Max Gladstone: Two Serpents Rise

“No.”

“Choose one that rolls off the tongue. Red King Consolidated was a mistake—monolithic, impersonal. How about the Twin Serpents Group? Catchy, and there’s a story behind it. People like stories.”

“I’ll think it over.”

Kopil extended his hand. “Do what you claim you can, Caleb Altemoc. If you don’t succeed, you’ll probably die.”

“It won’t come to that, sir,” Caleb said.

Salt breeze from the Pax ruffled his hair. The city surrounded him: music from Andrej’s band, muffled conversation from the bar, cries of construction workers on the pyramid across the way.

He took the King in Red’s hand.

Power struck him, filled him, shone through his scars. The long scroll of history began to write itself.

He did not know what he was doing. But sometimes, when you didn’t know, you had to bluff.

He looked Kopil in the eye and grinned.

Many people offered comments on various versions of this book, among them, alphabetically: Alana Abbott, Christopher Ashley, Vladimir Barash, John Chu, Anne Cross, Amy Eastment, Miguel Garcia, Tom and Burki Gladstone, Dan Hammond, David Hartwell, Weronika Janczuk, Kristin Janz, Marlys Jarstfer, Siana LaForest, Lauren Marino, Sarah Miller, Stephanie Neely, Marco Palmieri, Margaret Ronald, and Marshall Weir. Failures to heed their warnings and advice are, as always, mine. Thanks to all my friends and family for their love, support, and patience.

And especially to Steph, best friend, constant companion, dearest love. She has not, yet, tried to destroy the world, for which my thanks.