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Tricks for Free (InCryptid, Band 7) - Softcover

Buch 7 von 16: InCryptid

McGuire, Seanan

 
9780756410407: Tricks for Free (InCryptid, Band 7)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0756410401 ISBN 13: 9780756410407
Verlag: DAW, 2018

Inhaltsangabe

The seventh book in the funny and fast-paced InCryptid urban fantasy series returns to the mishaps of the Price family, eccentric cryptozoologists who safeguard the world of magical creatures living in secret among humans.

Includes an all-new Aeslin mice novella and a map of Lowryland!

Penance, noun:
1. Punishment for past actions.
2. An attempt to pay for what can't be bought.
3. See also "exile."

Antimony Price is on the run. With the Covenant on her tail and her family still in danger, she needs to get far, far away from anyone who might recognize her--including her own mice. For the first time in a long time, a Price is flying without a safety net. Where do you go when you need to disappear into a crowd without worrying about attracting attention? An amusement park, of course.

Some people would call Lowryland the amusement park. It's one of the largest in Florida, the keystone of the Lowry entertainment empire...but for Annie, it's a place to hide. She's just trying to keep her head down long enough to come up with a plan that will get her home without getting anyone killed. No small order when she's rooming with gorgons and sylphs, trying to placate frustrated ghosts, and rushing to get to work on time.

Then the accidents begin. The discovery of a dead man brings Annie to the attention of the secret cabal of magic users running Lowryland from behind the scenes. They want the fire that sleeps in her fingers. They want her on their side. They want to help her--although their help, like everything else, comes with a price.

No plan. Minimal backup. No way out. Annie's about to get a crash course in the reality behind the pretty facade. If she's lucky, she'll survive the experience.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Seanan McGuire lives and works in Washington State, where she shares her somewhat idiosyncratic home with her collection of books, creepy dolls, and enormous blue cats.  When not writing--which is fairly rare--she enjoys travel, and can regularly be found any place where there are cornfields, haunted houses, or frogs.  A Campbell, Hugo, and Nebula Award-winning author, Seanan's first book (Rosemary and Rue, the beginning of the October Daye series) was released in 2009, with more than twenty books across various series following since.  Seanan doesn't sleep much. 

You can visit her at www.seananmcguire.com.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Prologue
 
“Woe betide the damned soul who tries to get between me and my children. I’m only the nice one in this family because I don’t care enough to hurt you.” –Evelyn Baker
 
The locker room of Lewis and Clark High School, Portland, Oregon
Six years ago
 
Cheerleaders filled the room. Most were half-clad; all were getting dressed with the ruthless speed and lack of artifice universal to teenage girls with no one they needed to put on a show for. The show would come later, when the Trailblazers football team took the field with their loyal spirit squad behind them, waving their pom-poms and cheering for victory.
 
A new girl rushed into the room, forcing the others to make room or get knocked over. Her game bag was slung over her shoulder and her auburn hair was pulled into a sloppy ponytail, tied off with a wilted spirit ribbon in Trailblazers blue and gold. A freshman girl straight­ened from her crouch too slowly; the newcomer placed a hand between her shoulders and used her as an im­promptu vault, landing on the other side of her without breaking stride.
 
A diminutive peroxide blonde with the figure of a Tolkien elf and the presence of a pop star dropped her mascara wand and turned away from the mirror, plant­ing her hands on her hips in a classic superhero pose. “Melody West!” she snapped, voice a whip cracking through the room. “You are late!”
 
The new arrival stumbled to a halt, momentum lost in the face of her captain’s disapproval. She turned, spirit bow somehow looking even more wilted. “I’m sorry, So­phie,” she said. “My family—”
 
“Sorry doesn’t stack our pyramid when you don’t show up, Mel,” said Sophie. Then she stopped, eyes going wide. “Wait, are you— are you bleeding?”
 
Melody West, better known in some circles as Anti­mony Price, youngest daughter of the Price family and cryptozoologist in training, barely managed to conceal her wince. She’d been hoping to get to her locker and her emergency first aid kit before anyone noticed that her lip was split and her knees were skinned severely enough to impress a six-year-old.
 
“You should see the other guy?” she said weakly.
 
Sophie lowered her arms and moved toward her team­mate, irritation forgotten. The other cheerleaders clus­tered around them as Sophie seized Antimony’s hands. Antimony swallowed another wince. Sophie clearly hadn’t noticed that her palms were almost as raw as her knees.
 
“Who did this to you?” Sophie asked, voice low. A murmur of angry curiosity rose from the rest of the squad, formless and violent. Melody was one of their own. Melody was part of the team. If they needed to no-show on the game to kick somebody’s ass on her behalf, well, that was a price they were willing to pay to protect a fellow Trailblazer.
 
Antimony dropped her eyes, looking to the side and away. It was a practiced motion, and one she’d been us­ing when people asked about her frequent injuries since the start of high school. It wasn’t fair. Her older sister, Verity, got the skill with makeup to conceal her bruises and scrapes without looking like she was enrolling in clown school. And Alex, her older brother, was a boy: people generally shrugged off anything less severe than a broken bone as long as he looked stoic about it.
 
(She was pretty sure that wasn’t fair either: Alex had as much right to concern and compassion as she did, and being a boy didn’t mean his injuries hurt any less. But he didn’t complain because a bruise ignored was a bruise not reported to Social Services. Under the circum­stances, she would have swapped with him in a hot sec­ond.)
 
“Mel, you’ve got to talk to someone. If this is your loser boyfriend . . .”
 
There was no loser boyfriend. There had never been a loser boyfriend. Antimony had fabricated him from whole cloth, a rough, slightly disreputable character who went to a different high school and had been portrayed— on the few occasions when he needed to be seen by her classmates, from a safe distance— by her nerdy cousin Artie in what he insisted on calling “jock cosplay,” driv­ing her Uncle Ted’s 1969 Camaro and sneering. Thus far, she’d managed to keep any member of the squad from meeting him face-to-face, which was for the best, since Artie’s pheromones tended to scramble the hormones of girls he wasn’t actually related to.
 
“I’m fine,” she said, and that was the truth, at least; all her wounds were the kind that could be handled with Band-Aids and antiseptic and extra foundation. The changeling-infested bear she’d helped her family kill couldn’t say the same. It was dead and downed and prob­ably on fire by now, since her mother had very firm ideas about disposing of hazardous material.
 
If she was being really honest, she was feeling a little smug. How many people could fight a murderous, tech­nically undead bear and make it to campus in time for the big game? Not many, that was how many. She was crushing it.
 
Sophie sighed. “Okay, we don’t have time to argue about this right now, but will you promise me you’ll at least think about talking to someone? I’m scared for you.”
 
“I promise,” lied Antimony, without a twinge of guilt.
 
She’d been lying to her friends and teammates since kin­dergarten. What was one more?
 
“Thank you,” said Sophie, and pulled her into a quick hug before turning to the rest of the squad and barking, “Anyone who’s ready to hit the field, get your butt over here and get Mel presentable! What looks bad on one of us looks bad on all of us!”
 
Like a glittering cloud, the cheerleaders descended.
 
If there had ever been a triage team as efficient as cheerleaders helping one of their own get ready, Antimony couldn’t think of it. In a matter of seconds, she was sitting on a bench, stripped from the waist down. One cheerleader bandaged her knees; another covered the gauze in Trail­blazer blue athletic tape, making it look more “aesthetic” than “accident.” Two more cheerleaders dealt with the damage on her face, expertly layering paint and powder.
 
“Arms up,” commanded Sophie. Antimony put her arms up. The makeup team paused long enough for An­timony’s sweater and bra to be removed. Antimony spared a momentary thanks for the fact that she’d been through this process before, and had no difficult-to-explain weapons concealed on her person.
 
“Arms out.”
 
Antimony stuck her arms out. Sophie produced Anti­mony’s sports bra and uniform top from the gym bag, pulling them onto the larger cheerleader’s body.
 
Someone hit Antimony in the face with a fistful of glit­ter. She struggled not to cough. It might have thrown off the person who was brushing her hair. Then someone else was taping her hands, and her skirt was being fastened around her waist, and she was done: she was dressed.
 
“Good work!” shouted Sophie, clapping her hands and glancing at the clock above the door. “With two min­utes to spare! Go Trailblazers!”
 
“Go Trailblazers!” shouted the rest of them, even...

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Verlag
DAW
Erscheinungsdatum
2018
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0756410401
ISBN 13 
9780756410407
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
432
Kontakt zum Hersteller
DAW
https://www.aeuln.top/

Kl?nenfeldstr. 22
Muttenz
4132
Schweiz
Verantwortliche Person
Nicht verfügbar

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