SPELLCRASH
The Fallen Blade Series
BROKEN BLADE
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)
Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
BROKEN BLADE
An Ace Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Ace mass-market edition / December 2011
Copyright © 2011 by Kelly McCullough.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in viola- tion of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ISBN : 978-1-101-55238-4
ACE
Ace Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ACE and the “A” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
http://us.penguingroup.com
For Laura, forever and always
Acknowledgments
Extra-special thanks are owed to Laura McCullough; Jack Byrne; Anne Sowards; my mapmaker, Matt Kuchta; Neil Gaiman for the loan of the dogs; and artist John Jude Palencar and cover designer Judith Lagerman for a truly amazing cover.
Many thanks also to the
1
Trouble wore a red dress. That was my first thought when the girl walked into the Gryphon’s Head. My second was that the dress didn’t fit as well as it should for a lady’s maid. It was cut for someone both bustier and broader across the hip than the current occupant. Not that she looked bad. The wrapping didn’t fit right, but the contents of the package more than made up for any lack in presentation.
The poor fit of the dress was a definite puzzler. Red was the coming fashion for servants in the great houses of Tien, and while your average duchess might not give a cracked cup whether her servants’ clothes fit comfortably, she cared enormously whether their looks reflected poorly on her. The fashion was too new for hand-me-downs, which meant the dress had to belong to someone other than the girl wearing it.
She turned my way and marched across the room without so much as a glance at the filthy straw covering the floor of the Gryphon’s common room. Jerik, the tavern’s owner, changed it out once a year whether it needed it or not, much to the annoyance of the rats and their more exotic magical playmates, the slinks and nipperkins. When I added her indifference to the awful things in the straw to the length of her stride and the set of her features, I had to revise that “girl” to woman though she was quite young.
“Are you the jack?” she asked when she reached my table. She leaned down toward me as she spoke, silhouetting herself against the only light in the room—a dim and badly scarred magelight chandelier.
“I’m a jack, and open to hire if you’re looking for one.” A jack of shadows, the underworld’s all-purpose freelancer—how very far I’d fallen from the old days.
“I was told to look for Aral . . .”
She drew the word out almost into a question, as if hoping I might supply something more than my first name. It was a tactic I recognized from long, personal use and one I didn’t much like having turned back on me. But if I wanted to keep paying my bar tab, I needed to work, so I nodded.
“Aral’s a name I’ll answer to, among others. Why do you need a jack?”
“First, let’s find out whether you’re the right sort for the job I have in mind.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw my shadow shifting slowly leftward as if seeking a better view of the young woman. I leaned that way as well, to cover the shadow’s movements, and accidentally elbowed my whiskey bottle off the table. It thudded into the straw but didn’t break. Not that it mattered. I’d finished the last of the contents twenty minutes ago. Which, in all honesty, might have had something to do with my knocking it over.
“Hang on a tick,” I said, and bent to pick the bottle out of the moldering straw.
I took the opportunity offered by the cover of the table to make a sharp “no” signal to Triss with my left hand. I couldn’t afford to let anyone notice my shadow moving of its own accord, not with the price on our heads—prices, really, as there was more than one interested party. And even this darkest corner of a seedy tavern had light enough for a trained eye to make a potentially fatal connection.
I swore silently at my shadow familiar while I returned the bottle to the table. Cut it the hell out, Triss! That was just frustration. If I didn’t say it out loud, Triss couldn’t hear me, and if I did, I might as well just cut my own throat and get it over with. The Shade did stop moving, but whether that was because of my hand signal or simply because he’d gotten an adequate eyeful, I didn’t know.
I did give the woman a more thorough looking over myself at that point. Triss never pulled anything that obvious without a damned good reason. He owned the cautious half of our partnership. Besides, as noted earlier, the lady merited plenty of eye time on her own account.
Tall for a woman, perhaps matching my own five feet and eleven, and built and muscled more like a Zhani warrior-noble than the lady’s maid her dress proclaimed as her station. Hair a few shades darker than my own middling brown and nearly twice as long, with a luxurious braid that reached just shy of her waist. Her eyes were dark though I couldn’t tell the exact shade in the dimness that had originally drawn me to the Gryphon. More telling still, she had sword calluses on the inside of her left thumb.
That made the dress a lie for sure. It more likely belonged to her girl than to her. Which left me with an interesting question: Why, if she really was a minor noble of some sort herself, hadn’t she simply had her seamstress do her up one that fit properly? But that was more a matter for idle curiosity than any real concern. I didn’t much care where my jobs came from. Not anymore. Not if they paid enough to cover my bills. Besides, in the jack business, the client always lies.
The whole point of coming to a jack is that we don’t belong to anyone and so don’t answer to anyone. A sunside jack might find your stolen necklace for you without asking any of the inconvenient questions that the watch would be obliged to because of their allegiance to the law and the Duke of Tien. Questions like: Where did you get the necklace in the first place? Or why does it look so much like a necklace that was reported stolen by someone else last year?
On the shadowside, the questions we don’t ask have even sketchier answers. Why do you want me to steal that? What’s in this box that needs to be delivered to a dockside location at four in the morning? How come Taurik Longknife isn’t getting his cut of this little deal of yours? What did they do that you need them roughed up? Or, for a black jack, why do you want him dead? Sometimes the client supplied an answer anyway, but it was rarely an honest one. Not that it mattered. Mostly, I just don’t want to know. That’s part of why I became a jack in the first place. A jack doesn’t have to care.
I did wonder about a couple of interesting little scars showing where my potential new client’s neck met her right shoulder—but it was an idle sort of wondering. While I was studying her, she was doing the same with me. Judging by the slight crease between her eyebrows, she didn’t think much of what she saw. She wasn’t the first to make that judgment. She wouldn’t be the last.
“Well,” she said, after a moment, “what sort of jack are you?”
“Me? I’m a shadow jack, of course, but never a black one. I’ll take risks if the money looks right and I’m not fussed about the law, but I won’t ghost anyone for you. Not for anyone else either, for that matter.”
I was done with the blood trade. Triss and I had long since sent our share of souls to the lords of judgment and their great wheel of rebirth. More than our share.
It was her turn to nod though the frown stayed. “I’m not looking for contract murder, just a bit of sensitive delivery service.”
That was good and, if true, probably why she’d chosen me from among Tien’s many shadow jacks. Courier work and its close cousin, smuggling, provided the bulk of my income these days. Shadowside, but not the deep dark. Few jacks anywhere could boast a better reputation for quiet deliveries, but then, I had Triss. And that was the sort of advantage that not more than a score of people in the whole wide world could boast.
