Autorentext
New York Times bestselling author Anne Bishop is a winner of the William L. Crawford Memorial Fantasy Award, presented by the International Association for the Fantastic in the Arts, for The Black Jewels Trilogy. She lives in upstate New York.

Klappentext

A young detective investigating crimes of the uncanny will learn that bargains can change your fate—for good or ill—in this darkly enthralling fantasy from the New York Times bestselling author of the Others and the Black Jewels series.

Words have power. Intentions matter.

Most people come to Destiny Park for entertainment. They come to have their cards read to tell them a bit about their future. They come to walk through a beautiful park and to eat at the hotel’s restaurant. They come in the hope of catching a glimpse of the Arcana, the paranormal beings who rule the Isle of Wyrd.

But some people come to make a bargain with the Arcana—to change their fate. And some people come for dark purposes.

When Detective Beth Fahey is sent to Destiny Park to inquire about a “ghost gun,” she will begin a strange journey on which she must learn to navigate the Arcana’s unforgiving laws and dangerous attractions. Her search will draw her into seemingly impossible cases and the secrets of her own past as tensions rise between the Arcana and their human neighbors across the river.

For the Isle of Wyrd is a place where the dead ride trains to their final destinations, predators literally become prey, and seekers’ true natures are revealed in the ripples of destiny unknowingly stirred in their wakes.

Who will live? Who will die? And who will be lost in between?

Leseprobe
1

Detective Beth Fahey opened the next "solved" case file and wondered if reading through these reports was really necessary or if this was busywork her colleagues had found for the new, and only, female detective on the Penwych police force's special investigations team. She'd been told these files were examples of what the team investigated when called in by any of the police in the six towns located on the outer bank of the Fate River.

This case from the police in the town of Barker, for example.

A man who went out hunting with some friends had shot and killed a migratory goose (no mention in the file about whether shooting geese was legal at that time of year). Instead of taking the goose home, he gave it to his friends, because his wife was severely allergic to feathers.

The next day, the wife heard strange sounds coming from their backyard and discovered their in-ground pool was packed with geese. In fact, their entire yard was packed with geese. When several geese rushed toward her in a threatening manner, the wife went inside, screamed for her husband, and managed to call emergency services before she began wheezing and struggling to breathe, either from the number of feathered assailants in her yard or from a panic attack.

Coming out of the family room to see what his wife was fussing about, the man heard her wheezing, saw the geese, and fetched his rifle instead of having the sense to stay inside and let the authorities handle rounding up the geese.

He stepped outside, raised his rifle, and was immediately attacked by several geese. The unanticipated attack threw off his aim, and instead of shooting any of the geese, he managed to shoot the fuel tank on his neighbor's fancy new grill. The grill exploded, and the resulting fire not only damaged the neighbor's house but cooked a couple of unlucky geese.

The special team was called in because the wife claimed she'd had her tarot cards read the week before by the acquaintance of a friend, and it had been predicted that a disaster would occur if her husband tried to shoot creatures that were unable to defend themselves. (There was some debate about whether geese qualified as "unable to defend themselves.")

An inquiry was made. After talking to the individuals who ran Destiny Park, it was concluded that, while the series of events was strange, the Isle of Wyrd was not involved, and neither the man nor his wife had made a bargain with the Arcana.

Beth shook her head. She didn't discount tarot readings or any other means of tapping into a person's intuition, but why did the towns around the Fate River need a special team to investigate things like geese in someone's yard?

Then again, this had been one of the few "amusing" cases she'd reviewed. The others . . .

How was anyone supposed to deal with what she'd seen in some of those crime scene photos?

Maybe that was the point of this review-to find out if she could deal with the gruesome cases the team was required to investigate. Last fall, there had been four detectives on the team, along with two officers and Captain Forrester. Something had happened. No one would-or could-say exactly what that was, but one of those detectives transferred out of the 13th precinct to avoid any contact with the team, and another detective was on extended medical leave and wasn't likely to return.

She had been hired to fill one of those positions. She'd been given a week to find a place to live in Penwych and get herself settled before reporting to work. She'd spent last week reading old reports and looking at crime scene photos. And yet when she studied some of those photos, she could almost see dark and seductive shapes in the background, could almost hear words whispered in a language that might be understood in dreams.

Looking beyond the deaths, she could almost see the terrible married to the sublime and hear the warning: they chose this.

Not thoughts she would acknowledge to the psychologist who had the task of assessing police officers' mental health. She was sure there was already a notation in her file about her interest in macabre imagery and dark fantasy artwork, courtesy of Bonnie Wilson, the woman she had lived with while growing up-a woman who preferred religious pictures that included self-flagellation and went beyond what Beth considered gruesome and gory.

Tom Castelletti, the team's senior detective, walked into the area of the 13th precinct that was reserved for the special team, glanced at Captain Forrester's closed office door, and placed a file on Beth's desk.

"This one is hot," he said. "Read it. I'll be back with Kuhn in a few minutes, and we'll do the coin toss to see who has to cross the river."

He left, glancing again at the captain's closed door.

The coin toss had been mentioned once before. Beth thought it was an odd way to decide which detective on the team had to interview . . . What, exactly? A confidential informant? A local politician? Another cop?

According to Castelletti, all the detectives on the team participated. The two most senior officers began the coin toss. It was elimination in reverse, where winning the toss meant you were excused.

Shaking her head, Beth opened the file and focused her attention on this current case. She read the information, then read it again. It had to be a joke, because what the autopsy said wasn't possible. Couldn't be possible, and yet . . .

The frisson that ran through her told her that what she was reading was true.

Tom Castelletti and Detective Ian Kuhn returned.

Castelletti gave her a long look, then gestured to indicate she should join them around the big evidence table. "You've read the file?"

"I don't understand it, but I've read it," Beth replied.

"One of us is going to have to cross the river and make inquiries." Castelletti studied her. "You remember what we said about the coin toss?"

She nodded.

Castelletti lost the coin toss to Kuhn, and Beth lost to Castelletti, who looked relieved and uneasy.

He's spooked, she thought as a door opened.

Captain Charles Forrester stepped out of his office and looked at …