Here we are again, back with my beloved Price family for another exercise in terrible decision-making and worse self-preservation skills. I’ve been waiting to tell Sarah’s story since the beginning; I hope it was worth the wait for you. It absolutely has been for me. My poor cuckoo-girl, getting everything she’s ever wanted and losing it in the same breath. Don’t worry, though. She has another book to come, Calculated Risks, which will be out next year at the usual time. And as you can see, Alice is up to her old tricks again—we’re going to have an eventful few years around the family compound!
I live in the Seattle area. We have not, historically, gotten a lot of snow here. When we do get snow, it’s a shock to our infrastructure, and sometimes we all get trapped in our homes. This happened during the writing of this book, and I wound up calling a bunch of snowed-in math nerds to ask them to come up with some utterly bonkers equations for Lee Moyer to use as cover reference. Thanks to Torrey Stenmark, Matthew Dockrey, and Alexis Nast, for giving up some of their snowbound hours to make our math suitably ridiculous. Thanks also to Lee Moyer, for stepping in to do our cover when Aly Fell needed a break. They’re both amazing.
My machete squad is one of the best in the world, and I will fight anyone who says they’re not. Without them, I would make infinitely more mistakes, and be infinitely sadder. Chris Mangum maintains my website code, while Tara O’Shea maintains my graphics, and they are so good. Thanks to everyone at DAW, the best home my heart could have, and to the wonderful folks in marketing and publicity at Penguin Random House.
Sarah has been with me for a long time, and because of that, I must pause to thank Phil Ames, who can be blamed for this entire series, Martha Hage, and Grant Morrison, who may never know how responsible he is for so many things. I am so incredibly glad to finally be telling you all her story.
Cat update (I know you all live for these): Thomas has adjusted to life without Alice far better than his fictional counterpart. He’s still an anxious boy, and has to wear his shirts for the rest of his life to keep him from getting too stressed out, but he’s doing okay. Megara is as soft as she is stupid, and she is very soft; it’s like petting a particularly dim cloud. And our newest problem child, Elsie, has become unquestioned queen of everything, and is sitting on the back of my chair even now, watching me type this. Everyone gets along, which is wonderful, and we had a catio installed in the summer of 2019, so now they get to pretend to be wild beasts whenever they like.
And now, more gratitude. Thank you to the people who’ve come to see me at bookstores and conventions around the country and the world; to Kate for always being willing and ready to step up when I need her; to Sari, for parties and Ponies; to Michelle Dockrey, for continuing to answer the phone; to Chris Mangum, for daily support; to Steve and Laura, for emergency soup and cheese; and to my dearest Amy McNally, for everything. Thanks to Borderlands Books, for putting up with me. And to you: thank you, so much, for reading.
Any errors in this book are my own. The errors that aren’t here are the ones that all these people helped me fix. I appreciate it so much.
Let’s do some math.