New Cover Art for The Other Half of the Sky
The cover art for The Other Half of the Sky has been released, and it's gorgeous.
You can also read more about it (and see a bigger version) at Athena Andreadis's blog.
ETA: And as soon as I posted this, Athena posted a link to artist Eleni Tsami's post on the making of the cover, which includes the full wrap-around version. Utterly spectacular!
And, to further celebrate, a snippet from my story in the collection, "Finders."
"Bad day?" Dai asked, carefully casual, and began unlatching the tins. The waiter-boy would come along after midnight and retrieve them from outside the door.
"So-so. Though I put together fresh BLUE for the ventral core, so that's a win." Cassilde set the tea to steep. "And you?"
Dai avoided her eyes. "All right. The snow's supposed to end tonight, you'll be clear in the morning."
"To do what?" She controlled the urge to clash the enameled iron cups that matched the kettle, set them gently on the counter instead. "We're not credentialed to bid on any of the jobs at hand."
And if they couldn't bid, there would be no money, and they were already at the end of their savings.... It was not something she needed to say, but Dai grimaced as though he'd heard them.
"I shouldn't have fired Lanton," he said. "I know that. But he was impossible."
"And he was skimming from the take," Cassilde said. "And you're right, that would have gotten us in trouble sooner or later. But we should have had the replacement in line first."
Dai dipped his head. He was a big man, taller than she by more than the breadth of his hand, and she was by no means small. A dangerous man, one might have said, looking at him, with his knotted muscles earned in high salvage, hauling significant mass in varying gravity, sandy hair cropped short, the evening's stubble coming in pale on his lantern jaw. She'd taken his measure long ago.
"We've had an inquiry," he said. It was something of a peace offering. "An answer to your notice."
"Oh?" She was intrigued in spite of herself. With new permits up for bid, on a new section of an Ancestor's wrecked sky palace, lost in long orbit for at least a hundred years, scholars with a class-one license could name their price. And the ones they might afford, the ones with a class-two license and a supervising master, were already hired. Even Lanton had a new job, with someone who should have known better. "What's the catch?"
"I think it's Ashe," Dai said.
Cassilde froze just for an instant, then very deliberately poured them each a cup of tea. Summerlad Ashe had been their first scholar, partner and lover and friend, brilliant and unscrupulous as you had to be in salvage. But when the Trouble broke, he’d chosen the richer side, Core over Edge, and put those same talents to use against them. She’d be damned if she trusted him again.
"He wouldn't dare," she said firmly, as though she could make it true.
You can also read more about it (and see a bigger version) at Athena Andreadis's blog.
ETA: And as soon as I posted this, Athena posted a link to artist Eleni Tsami's post on the making of the cover, which includes the full wrap-around version. Utterly spectacular!
And, to further celebrate, a snippet from my story in the collection, "Finders."
"Bad day?" Dai asked, carefully casual, and began unlatching the tins. The waiter-boy would come along after midnight and retrieve them from outside the door.
"So-so. Though I put together fresh BLUE for the ventral core, so that's a win." Cassilde set the tea to steep. "And you?"
Dai avoided her eyes. "All right. The snow's supposed to end tonight, you'll be clear in the morning."
"To do what?" She controlled the urge to clash the enameled iron cups that matched the kettle, set them gently on the counter instead. "We're not credentialed to bid on any of the jobs at hand."
And if they couldn't bid, there would be no money, and they were already at the end of their savings.... It was not something she needed to say, but Dai grimaced as though he'd heard them.
"I shouldn't have fired Lanton," he said. "I know that. But he was impossible."
"And he was skimming from the take," Cassilde said. "And you're right, that would have gotten us in trouble sooner or later. But we should have had the replacement in line first."
Dai dipped his head. He was a big man, taller than she by more than the breadth of his hand, and she was by no means small. A dangerous man, one might have said, looking at him, with his knotted muscles earned in high salvage, hauling significant mass in varying gravity, sandy hair cropped short, the evening's stubble coming in pale on his lantern jaw. She'd taken his measure long ago.
"We've had an inquiry," he said. It was something of a peace offering. "An answer to your notice."
"Oh?" She was intrigued in spite of herself. With new permits up for bid, on a new section of an Ancestor's wrecked sky palace, lost in long orbit for at least a hundred years, scholars with a class-one license could name their price. And the ones they might afford, the ones with a class-two license and a supervising master, were already hired. Even Lanton had a new job, with someone who should have known better. "What's the catch?"
"I think it's Ashe," Dai said.
Cassilde froze just for an instant, then very deliberately poured them each a cup of tea. Summerlad Ashe had been their first scholar, partner and lover and friend, brilliant and unscrupulous as you had to be in salvage. But when the Trouble broke, he’d chosen the richer side, Core over Edge, and put those same talents to use against them. She’d be damned if she trusted him again.
"He wouldn't dare," she said firmly, as though she could make it true.