Dead Man's Hand (The Unorthodox Chronicles, Band 1) - Hardcover

Butcher, James J.

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 0593440412 ISBN 13: 9780593440414

Verlag: Ace, 2022

Inhaltsangabe

In the tradition of his renowned father, James J. Butcher’s debut novel is a brilliant urban fantasy about a young man who must throw out the magical rule book to solve the murder of his former mentor.

On the streets of Boston, the world is divided into the ordinary Usuals, and the paranormal Unorthodox. And in the Department of Unorthodox Affairs, the Auditors are the magical elite, government-sanctioned witches with spells at their command and all the power and prestige that comes with it. Grimshaw Griswald Grimsby is…not one of those witches.
 
After flunking out of the Auditor training program and being dismissed as “not Department material,” Grimsby tried to resign himself to life as a mediocre witch. But he can’t help hoping he’ll somehow, someway, get another chance to prove his skill. That opportunity comes with a price when his former mentor, aka the most dangerous witch alive, is murdered down the street from where he works, and Grimsby is the Auditors’ number one suspect.
 
Proving his innocence will require more than a little legwork, and after forming a strange alliance with the retired legend known as the Huntsman and a mysterious being from Elsewhere, Grimsby is abruptly thrown into a life of adventure, whether he wants it or not. Now all he has to do is find the real killer, avoid the Auditors on his trail, and most importantly, stay alive.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

JAMES J. BUTCHER spends most of his time in places that don’t exist, some of which he even made himself. What little time he has left is usually spent writing or exercising. He is the son of #1 New York Times bestselling author Jim Butcher, who introduced him to books, movies, and games. James lives in Denver and is working on his next novel.

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One

I'm not sure what I did to deserve this," Grimshaw Griswald Grimsby said, "but I'm sorry."

He stared at his tutu in the cracked mirror. It was pink. Not just calm, natural, happy pink. Aggressively pink. The kind of pink that made infants cry and attracted bees. The fabric was drawn taut overtop his T-shirt, pulling the material tight until it scratched uncomfortably against the faded burn scars that marred much of his left side.

Carla, the restaurant manager, shrugged her broad shoulders. "Taco Tuesdays aren't pulling in the folks like they used to," she said. "We need something shocking to get people's attention."

"I do magic," Grimsby said, turning his back to the mirror to examine the handmade taco-shell wings that had been stapled haphazardly to the back of the tutu. "Real magic. How is that less shocking than this?"

"People can see magic anywhere," Carla said. "You're not the only witch in the world, Grimsby, and you're far from the best."

"Then why hire me at all?"

"You're the only one who applied. Now, if you want to continue working for Mighty Magic Donald's Food Kingdom, turn around and let me fix the back."

Grimsby most definitely did not want to continue working for Mighty Magic Donald's Food Kingdom, but he turned around anyway, his eyes falling to the floor. The lacy skirt didn't bother him as much as the clutching, constricting fabric did. He danced uncomfortably from one foot to the other, trying to dislodge things from places where he preferred no lodging take place.

Carla had suggested he exchange his jeans for tights, but he had decided that was not going to happen. The last thing anyone needed to see were his pale, skinny legs. Well, perhaps second to last.

"It's just once a week," Carla said, "and only until Taco Tuesday picks up again! Although, if it does really well, we could just make it Taco Fairy Tuesday. After all, Wizard Pie Wednesday is a hit . . ."

Grimsby tried to imagine wearing the outfit once a week for the foreseeable future. It hurt him the same way it hurt when he had found his first gray hair more than a year ago. At nineteen. It was a deep hurt, with a pain that held every indication of only getting worse with time.

"I will quit."

"And go where?" she asked, picking at a crease in the eye-punching-pink cloth.

"There's lots of places hiring the Unorthodox," Grimsby said, his tone defensive.

She scoffed. "Sure, but they're not being hired to be Unorthodox, Grimsby," she said. "They're being hired in spite of being Unorthodox. Therian accountants. Vamp security guards. Outside of the Department or maybe private contractors, no one's looking to hire a witch."

Grimsby felt his throat go taut, but he clenched his jaw. "You are."

"Not a real witch. Just-one like you," she said, the words without malice, but that somehow made them hurt worse. "After all, you're barely licensed to use magic at all. You've got, what, spinning plates and that magical duct-tape trick?"

"They're not tricks," Grimsby said quietly. They were real magic. His magic.

"Whatever. Look, no one who doesn't want a witch will hire you, and anyone who does want a witch can find a better one. You're stuck with me, and I'm stuck with you."

He wanted to argue, but she was right.

He had spent most of his childhood training to join the Department of Unorthodox Affairs. After they had denied him entry, he hadn't had many options. It had taken him nearly a month just to get this job. People weren't exactly banging down the doors to hire failed witches. Or any witches, for that matter. Outside of strict, Department-regulated capacities, magic was heavily regulated. So why hire a witch when any Usual would do?

So he couldn't just up and quit, despite how much he wanted to. He needed the work. Bad. Badly enough that he let himself be dressed in costumes three days-make that four-a week. And that didn't include holidays, though after last year's lawsuit he doubted Carla would make him portray Santa again. He didn't have the build for it anyway. What kind of Santa Claus is five six and a hundred and thirty pounds?

The not-so-jolly kind, that was for certain.

He glared at the wings again. Carla had glued thin, brightly colored fabric in the curvature of the shells to replicate taco fixings. She had even liberally applied red, green, and brown glitter for seasoning. Where would anyone find brown glitter, anyway?

"Toad's teeth," he cursed quietly.

"Why do you always swear so strangely?" Carla asked idly, pinning a faltering wing back into place. "It's off-putting."

Grimsby shrugged. "My mother didn't like cursing," he said.

"Must be a witch thing," Carla said without any real interest. "Nearly done. Here." She placed the final, knife-twisting touch into his hand. It was a plastic tube with a rubber avocado hot-glued to the end.

"Is this a pencil eraser?" Grimsby asked, staring forlornly at the avocado.

"You noticed? Darn! I was hoping it was more subtle than that. It's a wand anyhow. Don't you need to use a wand for your tricks?"

"They're not tricks," Grimsby snapped.

"Well," Carla said with a tone and head tilt that insinuated that they were, in fact, tricks.

He sighed. "No, I do not need to use a wand."

"Oh. Have you tried? Maybe it would help with your . . . you know." She gestured vaguely to all of him.

He took a deep breath, stretching the pink cloth to the limit. "Yeah. Maybe it'll help," he said mechanically.

"Good." She stepped back as much as the cramped janitorial closet allowed and examined him one final time. "So, how do you feel?"

He tugged at the constrictive tutu. "Like I need to pay rent," he said.

"That's what I like to hear!"

Grimsby only grumbled.

Tutu, taco wings, and avocado wand. By these atrocities combined, he had changed from Grimsby, mild-mannered children's magician, to an abomination whose name could only be uttered in horrified whispers: the Taco Fairy.

Now it was showtime.

Grimsby sidled out of the closet, ducking under the barrage of reminders Carla shouted after him as she tidied the makeshift dressing room. He let the door shut behind him and leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep breath. He had hoped the air would be fresh and bracing. Instead, it just smelled like burnt cheese and was exhausting.

There was a flushing sound from across the hall and a man stepped out of the restroom, wiping his hands on the front of his pants. His eyes locked with Grimsby's for a brief moment, before they fell upon the tutu and wings. The man nearly choked as he tried to stifle his laughter. He shook his head and continued past Grimsby toward the dining room without saying a word.

Grimsby puffed out a breath through his cheeks. He could handle embarrassment well enough. He wouldn't have made it this long at MMDFK unless he could. He occasionally flubbed his lines or jumbled up his spells. He was a human, after all, and not even a particularly good one.

But he would have appreciated it if people laughed at him because of his own mistakes, not the crimes of others. Then, at least, he might have deserved it.

No one was so low that they deserved the Taco Fairy.

Yet Taco Fairy he would deliver upon them, though it would come at a terrible price.

Minimum wage.

He straightened himself up. Pride was a luxury, but it was also relative. If he was going to wear a pink tutu and taco-shell wings, he was going to wear a pink tutu and taco-shell wings, dang it.

He straightened himself and strolled into the dining area of the restaurant, which was hardly more than a dozen booths and five or six tables. There was a handful of adults scattered around the seats,...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Ace
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2022
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593440412
• ISBN 13: 9780593440414
• Einband: Gebundene Ausgabe
• Anzahl der Seiten: 384
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: ACE; https://www.penguin.com/; ; Bachstelzenweg 10; Ibbenb?ren; 49479; Deutschland