Minimum Wage Magic (DFZ, #1)

by Rachel Aaron

“People think all kinds of things,” the priest said with a shrug. “Including that calling a city their home is a two-way street. But the DFZ doesn’t work that way. She’s not kind. Not moral or fair. She has no compassion, no sympathy for the plight of those who live within her. That’s not her fault. She doesn’t have the freedoms we mortals enjoy. Her mind, her soul, even her body does not belong to her. She is not an individual. She is a spirit, the soul of a living city. She can only be what we’ve made her. Do you understand?” I wasn’t sure that I did. I’d always thought of the DFZ as a whimsical god who did whatever she liked without caring how it affected the ants she crushed under her moving buildings. To hear Nameless say it, though, the city sounded almost pitiable. A prisoner of other people’s expectations. “What does she care about, then?” “Opportunity,” Nameless said, giving me a smile. “From the moment it rose from the soggy ruins of Old Detroit, the DFZ has been a city where anything is possible. A city of freedom where people can be as horrible or as wonderful as they wish with no authority standing in their way. It’s a place where everyone’s an outsider, anyone can start afresh, and nothing can be taken for granted. That is the DFZ. She’s not an easy god to love, but you must understand her at least a little, because you’re both still here.”