Painted Devils, page 44
RUIN
Start not from the end, now. You start at the end to untangle the threads.
To make the braid, you start at the beginning.
* * *
Once upon a time, a mother sat in a bed painted red in a small, crowded home. The bloody sheets had been changed and washed, the other children banished from the room. In her arms, she held a tiny wriggling girl with eyes as black as her own, the last she would ever bear. And the mother spoke the words like a promise, like a curse:
“You ruined me. Everything you love, you’ll ruin.”
* * *
Once upon a time, a girl fled into the night on a dark horse. The riot of the Wild Hunt leapt and sang all around, but no matter how they tried, she only clung to her mount, wordless, and could not be consoled. She had fled her greatest love, fled her family, fled the ghost of a curse she was desperate to break.
But the augur’s promise had come to pass: The girl rode through the night sky, and despite the ghostly company, their rousing songs, their merry chases, she was weeping.
And she was alone.
* * *
Once upon a time, a cruel maid came to the stone lanes of Welkenrode.
It was a bitter night, autumn leaves rattling across the cobbles, and no trace of moon lingered in the sky to shed any comforting glow. That troubled the cruel maiden not one bit. She knew where she was going.
She passed a long-closed dress shop, a milliner’s with the proprietress still bustling around within, but spared them not a glance. She only came to a stop at a store with windows barred in iron and simmering yellow, the better to keep its secrets inside.
The bell chimed as she pushed open the door. No one was at the counter, or anywhere in the sprawling disastrous workroom. So the maiden glided over to one wall, studying the collection of pitiful treasures, marveling at how such trash could carry scraps of power.
And then she found what she was looking for.
“Saints and martyrs, Betze,” harped a man as he blustered into the workroom from the back. “I told you—Excuse me, hands off. What do you want?”
Irmgard von Hirsching did not take her hands off.
Instead she looked to Ozkar Ros, smiled her poisoned-sugar smile, and asked, “How much for the ribbon?”
THE PFENNIGEIST WILL
RETURN IN BOOK 3 …
GLOSSARY
Noble Titles & Governing Bodies
Blessed Emperor: ruler of the Blessed Empire of Almandy. Elected from one of the seven royal bloodlines by the Kronwähler.
komte/komtesse: count/countess; nobles who manage smaller territories within margraviates and principalities, and serve as vassals to the higher-ranked ruling families.
Kronwähler: the somewhat-inconsistent body of electors who can elect an emperor. Comprised of the seven prinzeps-wahl, and up to twenty-seven other cardinals and delegates representing various imperial interests and factions.
markgraf/markgräfin: margrave/margravine; noble rank for rulers of the border marches of the empire, which command the most powerful of the empire’s armies. In exchange for military strength, these noble families have given up their eligibility for any member to be elected as Blessed Emperor.
prinz-wahl/prinzessin-wahl/prinzeps-wahl: prince/princess/princeps-elector; a noble descended from one of the seven royal bloodlines, who rule over principalities in the empire. The royal houses vary in power and influence, but beyond a small security force, they cannot maintain their own military. One designated member of the family is eligible to be elected Blessed Emperor … if there’s a job opening.
All Things Wicked and Godly
Briar Hag: leader of a region’s Mossfolk, with command of the forest itself.
deildegast: a grimling of the Deep North, born from the ghost of someone who tampers with boundaries.
grimling/grimlingen: lesser malevolent supernatural creatures.
kobold: hearth spirits who protect the home … so long as they’re shown the proper respect.
idisi: feminine spirits who shepherd the souls of dead soldiers. Sometimes found with regional Wild Hunts.
loreley/loreleyn: beautiful water-women with fish-like tails who lure fishers to their deaths.
Low Gods: manifestations of human beliefs, imbued with various powers. Unlike the unnamable and unknowable High Gods, Low Gods have specific names and roles, but these change regionally in response to local lore.
Mossfolk: various spirits of the forest, including dryad-like woodwives, impish waldskrotchen, and terrifying Rye Mothers.
nachtmahr/nachtmären: grimlingen that control and feed on bad dreams, occasionally stealing the dreamer and riding them through the night.
sakretwaren: Holy wares sold outside temples, such as prayer incense, luck charms, makeshift relics, pre-made offerings, ritual supplies, etc.
vila: capricious feminine wind spirits as fond of dancing as they are of hunting.
Wildejogt: The Wild Hunt, led by various Low Gods in the dead of night. Riders may be other spirits, local gods, human volunteers, or those who have displeased the leader.
Currency
gelt/gilden: gold coin, worth 10 white pennies, 50 sjilling, or 500 red pennies.
rotpfenni: red penny, made of copper. Lowest form of imperial currency.
sjilling: shilling, made of bronze. Worth 10 red pennies.
weysserpfenni: white penny, made of silver. Worth 5 sjilling.
Miscellaneous Terms & Expressions
damfnudeln: steamed sweet dumplings.
glohwein: sweetened spiced red wine, served warm in the winter.
brandtwein: strong liquor made from distilled wine.
mietling/mietlingen: Hireling, the polite-neutral term for a sex worker.
Pfennigeist: The Penny Phantom, and none of your business.
scheit: crap, crud. Strongly favored by discerning narrators.
sjoppen: mug, pint.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I think I would like to first acknowledge a nap, honestly. And I fully support you acknowledging one as well. Painted Devils is my first book drafted, edited, and released during a global pandemic, and if there’s anything I’ve learned from that, it’s that we all really need a nap.
The thing they don’t tell you about your fourth book is that you have to keep coming up with new material for acknowledgments without cannibalizing the previous three, and by this time, the list of names you owe a firstborn to is getting extremely long. (Which means if I ever slip up and have a kid, we’d all better buckle in for a wild remake of the Judgment of Solomon.) I don’t think it would be possible to list everyone without pulping an acre of the Amazon, but I’ve assembled a sampling of the wonderful folks who made this book possible. And because I am an incurable Virgo, it’s coming to you as a bullet list:
• My agent, Victoria Marini, who has gone to bat for me so many times now, and swung so hard, the Yankees are trying to lure her into the stadium with a set of brass knuckles and an Airtable under a propped-up box.
• My editor, Jess Harold, who has been graciously juggling a myriad of flaming chainsaws since stepping into the role, including one chainsaw for my typeface opinions and one for getting me to actually do my job.
• The Sales, Marketing, and Publicity teams at MacKids, who have taken on the unenviable task of pitching my feral girls, grumpy noodle boys, and viscerally upsetting magic systems, and somehow turned it into an art form. Morgan, Teresa, Molly, Allison, Mariel, Mary, all masters of the craft! And speaking of art: shout-out to Mike Corley for continuing the streak of absurdly great covers, and Rich Deas and Maria Williams for once again designing a gorgeous book.
• My publishing teams abroad, who have put so much love and effort into bringing these books to places I can only dream of.
• My author community: Hanna, my partner in Petty Auntiehood; Elle, Claribel, Tara, Laura, Linsey, my fellow Margaret, and everyone who’s put up with my Shakespearean monologues in the DMs; Ayana and Rosie, who let me traumatize them with the early draft and still haven’t blocked me on everywhere; and every author who’s taken the time to read and/or boost my nonsense. It takes a village, so thank you for putting up with this particular cat-lady-possible-witch.
• The booksellers who have been pushing my work so hard for a while I expected a visit from the DEA; your support has kept my career alive, which is? probably? a net positive? Time will tell. My gratitude, nonetheless, is eternal.
• The readers who have managed to restore my HP throughout 2021 and 2022 through their lovely and heartfelt reviews, emails, fan art, photos, playlists, cosplays—truly an embarrassment of riches. I’m so glad the book found you. You’re probably very worried now after that ending, but have a little faith. (Just not enough to fake a god.)
• My friends and family outside of publishing, who are probably confused that I’ve kept at this for five years, but have been good sports about it overall. No, I still can’t tell you confidential news. I still appreciate your enthusiasm. And to my parents in particular: This book definitely wasn’t about you, and that’s a good thing.
• Once again, my cats have merited an acknowledgment. Sadly, my dapperest of gentlemen made a very sudden departure from my world last year, and I still miss his weird little self and his gloriously fluffy belly. My old grandpa cat and the two parkouring demon kittens have helped ease that quite a bit, as well as turning the apartment into a cat sitcom premise, and I am at least a little thankful for that. Less thankful for the damage to my houseplants.
• And as ever, to the awful girls: You are wanted as you are.
ALSO BY
MARGARET OWEN
Little Thieves
The Merciful Crow Duology:
The Merciful Crow
The Faithless Hawk
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Margaret Owen was born and raised at the end of the Oregon Trail and has worked in everything from thrift stores to presidential campaigns. She is the author of the instant Indie Bestseller Little Thieves, which received five starred reviews and was a Kids’ Indie next pick and YALSA Best Fiction for Young Adults Selection. Her debut, The Merciful Crow duology, was an NPR Best Book of the Year, a Tor.com Best of the Year, and a YALSA Best Fiction for Young Adults Selection.
In her free time, she enjoys exploring ill-advised travel destinations, raising money for social justics nonprofits through her illustrated work, and negotiating a hostage situation with her monstrous cats. She lives in Seattle, Washington. You can find her across social media @what_eats_owls. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Author’s Note
Epigraph
Part One: Red Prophets
The Seventh Lie: Faith
Chapter One: The Miracle of the Bridge
Chapter Two: The Good Proctor
Chapter Three: Distractions
Chapter Four: Claims
Chapter Five: Miss Schmidt
Chapter Six: Consultation
Chapter Seven: The Fix
Chapter Eight: Crystal and Glass
Chapter Nine: Hands at Work
Chapter Ten: Rise and Shine
The Sixth Lie: Worth
Chapter Eleven: The Needle
Chapter Twelve: Patrons
Chapter Thirteen: Ribbon
Part Two: Scarlet Thorns
The Fifth Lie: Desire
Chapter Fourteen: Flame to Fuse
Chapter Fifteen: The Lantern
Chapter Sixteen: A Prefect's Time
The Fourth Lie: Family
Chapter Seventeen: Couples' Activities
Chapter Eighteen: Beautiful
Chapter Nineteen: The Waltz
Chapter Twenty: The Thirteenth
The Third Lie: Home
Chapter Twenty-One: Deadweight
Chapter Twenty-Two: Villanelle
Chapter Twenty-Three: Augur's Tears
Part Three: Harvest Mothers
Chapter Twenty-Four: Official Business
Chapter Twenty-Five: Old Friends
Chapter Twenty-Six: The Huntress
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Favors
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Entrapment
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Rainfall
The Second Lie: Trust
Chapter Thirty: Homecoming
Chapter Thirty-One: Transcendent
Chapter Thirty-Two: The Way of Briars
Chapter Thirty-Three: The Way Out
Chapter Thirty-Four: A Crown of Gold
Chapter Thirty-Five: How I Met Your Mother
Chapter Thirty-Six: Penny Ghost
The First Lie: Ruin
Glossary
Acknowledgments
Also by Margaret Owen
About the Author
Copyright
Copyright © 2023 by Margaret Owen
Henry Holt and Company, LLC, Publishers since 1866
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First hardcover edition 2023
eBook edition 2023
eISBN 9781250831156
Margaret Owen, Painted Devils
