The Ruin of Angels (Craft Sequence, #6)

by Max Gladstone

That was the joy of words: you could control them when all else failed.

She closed her many eyes, and replayed in her mind, as her therapist had suggested, a comforting series of human screams, starting with a ten on the pain scale, counting down. That relaxed her enough for work.

her brand new “fits-anywhere!” folding sacrificial vessel.

The city has a good startup community—nightmare telegraphics mostly, dreamshaping and fearcraft, high-energy Craftwork. Nightmare Quarterly called it “thriving.”