To my mother, who taught me to love books and opened the door to Narnia, Pern, and Middle Earth.
And to my father, who taught me that if I was going to do something, I should take my time and do it right.
To . . .
. . . all the readers of my early drafts. You are legion, too many to name, but not too many to love. I kept writing because of your encouragement. I kept improving because of your criticism. If not for you, I would not have won . . .
. . . the Writers of the Future contest. If not for their workshop, I would never have met my wonderful anthology-mates from volume 18 or . . .
. . . Kevin J. Anderson. If not for his advice, I would never have ended up with . . .
. . . Matt Bialer, the best of agents. If not for his guidance, I would never have sold the book to . . .
. . . Betsy Wolheim, beloved editor and president of DAW. If not for her, you would not be holding this book. A similar book, perhaps, but this book would not exist.
And, lastly, to Mr. Bohage, my high school history teacher. In 1989 I told him I’d mention him in my first novel. I keep my promises.