The Unfinished Song - Book 6: Blood (53 page)

Raptor Rider – a Tavaedi caste female in the Orange Labyrinth tribe

Ram’s Right – the right to fight on behalf of one’s self or one’s kin to win free of sacrifice or slavery

The Singing Bow – a magic bow, originally crafted by Gwidan

chuckle pecker – slang for a clown or performing fool

The Plaza of Eagles – the main courtyard for ceremonies and Tavaedi dances in Cliffedge, the Orange Canyon tribehold

Boma – a tall pole or ladder with a platform on top for a lookout; able to hold one or two men

Pit of Zithra-Lume – the dark cavern where the corpse of Zithra-Lume, the Spider Queen, was cast down after she was destroyed

clanhold – the main settlement of a clan, which usually has 50-250 people; each tribe is composed of many hundreds of clans

tribehold – the main settlement of a tribe, which range in size from a few thousand to many thousands. (Note: the largest settlement in all of Faearth is the Rainbow Labyrinth tribehold, which, at its height, was home to 14,000 denizens.)

Olani – male Tavaedies who dress in female attire; in some tribes, they are respected, in others, fill a role as clowns

Graceling

Kristin Cashore

In a world where selected people are given a Grace, a special talent that can be anything from dancing to swimming, Katsa’s Grace is killing. As the king’s niece, Katsa must learn to decipher the true nature of her Grace…and how to put it to good use.

Kristin Cashore grew up in the northeast Pennsylvania countryside as the second of four daughters. She received a bachelor’s degree from Williams College and a master’s from the Study of Children’s Literature at Simmons College, and she has worked as a dog runner, a packer in a candy factory, an editorial assistant, a legal assistant, and a freelance writer. She has lived many places (including Sydney, New York City, Boston, London, Austin, and Jacksonville, Florida), and she currently lives in the Boston area.

She caught the fall of every leaf in the garden, the rustle of every branch. And so she was astonished when a man stepped out of the darkness and grabbed her from behind. He wrapped his arm around her chest and held a knife to her throat. He started to speak, but in an instant she had deadened his arm, wrenched the knife from his hand, and thrown the blade to the ground. She flung him forward, over her shoulders.

He landed on his feet.

Her mind raced. He was Graced, a fighter. That much was clear. And unless he had no feeling in the hand that had raked her chest, he knew she was a woman.

He turned to face her. They eyed each other, warily, each no more than a shadow of the other. He spoke.

“I’ve heard a lady with this particular Grace.” His voice was gravelly and deep. There was lilt to his words; it was not an accent she knew. She must learn who he was, so that she could know what to do with him.

“I can’t think what that lady would be doing so far from home, running around the courtyard of King Murgon at midnight,” he said. He shifted slightly, placed himself between her and wall. He was taller than she was, and smooth in his movements, like a cat. Deceptively calm, ready to spring. A torch on the path nearby caught the glimmer of a small gold hoops in his ears. And his face was unbearded, like a Lienid.

She shifted and swayed, her body ready, like his. She didn’t have much time to decide. He knew who was she was. But if he was a Lienid, she didn’t want to kill him.

“Don’t you have anything, Lady? Surely you don’t think I’ll let you pass without an explanation?” There was something playful in his voice. She watched him, quietly. He stretched his arms in one fluid motion, and her eyes unraveled the bands of gold that gleamed on his fingers.

“You’re a Lienid,” she said.

“You have good eyesight,” he said.

“Not good enough to see the color of your eyes.”

He laughed. “I think I know the color of yours.”

Common sense told her to kill him. “You’re one to speak of being far from home,” she said. “What’s a Lienid doing in the court of King Murgon?”

“I’ll tell you my reasons if you’ll tell me yours.”

“I’ll tell you nothing, and you must let me pass.”

“Must I?”

“If you don’t, I’ll have to force you.”

“Do you think you can?”

She faked to her right, and he swung away, easily. She did it again, faster. Again, he escaped her easily. He was very good. But she was Katsa.

“I know I can,” she said.

“Ah.” His voice was amused. “But it might take you hours.”

Why was he playing with her? Why wasn’t he raising the alarm? Perhaps he was a criminal himself, a Graceling criminal. And if so, did that make him an ally or an enemy? Wouldn’t a Lienid approve of her rescue of the Lienid prisoner? Yes—unless he was a traitor. Or unless this Lienid didn’t even know the contents of Murgon’s dungeons—Murgon had kept the secret well.

The Council would tell her to kill him. The Council would tell her she put them at risk if she left a man alive who knew her identity. But he was unlike any thug she’d ever encountered. He didn’t feel brutish or stupid or threatening.

She couldn’t kill one Lienid while rescuing another.

She was a fool and she could probably regret it, but she wouldn’t do it.

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.

Shadowfell

Juliet Marillier

Sixteen-year-old Neryn is alone in the land of Alban, where the oppressive king has ordered anyone with magical strengths captured and brought before him. Eager to hide her own canny skill--a uniquely powerful ability to communicate with the fairy-like Good Folk--Neryn sets out for the legendary Shadowfell, a home and training ground for a secret rebel group determined to overthrow the evil King Keldec.

During her dangerous journey, she receives aid from the Good Folk, who tell her she must pass a series of tests in order to recognize her full potential. She also finds help from a handsome young man, Flint, who rescues her from certain death--but whose motives in doing so remain unclear. Neryn struggles to trust her only allies. They both hint that she alone may be the key to Alban's release from Keldec's rule. Homeless, unsure of who to trust, and trapped in an empire determined to crush her, Neryn must make it to Shadowfell not only to save herself, but to save Alban.

Juliet Marllier
is the author of several highly popular fantasy novels for adults, including the Sevenwaters Trilogy and the Bridei Chronicles. She is also the author of the teen novels Wildwood Dancing and Cybele's Secret.

There was a silence. The quality of it set every part of me on edge. I would have to stop him. He was drunk and in this mood he might do anything at all. I would have to elbow my way through the crowd of men and get him out of here.

Before I could move, one of the men said, “You’ve got nothing left to wager, fool. Your purse is empty.”

Gods, had he already gambled away every coin we had while I was oblivious?

“Father,” I began, my voice cracked and tentative.

“I need no stake,” Father rumbled, half rising. His fists were clenched; his face was flushed. How much ale had they given him? “I’ll win. I can beat anyone. I’ll take whatever you put up.”

“No stake, no play! That’s the rule!”

“If you can’t put up a price, you’re out of the game, fellow!”

“And not before time,” someone muttered.

I  made myself push forward through the crowd. “Father, it’s time to go,” I said, tugging at his arm. My voice was lost in the general hubbub.

“Li’l surprise for you,” Father said, getting unsteadily to his feet and draping a heavy arm around my shoulders. “See? I have got a stake—my girl here. What’ll you wager against her? No paltry coppers, mind. It’s silver pieces or nothing.”

My heart faltered. I stood rigid, unable to move, unable to speak. But it was for real, for I saw the eyes of the men opposite Father widen with shock.

“Steady on, fellow,” someone muttered. “You don’t mean that.”

“Speak up!” Father shouted, gripping me harder. “Who’ll take me on? I’ll beat every last one of you!”

My body was a cold stone. “Father,” I whispered, “No.” But he did not hear me. His mind was on the silver he would win, silver that would buy him ale for a whole turning of the moon, a purse that would restore his pride.

Muttering had broken out all around the circle. I was the object of every eye once more. I could see men undressing me in their minds, but nobody spoke. I snatched a panicky breath, praying that even the basest of them would be above accepting such an appalling proposition.

Fowler stepped forward, clearing his throat. “I can’t allow— ” he began just as a red-faced man at the back reached into his pouch and brought out something that glinted in the lantern light. Silver coins. I swallowed bile; my gut twisted in terror. He was going to play.

A black-clad arm reached past him. With a dull knocking sound, three silver pieces fell from a longer-fingered hand onto the table. “I will play you,” said the man in the hooded cloak, turning my heart to ice.

“No,” I managed. “No, Father, please don’t do this—”

“Hold your tongue, Neryn!” said Father, and sat down again, releasing me.

I gazed across the table at the challenger, but the hood concealed his face so well I could not even see his eyes.

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The Lost Prince

Julie Kagawa

Don't look at Them. Never let Them know you can see Them
.

That is Ethan Chase's unbreakable rule. Until the fey he avoids at all costs—including his reputation—begin to disappear, and Ethan is attacked. Now he must change the rules to protect his family. To save a girl he never thought he'd dare to fall for.

Ethan thought he had protected himself from his older sister's world—the land of Faery. His previous time in the Iron Realm left him with nothing but fear and disgust for the world Meghan Chase has made her home, a land of myth and talking cats, of magic and seductive enemies. But when destiny comes for Ethan, there is no escape from a danger long, long forgotten.

Born in Sacramento, CA, Julie Kagawa moved to Hawaii at the age of nine. There she learned many things; how to bodyboard, that teachers scream when you put centipedes in their desks, and that writing stories in math class is a great way to kill time. Her teachers were glad to see her graduate.

Julie now lives is Louisville, KY with her husband and furkids. She is the international and NYT bestselling author of The Iron Fey series. Visit her at juliekagawa.com.

Somewhere out there, I have a sister. A half sister I haven't seen in years, and not because she's busy or married or across the ocean in some other country.

No, it's because she's a queen. A faery queen, one of Them, and she can't ever come home.

Tell me
that's
not messed up.

Of course, I can't ever tell anyone. To normal humans, the fey world is hidden—glamoured and invisible. Most people wouldn't see a goblin if it sauntered up and bit them on the nose. There are very few mortals cursed with the Sight, who can see faeries lurking in dark corners and under beds. Who know that the creepy feeling of being watched isn't just their imagination, and that the noises in the cellar or the attic aren't really the house settling.

Lucky me. I happen to be one of them.

My parents worry, of course, Mom especially. People already think I'm weird, dangerous, maybe a little crazy. Seeing faeries everywhere will do that to you.

Because if the fey
know
you can see them, they tend to make your life a living hell. Last year, I was kicked out of school for setting fire to the library. What could I tell them? I was innocent because I was trying to escape a redcap motley that followed me in from the street? And that wasn't the first time the fey had gotten me into trouble. I was the "bad kid," the one the teachers spoke about in hushed voices, the quiet, dangerous kid whom everyone expected would end up on the evening news for some awful, shocking crime. Sometimes, it was infuriating. I didn't really care what they thought of me, but it was hard on Mom, so I tried to be good, futile as it was.

This semester, I'd be going to a new school, a new location. A place I could "start clean," but it wouldn't matter. As long as I could see the fey, they would never leave me alone. All I could do was protect myself and my family, and hope I wouldn't end up hurting anyone else.

Mom was at the kitchen table when I came out, waiting for me. Dad wasn't around. He worked the graveyard shift at UPS and often slept till the middle of the afternoon. Usually, I'd see him only at dinner and on weekends. That's not to say he was happily oblivious when it came to my life; Mom might know me better, but Dad had no problem doling out punishments if he thought I was slacking, or if Mom complained. I'd gotten one D in science two years ago, and it was the last bad grade I'd ever received.