Even Though I Knew the End

By C.L. Polk

A USA Today Bestseller!

Winner of the Nebula Award!

Finalist for the Hugo Award!

Finalist for the World Fantasy Award!

A New York Times Best Romance of 2022!

C. L. Polk turns their considerable powers to a fantastical noir with Even Though I Knew the End.

“Eerie, sharp, and fiercely bittersweet.” —The New York Times

A magical detective dives into the affairs of Chicago's divine monsters to secure a future with the love of her life. This sapphic period piece will dazzle anyone looking for mystery, intrigue, romance, magic, or all of the above.

An exiled augur who sold her soul to save her brother's life is offered one last job before serving an eternity in hell. When she turns it down, her client sweetens the pot by offering up the one payment she can't resist—the chance to have a future where she grows old with the woman she loves.

To succeed, she is given three days to track down the White City Vampire, Chicago's most notorious serial killer. If she fails, only hell and heartbreak await.

At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Nov 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9781250849465

C.L. Polk

C. L. Polk wrote the Hugo-nominated Kingston Cycle, including the World Fantasy Award-winning Witchmark. They are also the author of the CBC Canada Reads finalist The Midnight Bargain and the Nebula-winning, USA Today bestseller Even Though I Knew The End. Before writing fantasy novels, they worked as a film extra, a costermonger, and also identified lepidoptera by eye. Mx. Polk lives in Calgary, on the territories of the Blackfoot Confederacy, the Tsuut’ina, the Îyâxe Nakoda Nations, and the Métis Nation (Region 3).

Book preview

ACT I

1

MARLOWE HAD OFFERED me fifty dollars to stand out here in the freezing Chicago cold and do an augury, and like a damn greedy fool, I’d said yes. I’d computed the ideal time for the operation with Marlowe still on the telephone, flipping between my calculations on scratch paper and an ephemeris. I had to shake a leg to make it to the crime scene during the moon’s Chaldean hour, the best window for divination with the dead. Fifty dollars is a comfortable sum, and I had foolishly believed I could earn it in time to enjoy my last weekend with Edith.

Naturally, everything was going wrong.

It was Luna’s fault. Moonlight sparkled off freshly smashed lightbulbs. It glittered on the wet asphalt underfoot, casting my shadow over the cleanest patch of back alley you ever saw behind a butcher shop. I held up the plumb of a pendulum and tried again.

Spirit of this departed woman, speak with me.

The plumb did nothing.

That wasn’t right. Kelly McIntyre’s spirit should still be linked to her deathplace. A mediocre spiritualist can talk to the dead for three days, no matter where they end up, and I was a little better than that. She ought to be batting that silver weight around like a kitten, falling over herself to tell me what happened to her. But the pendulum hung straight down, unnaturally still, as if no one had died in this alley.

Complications. I didn’t need complications. I didn’t have time for them.

My camera hung around my neck, the bellowed lens stopped at its widest, the shutter tension open and slow. Marlowe would have to settle for scene photos, if it ever got dark enough to take them.

I tilted my head back. Luna flirted around on the edge of a cloud but didn’t quite slip coyly behind it. She looked down at me in the alley, not caring that I was freezing to death.

Come on, little lady, I muttered at the sky. Give a girl a break, would you?

I shouldn’t even be out here, but Marlowe not only jumped to more than double my usual fee, she promised that I would find it interesting. So far, I hadn’t seen anything to merit Marlowe’s opinion. More importantly, I had a date in two hours, and I couldn’t skulk around this alley much longer. I dropped the pendulum in my breast pocket and stuffed my numbing hands under the armscyes of my coat.

I looked up at the moon again. I mean it, lady. Scram.

And for a wonder, she did. The silver light dimmed as Luna drifted behind that cloud she’d been flirting with for the last eighteen minutes. Time to step on the juice and get out of here.

Off came my gloves. I cut the little finger of my left hand, hissing as blood welled up. I held out my hand and spoke: Blood, join with blood and reveal it.

Three drops fell to the cracked asphalt between my feet, landing on the sigil I’d painted there with a solution of radium paint and the spores of a Japanese phosphorescent mushroom picked on a moonless night.

The spell worked by pairing the principles of contagion and sympathy. My blood activated the luminescent properties of the radium and the living glow of the fungus, connecting it to the blood that had been spilled—

You know what? Let’s skip the explanation. The ground beneath my feet glowed, spreading from the tiny droplets I had spilled to fill the alley in obscene greenish detail, exactly the color of the hands on a glow-in-the-dark clock, or a—yeah, a fairy mushroom. Blood doesn’t un-spill easily. It marks the places it touches. The cops scrubbed really hard, but you can’t wash it all away.

I hadn’t had a chance to test this spell, but it’s not bad work for a gal who wasn’t supposed to know anything more dangerous than the computation of Chaldean hours and a smattering of astrology.

The flare of pride at my successful spell design dampened as I saw what the enchantment revealed. The crime scene was straight out of a nightmare. Blood painted the walls—not in obscene, frenzied splashes but in the cruel and deliberate lines of magical sigils. They covered the north and south walls, sprawling onto the asphalt to the east and west, and I comprehended some. But the rest?

They weren’t Greek to me; I could read that. These marks reminded me of astrological glyphs, of hermetic seals, but I could read those, too. They looked familiar. But I didn’t know them, and I couldn’t put my finger on where I had seen them before.

Enough standing around with my jaw unhinged. I had a system for photographing ritual scenes, and I followed it. I snapped a photo, slid the shield over the exposure, and stuck the cartridge in my pocket. North, east, south, west. I captured the sigils and markings in the all-seeing eye of my Graflex. I’d inherited it from my old boss, Clyde, and he’d have something to say about letting the f-stop out all the way and not using a tripod, but I think he would have been secretly impressed with the spell that made it possible.

As I photographed a magic square filled with more of those strange glyphs, the rock in my gut got heavier and heavier. The blood, which I assumed had belonged to Kelly McIntyre, painted the ground and the walls in the complex geometry of a ritual circle unlike anything I’d ever learned as a mystic. This was deep trouble—worse than a haunting, worse than a hex. This was high ritual magic put to the most gruesome purpose I had ever seen.

Marlowe had been right after all. This was one hell of a job, and I didn’t have time to take it past this consultation. I wished I could have, even though the whole thing screamed peril! Danger! Mortal threat! Awful as it was, it woke my sense of curiosity right up.

Another magazine slid into my camera, and I crouched to get the best frame on the markings along the north wall.

Wait.

Crouching. I backed up and counted bricks, holding my arm up to reckon eyeline.

Huh.

The White City Vampire could have been the Half-Pint Vampire. The markings put him at about five foot three. How did a pipsqueak that size haul an amazon like Nightingale McIntyre this deep into the alley? I wondered at the state of the songbird’s nails. Had she fought back, or was she dead weight? Could I grease somebody at the morgue to find out?

I was falling into the case, and I couldn’t do that. All I had time for was getting these pictures. I crouched again, shooting a square of the unknown alphabet on the south wall. The shutter clicked open, and the glow on the walls intensified an instant before it all went dark—or should I say, bright.

Dammit.

Luna was back from her tryst with cloud cover, shining on me with all her curiosity.

I had another vial of luminous solution. It was enough for another spell, but I would have to wait … I looked up at the sky and reckoned. At least another half hour. That would tip me into the hour of Saturn, and that was inauspicious.

Six shots would have to be enough—the seventh was probably ruined. I reloaded the camera with fresh film, and my pockets bulged with 4x5 plates. The glow from the spell was gone, but I gazed through the viewfinder all the same. Something inside me wanted one more shot, and a mystic doesn’t ignore her intuition.

Broken glass crunched under a boot sole. A new shadow fell over my path, shaped like square shoulders and a fedora.

What’s your business here? a man demanded, and then he made a disbelieving noise. Christ, it’s a dame.

Damn it. I’d been pinched, and it was my own fault. I had cast no wards at all. I wasn’t great with the invisibility glamour. I hadn’t even set up a trip line. I had been sloppy, and I deserved to get caught.

Two men had come around the corner—one tall and broad across the shoulder, the other shorter, standing like a boxer. But were they cops or robbers?

Intuition still had its lips to my ear. I depressed the shutter button with the lens pointed in their direction before I grabbed air and gave a grin. The scene’s clean, but a second look never hurt—Aw, hell.

The flash of an eight-pointed silver star on the shorter man’s lapel told me who I was dealing with, and I’d be twice damned if I ever showed my belly to the likes of them. I put my hands down. Evening, gentlemen. Nice night.

The shorter man took the lead, gun in hand. But then I got a look at the bigger one, and even with his figure shrouded in shadow, my heart gave a little leap, because I knew him. The light shifted to shine on half his face and I forgot how to breathe. His chin, his mouth … even ten years older and a full foot taller, I knew.

Ted? I took a step forward. Teddy?

Helen. You shouldn’t be here.

Helen Brandt? The shorter one’s voice rang with delighted scandal. "You’re still

Reviews for Even Though I Knew the End

[quondame · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Ellen does not want to investigate a series of gruesome murders involving ritual magic, but her employer has inducements that make her overcome her reluctance. As she continues to investigate the involvement of her lover Edith and her brother Ted, raise the stakes and reveal perilous truths.

[cheryl_in_cc_nv · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Ok, very concise, lots packed in. Mostly stuff I don't particularly generally like reading, but, yeah, it was short so I finished. However, if you are into noir urban fantasy based on Christian mythology with queer romance, you'll likely love it.

[kalliegrace · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Such a great atmospheric supernatural noir novella!

[liscarey · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This story was definitely not for me.

I had bad feelings just reading the title. It telegraphs that there's something not positive about the ending, right? And the publisher's blurb for it cheerily states that the protagonist, Helen, sold her soul to save her brother's life. This is accurate.

As a direct result, she and her brother are no longer on good terms, or even in contact. She also got kicked out of the magical order they belonged to because, of course, damned soul.

Then years later, her time is almost up, and she gets pulled into the investigation of Chicago's White City Vampire, a serial killer who is apparently a demon. She doesn't want to be involved; she has only three days left and wants to spend them with her girlfriend, Edith. Her client offers irresistible bait, though--the chance to win her soul back, and have a lifetime with Edith.

It turns out Edith has her own secret, and also the White City Vampire isn't a demon, although they are something closely related.

Helen, Edith, and Edith's secret start investigating the killings, the victims, and seeming bystanders who had mental breakdowns shortly after each killing. It's what happens to those bystanders that makes the real identity of the killer even more appalling.

There's so much I want to say about what happens here and why I dislike the story. Unfortunately, I can't say what I want without spoilers, and it probably doesn't matter because probably most readers, or at least enough readers for this story to have the audience that made it a Hugo Finalist, either wouldn't agree with me, or wouldn't care.

It is a very well-written story. It's a good mystery, and a good romance, despite the thing that spoils the enjoyment of it for me. It doesn't, however, have the substance and depth that made me consider "Rabbit Test" a serious candidate for my first place vote in the short story category, despite also being dark and depressing in a way that made it hard for me to read. This story is supposed to be just a fun story, and maybe it is for many, but not for me.

I received this story as part of the 2023 Hugo Voters Packet.

[ladycato · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I read this novella as part of the Nebula finalist packet. I've loved Polk's other works and had high anticipation as I started this one, and it didn't disappoint. Really, it was just my thing--an action-packed 1930s-drenched tale about love, angels and demons, and complex, beautiful characters. A powerful, profound work.

[miserableflower · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

It’s a super short story…. But it’s also because it cut out the middle with all the shit that usually just drags on and on and on…. I would have liked a little more world building and explanation on the non human aspects but I still enjoyed this more than I thought I would. I wouldn’t mind seeing all these characters in a longer series

[billpilgrim_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I got a copy of Even Though I Knew The End, by C.L. Polk from the library after seeing that it just won the Nebula Award for Best Novella this year, knowing nothing else about it. The Nebula is for SF and Fantasy works, and this one falls into the fantasy column. I don't read much fantasy but I'm open to reading anything if it's well done. I thought this one was very good.

The fantasy elements are that it has angels and demons and spells. The plot is a noir-ish detective/mystery about a series of garish murders being committed by some supernatural force. The main character is trying to find the killer. She and the other characters are interesting and have typical human problems to navigate (in addition to the fantastical ones). There's a lesbian love story that is very tender. Very atmospheric - Chicago in the late 1930's. Check it out if this sounds like something you could enjoy.

[jorgeousjotts · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

There were a couple things that kept this from being more satisfying, but it was okay, and had some creative world-building.

[lavaturtle · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is so good! The crossroads deals and secret gay relationships and women defying gender stereotypes are right up my alley. The story weaves together familiar tropes from noir and monster-hunter fiction into something original and compelling.

[anniemod · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Helen has 3 days to live - she made a deal with a devil 10 years ago and her 10 years are up. She may be a warlock and a detective but even she cannot wiggle out of that one. And she really wants to - because she finally found the love of her life, Edith, and she is not ready to give all up. So when a wealthy client called Marlowe offers her soul back, she is ready to do anything.

Choosing to set the story in the late 1920s in Chicago and to call he employer Marlowe sends a message about the tone of the story. The story mostly lives up. There is a moment towards the end when there is something that feels like a plot hole on first reading - when a character was kidnapped in the end game, it made no sense to do it in the place and time where it happened - the only reason seemed to be to ensure that everyone gets to the same place when they need to be there. Either that or Polk was emulating the noir novels of the era where bad guys do stupid things thus allowing the hero to save the day. I am still not sure what is the case but considering the rest of the tale, I suspect the latter.

The ending was unexpected but logical. And at the end I was more upset with the fact that there is no logical way to create a sequel (well, technically there may be a way) than with anything which I may have disliked in the story. It is a fascinating alternative Chicago where most things look like just in ours - but there are enough differences to keep you on your toes - and not all of them are related to magic. Plus some of the rules of the Brotherhood of the Compass (the premier organization of the magic users) made me feel even more in the 1920s.

It already got a Nebula nomination and I suspect that it may get some more nods before the year is over. It is a funny romp, mashing together fantasy and noir, with a sprinkling of mystery, history and romance.

[tuusannuuska-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I don't usually much care for stories set in the early half of the 20th century, but this one really won me over by the end!

[sheila1957 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Helen is hired by Marlowe to find Chicago's serial killer, the White City Vampire. Helen goes to the scene of the last murder to take photographs and to find any piece of the spirit of the murdered woman. She finds none but runs into the Brotherhood of the Compass, a confederation which she was kicked out of when she sold her soul to the devil. Seems like she was not given the full story by Marlowe. It looks like a territorial war between demons. Is it? Or is there something more going on?

I enjoyed this story. It is fast paced. Lots of things are going on. There is layer upon layer here. I like that Helen's girlfriend, Edith, helps her. When we find out Helen's back story, it only adds to the layers. With Edith's back story, more layers are added which made me not want to put the book down. I needed to know what was happening. Helen also lets us know what happened to patrons of the Wink, a bar frequented by Edith and she. Then she figures out what is going on. But I'm not going to ruin the story for you. Enjoy!

[capucinette-559393 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Source : I received an ARC from Tor Books .

155 pages are nothing but enough for this book! I wanted more of it!

From the first pages, we find ourselves carried away in the heat of the action where a murder has been committed and where we are looking for the culprit. It is a world of archangels, demons, angels, and gifted people. It is also a world where love comes to play an important role.

Edith is the one Helen is in love with. With her, she wants to go far away where they will not be judged, where they will lead a normal existence.

I liked the chaotic effect of the story, the fact of finding yourself in the middle of the race from the start, the fact of finding yourself in the world of these two young women but also in this dark world where dark forces exert their powers. I wondered many times if what I was reading was simply our reality. What if the world we know today was ultimately ruled by all of this? Archangels who lead battles to save humanity, protective angels always by our side, and demons who want their share of the cake while believing they are doing the right thing. This is the first time I read this kind of book and I was simply captivated by the author’s writing. The only thing that bothered me was the end, this selfish act that was done. Love is not supposed to be so selfish however strong it is! I only blame Helen, not the author.

I recommend this book! Many thanks to Tor Publicity for sending me this manuscript.

[needmoreshelves · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Nobody is doing novellas as well as tordotcom right now, and if you haven't jumped into their catalogue you should.

This is a little bit like Raymond Chandler meets the tv show Supernatural....and while that sounds like a mess, C.L. Polk makes it come together beautfully. A truly high-stakes mystery, a heartwarming romance, and a perfectly pitched bittersweet ending. Polk packs this novella with everything a reader could want. Highly recommended.

[bell7_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Helen Brandt has one last job, and then she's ready to die, leaving behind her lover, Edith, and her brother, Ted - who isn't talking to her anyway, not since she sold her soul ten years ago. But then this job of finding the ritual killer nicknamed the White City Vampire gets sweetened: she can get her soul back if she finds the perpetrator before they come for her.

Polk creates an alternate historical world just a tad different from ours believable and intricate in a very short space. It's masterful, really. And then Helen is a great narrator, worldly wise and a magic wielder who wants to be able to live her life with the people she loves. In some ways, it was like reading a Supernatural episode, but it's a story all its own.