ACKNOWLEDGMENTS My gratitude to the following people for their help, confidence, and being some of the best friends a writer could have: Richard Curtis, Tom Doherty, Alexis Ortega, Eric Raab, and John Sutherland.
EDITOR’S NOTE We at Tor have received numerous requests to publish the many-volume set of Gods of the First and Twenty-first Century, as well as the notorious Golden’s Guide to Extraordinary Books and, of course, the apocalyptically difficult to obtain and decipher Mythica Improbiba. At this time, however, the rights for these rare books (and others within All That Lives Must Die) reside with academic institutes, religious organizations, and private collectors. While excerpts have been graciously provided for Mr. Nylund’s footnotes, the remaining bodies of these works are fated to remain in obscurity (and please, please stop sending me e-mail and letters about this).
ERIC RAAB
Editor, Tor Books
New York
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Do not for ever with thy vailed lids
Seek for thy noble father in the dust:
Thou know’st ’tis common; all that lives must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.
HAMLET
Ay, madam, it is common.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
If it be,
Why seems it so particular with thee?
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Hamlet (act 1, scene 2)
WHAT I DID OVER MY SUMMER VACATION by Fiona Paige Post This summer, my brother and I joined the League of Immortals. One minute, I’m a homeschooled hermit; the next, I’m a fledgling goddess-in-training and the newest member of the Order of the Celestial Rose.
You’d think, being an actual goddess, I’d end up with killer Botticelli hair. No luck there, I’m afraid.
Let me start at the beginning.
Gods and fallen angels exist.
And they don’t get along.
Despite this, sixteen years ago-Atropos, the Eldest Fate, and Lucifer, Prince of Darkness, fell in love.
They’re my mother and father.
When my twin brother and I were born, my mother didn’t want either side of the family finding us. Neither the gods nor fallen angels treat their nieces and nephews well: turning them into animals, trees, weeping stones, or casting them into pits of eternal torture. Nice, huh?
So for fifteen years, my brother, Eliot, and I were hidden from our relatives and raised to think we were nerdy and normal.
The Immortals found us, however, and to decide which family we belong to-diabolical or divine- they subjected us to three life-or-death tests (what they prosaically called heroic trials).
Long story short: We passed their tests and came out divine.
It wasn’t all happy endings, though. My father’s side of the family still wanted us. The Infernal Lord of All That Flies, Beelzebub, almost killed us and dragged our souls to Hell. That ended in a huge fight in Del Sombra (where we used to live); I killed Beelzebub, and the entire town burned to the ground.
Our father said he still wants to get to know us, but I don’t think Mother is going to let him.
I agree. I don’t trust him.
After all this, my brother, mother, great-grandmother, and I went to San Francisco, and we’ve barely moved into a new place in time for school.
It has been a tumultuous summer. I just want to settle down and begin at the Paxington Institute so I can figure out how I fit into this new world where legends are real.
September 22, San Francisco
________
WHAT I DID OVER MY SUMMER VACATION by Eliot Zachariah Post This summer, I found out that my father and mother are alive. My sister and I spent our entire lives thinking they were dead, told that they were drowned in a boat accident.
One more thing: Our mother is the goddess Atropos, and our father is Lucifer, Prince of Darkness.
Mother’s side of the family are gods and goddesses in the League of Immortals. They smile at you, but you can see them thinking behind those smiles, wondering how you fit in their orderly view of the world.
And Dad’s side of the family? Not so wonderful, either. They tried to kill me and my sister, Fiona. They also managed to poison Fiona with a box of magical chocolates.
Besides our parents, we discovered another important thing this summer: We inherited special powers from our families.
Fiona can cut with a thread stretched between her fingers, kind of like a wire cheese slicer. When I say “cut,” I mean she can cut through anything when she puts her mind to it: cinder block walls, a solid steel vault door, even a person. I’m not sure how she keeps the thread from cutting off her fingers. She doesn’t talk much about it.
