Excerpt from Katabasis by R. F. Kuang, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Fine," she said. "I hope you brought your own chalk."

"Two new packs of Shropley's," he said happily.

Yes, she knew he preferred Shropley's. Evidence of bad character. At least she wouldn't have to share.

She arranged her rucksack next to her feet, checking that none of the straps lay outside the pentagram. "Then all that's left is the incantation. Are you ready?"

"Hold on," said Peter. "You do know the price?"

Of course Alice knew. This was why scholars rarely ever went to Hell. It wasn't that getting there was so very hard. You only had to dig up all the right proofs and master them. It was that a trip down below rarely justified the price.

"Half my remaining lifespan," she said. Entering Hell meant crashing through borders between worlds, and this demanded a kind of organic energy that mere chalk could not contain. "Thirty years or so, gone. I know."

But she had hardly struggled with the choice. Would she rather graduate, produce brilliant research, and go out in a blaze of glory? Or would she rather live out her natural lifespan, gray haired and drooling, fading into irrelevance, consumed by regret? Had not Achilles chosen to die in battle? She had met professors emeriti at department receptions, those poor aphasic props, and she did not think old age an attractive prospect. She knew this choice would horrify anyone outside the academy. But no one outside the academy could possibly understand. She would sacrifice her firstborn for a professorial post. She would sever a limb. She would give anything, so long as she still had her mind, so long as she could still think.

"I want to be a magician," she said. "It's all I've ever wanted."

"I know," said Peter. "Me too. And I—I need to do this. I must."

A taut silence. Alice considered asking, but she knew Peter would not tell her. Peter, when it came to the personal, was a stone wall. How easily he vanished behind a placid smile.

"That's settled, then." Peter cleared his throat. "So maybe I'll do the Latin, and you'll do the Greek and Chinese." He peered down at a segment near his right toe. "Say, why isn't this in Sanskrit?"

"I'm not comfortable with Sanskrit," Alice said, peeved. This was just like Peter. Condescending, even when ostensibly just asking for clarification. "I've done all the Buddhist sutra references in Classical Chinese instead."

"Oh." Peter hummed. "Well, that probably works. If you're sure."

She rolled her eyes. "In three, on go."

"Right on."

She counted down. "Go."

And they began their chant.

Excerpted from Katabasis by R. F. Kuang. Copyright © 2025 by R. F. Kuang. Excerpted by permission of Harper Voyager. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.