by Tamsyn Muir
The King Undying had asked her to follow him. All she wanted was to be alone and weep.
“Or—you can go back home again,” he said. “I have not assumed you’ll agree with me. I will not force you or buy you. I will keep covenant with your House whether you come with me or stay at home.”
Harrow said, “We can’t go home again.”
There was a vague reflection of her in the window, interrupted by distant space fields pocketed thick with stars. She turned away. If she saw herself in a mirror, she might fight herself: if she saw herself in a mirror, she might find a trace of Gideon Nav, or worse—she might not find anything, she might find nothing at all.
So the universe was ending. Good. At least if she failed here, she would no longer have to be beholden to anybody. Harrow touched her cheek and was surprised to find her fingertips came away wet, and that the Necrolord Prime had chivalrously lowered his gaze.
She said, “I will have to go back eventually.”
“I know,” said the Emperor.
“I need to find out what happened to my cavalier’s body. I need to know what happened to the others.”
“Of course.”
“But for now,” said Harrow, “I will be your Lyctor, Lord, if you will have me.”
The Emperor said, “Then rise, Harrowhark the First.”
Harrowhark will return in
HARROW THE NINTH
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to express my very great appreciation for my agent, Jennifer Jackson, both for her enthusiasm and her tireless work on behalf of Gideon the Ninth. My thanks are also extended to my incredible editor, Carl Engle-Laird; I can’t begin to outline everything he has done for me and this novel, except to say that if it was a labour of love on my part it was a hundred labours of love on his. Thanks for being a Sixth House stalwart to the end, Carl.
Particular thanks are due to the staff at Tor.com—Irene Gallo, Mordicai Knode, Katharine Duckett, Ruoxi Chen, and everyone else on the team—whose hard work and support I have deeply appreciated over the editing and publishing process.
I would like to acknowledge the work of Lissa Harris, who advised me on use of the rapier, off-hands, and the Zweihänder throughout this novel. Anything good, true, or beautiful about swordplay here is due to her; any mistake or rank stupidity is mine, probably because I ignored her advice in the first place. I’m thankful for her patience, wit, and insight, but would like to remind her here that hard-boiled eggs shouldn’t be added to potato salad. Fight me.
Special thanks also to Clemency Pleming and Megan Smith, my friends and first readers, whose support means I now possess a kitchen apron embroidered with the worst deleted meme from the manuscript. Their good humour and sympathy kept me sane—and also, now I have an apron.
I am grateful to my excellent Clarion instructors of 2010, and wish to particularly thank Jeff and Ann VanderMeer, knowing Jeff won’t mind if I especially highlight years of support, goodwill, and enthusiasm from Ann. Assistance provided by my classmates, whose work I enjoyed, whose advice I solicited, and whose boundless sympathy I took advantage of constantly over the years, proved invaluable. (Thanks, suckers.) For special services to this novel I’d like to thank Kali Wallace, the living embodiment of nolite te bastardes carborundorum; John Chu, for wholehearted kindness; and Kai Ashante Wilson, who gave me the gentle kick up the rear I needed to send out the manuscript.
Various people have supported me and this novel in general. I’m grateful for the love and support of my friends and family, in particular my brother, Andrew Muir, the guy who believed in my writing even when I was eleven and publishing turgid Animorphs fanfiction. His support for me in every avenue of my life has made me who I am today. Also, thanks for leaving critical anonymous reviews on my fanfiction.net masterpieces, jagoff.
Finally but most importantly, I acknowledge the ongoing contributions of Matt Hosty, who mopped blood, brewed tea, and corrected drafts with the patience of Griselda. Two more books and then I’ll never mention bones again, I swear to God.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
TAMSYN MUIR is a horror, fantasy and sci-fi author whose short fiction has been nominated for the Nebula Award, the Shirley Jackson Award, the World Fantasy Award, and the Eugie Foster Memorial Award. A Kiwi, she has spent most of her life in Howick, New Zealand, with time living in Waiuku and central Wellington. She currently lives and works in Oxford, in the United Kingdom. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Dramatis Personae
Epigraph
Act One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Act Two
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Act Three
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Act Four
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Act Five
Chapter 37
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
GIDEON THE NINTH
Copyright © 2019 by Tamsyn Muir
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Tommy Arnold
A Tor.com Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates
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New York, NY 10271
www.tor.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC.
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-31319-5 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-31317-1 (ebook)
eISBN 9781250313171
Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800- 221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at [email protected].
First Edition: September 2019
