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Beneath the Sugar Sky

Seanan McGuire
Chapters (27)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Part I: The Empty Spaces
  6. Home Again
  7. 1. One Door Opens, Another Is Blown Off Its Hinges
  8. 2. Gravity Happens to the Best of Us
  9. 3. Dead Woman’s Daughter
  10. Part II: Into the Halls of the Dead
  11. 4. What We Bury Is Not Lost, Only Set Aside
  12. 5. Places of the Living, Places of the Dead
  13. 6. We Pay What We Pay; The World Goes On
  14. Part III: Bake Me A Mountain, Frost Me A Sky
  15. 7. Prisoners of Someone Else’s War
  16. 8. The Tallest Tower
  17. 9. Dancing with the Queen of Cakes
  18. 10. The Candy Corn Farm
  19. Part IV: This Is Where We Change the World
  20. 11. Sugar and Spice and Paying the Price
  21. 12. The Baker’s Story
  22. Part V: What Came After
  23. 13. Time to Go
  24. 14. The Drowned Girl
  25. Also by Seanan McGuire
  26. About the Author
  27. Newsletter Sign-up

Title Page

Copyright Notice

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Dedication

FOR MIDORI,

WHOSE DOORWAY IS WAITING

Epigraph

Sugar, flour, and cinnamon won’t make a house a home,

So bake your walls of gingerbread and sweeten them with bone.

Eggs and milk and whipping cream, butter in the churn,

Bake our queen a castle in the hopes that she’ll return.

—CHILDREN’S CLAPPING RHYME, CONFECTION

Part I: The Empty Spaces

PART I

THE EMPTY SPACES

Home Again

HOME AGAIN

CHILDREN HAVE ALWAYS tumbled down rabbit holes, fallen through mirrors, been swept away by unseasonal floods or carried off by tornadoes. Children have always traveled, and because they are young and bright and full of contradictions, they haven’t always restricted their travel to the possible. Adulthood brings limitations like gravity and linear space and the idea that bedtime is a real thing, and not an artificially imposed curfew. Adults can still tumble down rabbit holes and into enchanted wardrobes, but it happens less and less with every year they live. Maybe this is a natural consequence of living in a world where being careful is a necessary survival trait, where logic wears away the potential for something bigger and better than the obvious. Childhood melts, and flights of fancy are replaced by rules. Tornados kill people: they don’t carry them off to magical worlds. Talking foxes are a sign of fever, not guides sent to start some grand adventure.

But children, ah, children. Children follow the foxes, and open the wardrobes, and peek beneath the bridge. Children climb the walls and fall down the wells and run the razor’s edge of possibility until sometimes, just sometimes, the possible surrenders and shows them the way to go home.

Becoming the savior of a world of wonder and magic before you turn fourteen does not exactly teach caution, in most cases, and many of the children who fall through the cracks in the world where they were born will one day find themselves opening the wrong door, peering through the wrong keyhole, and standing right back where they started. For some, this is a blessing. For some, it is easy to put the adventures and the impossibilities of the past behind them, choosing sanity and predictability and the world that they were born to be a part of. For others …