The Wingsnatchers

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by Sarah Jean Horwitz


  “Darling, open your eyes,” said her mother gently.

  Grit did.

  Her feet were no longer on the ground. She hovered over the Whispering Wall, looking down at her mother smiling up at her. She was a faerie with one wing—an impossible thing, she’d once thought—and she was flying.

  Carmer decided to go south. Winter in New England was not a good time for those who made their living on the road. He would be more likely to find receptive audiences in smaller towns with warmer climes. Such was the life of the traveling magician.

  He stood at the wheel of the Moto-Manse as it chugged down the road out of Skemantis, windows thrown open to the crisp fall breeze. Madame Euphemia and the Amazifier were headed west with her vardo, the puppets, and Eduardo. The Amazifier was planning a study of desert plants; in retirement, he hoped to continue his contributions to academia more seriously.

  When they bid each other good-bye at the circus camp, the Amazifier pulled Carmer into a gruff embrace.

  “The next time you get an inkling to muck about with faerie magic,” whispered the Amazifier as he patted Carmer on the back, “you might want to let an old man in on the joke.”

  He winked, tipped his hat, and rode off with a cackling Madame Euphemia before Carmer could even think of a reply.

  Kitty was settling in quite well at the Orbicle. Carmer had to pry her away from her work amidst a gaggle of equally impressively dressed women to say good-bye. She’d tried hard to stay angry with him, but failed miserably, and nearly suffocated him in a bone-crushing hug.

  “Spirits and zits, I’m glad all this nonsense is over with,” she said with a sigh. “But I’m sure gonna miss you, Carmer. We had some good times.”

  “You’ll have to tell me your secret for getting tomato stains out of our clothes,” said Carmer.

  Kitty laughed, but wrote it down for him just the same. She was always a practical girl. “You be careful now,” she said. “Try to stay out of trouble for once!”

  That time, Carmer laughed, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  Bumping along the road, he couldn’t help but feel that trouble was closer than ever before. He glanced at the woods on either side of him. He knew what kinds of things waited out there now, and he wasn’t sure if it made him feel better or worse. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Gideon Sharpe’s face in the train car, or the Mechanist’s last struggles before meeting his brutal end. His world had gotten bigger, but for the first time, he wasn’t sure if he wanted it to.

  And then something smacked into his head.

  He slammed on the Moto-Manse’s brakes and the house jerked to a halt, top floors swaying from the impact. He reached up to grab his new hat and felt familiar tiny hands bat him away.

  It seemed trouble wasn’t done with him just yet.

  “Hey, where’s the door on this one?”

  Carmer just smiled, put his foot on the accelerator, and kept on driving.

  Acknowledgments

  There are many wonderful people who helped Carmer and Grit make the journey from a sparkly idea knocking around in my head to the book you now hold in your hands. I would like to thank:

  My parents, for not blinking an eye when I told them my first project after graduating film school, was—wait for it—a novel, and for always keeping their door open.

  My partner, David, for listening to me ramble about my life and the lives of fictional people for hours on end. Also, for hugs and ice cream.

  Brooke Mills, best friend and writing soul mate. We speak troll, and it’s great. FLAIL. (Also-also, I know you’re Baelfire.)

  Harvard John, for invaluable feedback as the first pair of human eyeballs to read this whole book.

  Eric Bogosian, Alice Daken, David Kociemba, and all of the mentors and teachers I’ve had the privilege to learn about storytelling from. You make me want to do better every day.

  Victoria Marini, agent extraordinaire, for fierce advocacy and sage advice.

  My editor, Krestyna Lypen, and the whole team at Algonquin Young Readers. I am so happy that my first book can call Algonquin home. Thank you for taking a chance on Carmer, Grit, and me.

  Sarah Jean Horwitz was raised in suburban New Jersey where her love of storytelling grew from listening to her mother’s original “fractured fairy tales.” She lives in Boston, Massachusetts. Carmer and Grit: The Wingsnatchers is her first novel. You can visit her online at sarahjeanhorwitz.com and on Twitter: @sunshineJHwitz.

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  Published by

  Algonquin Young Readers

  an imprint of Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill

  Post Office Box 2225

  Chapel Hill, North Carolina 27515-2225

  a division of

  Workman Publishing

  225 Varick Street

  New York, New York 10014

  © 2017 by Sarah Jean Horwitz.

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN 978-1-61620-707-6

 

 

 


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