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Kate Thompson lives on the west coast of Ireland, which provides inspiration for the Irish magic, music, and landscape in the award-winning The New Policeman and The Last of the High Kings.

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Traveling to the land of eternal youth was the only way J.J. Liddy could stop time from leaking from his world to T'ir na n'Og. But fifteen years after returning from the land of the faeries, J.J. wonders if that long-ago visit is responsible for the strange things now happening to those around him.

Why does his daughter Jenny roam barefoot through the wilds, when she should be in school? When did the mysterious white goat begin to patrol the hillside? What is the secret project that J.J.'s son Donal is attempting? And who is the ghost guarding the stone beacon at the top of the mountain—and why has Jenny befriended him?

Finding answers to these questions will take J.J. and his family on the most important and dangerous journey of their lives. If they fail, it will undo all the good that J.J. accomplished fifteen years ago. But if they succeed, they will defeat the forces that are gathering to destroy all of mankind, and finally secure the future of the last of the high kings.

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The Last of the High Kings

HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Chapter One

J.J. Liddy stood in the hall and yelled at the top of his voice, "Where's Jenny?"

The old house, which had been full of noise and activity, fell silent and still. J.J. groaned, then shouted again. "Has anybody seen Jenny?"

His wife, Aisling, came out of the sitting room. "I thought you were watching her," she said.

"Well, I was, a minute ago," said J.J. "Then I couldn't because she wasn't there."

Aisling gave a martyred sigh. Their eldest, Hazel, appeared at the top of the stairs. "She's not up here," she said.

J.J. went out into the yard. "Jenny!" he yelled, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. If she knew that he was angry, she would never come. "Jenny!"

She probably wouldn't come anyway. She rarely did. J.J. went back into the house and began searching for his walking boots. He found them underneath a pile of cased instruments that were waiting beside the door to be packed into the car, and as he was putting the boots on, Donal came down the stairs with a half-filled backpack.

"Does that mean we aren't going then?" he said. Donal was nine and was by far the easiest of all of Aisling and J.J.'s children. He seldom had much to say, and he never made a fuss about anything.

"Well, we can hardly go without her, can we?" said J.J., tugging at a bootlace.

"I don't see why not," said Hazel, who was still at the top of the stairs, leaning on the banister. "I don't see why we have to let her ruin everything all the time."

"Bold Jenny," said Aidan, arriving on the scene with a hammer. He was going through an aggressive phase, and Aisling and J.J. spent a lot of their time trying to disarm him.

"She wouldn't care anyway." Hazel went on. "She doesn't want to hang around with the rest of us; that's why she's always swanning off on her own. She probably wouldn't even notice if we weren't here when she got back. She'd probably be delighted."

"Oh, it doesn't matter," said Aisling gloomily. "We can always go in the morning."

"It does matter," said Hazel irritably. "If we go in the morning, we'll miss the party, and that's the whole point."

"I'll find her," said J.J., lacing his second boot.

"Yeah, right you will," said Hazel, stomping back to her bedroom.

J.J. went out and shut the door behind him.

"Bold Daddy!" said Aidan, raising the hammer with both hands and aiming it at one of the glass panels in the door.

Aisling snatched it out of his hand the instant before it hit the target and held it up high, out of his reach. He lunged at her and screamed, but she sidestepped and escaped into the kitchen. Silently, Donal retreated, leaving Aidan to finish his tantrum alone on the hallway floor.

As J.J. crossed the field called Molly's Place, he felt his annoyance subsiding. More than that, he found he could almost sympathize with Jenny. Although it was midwinter, the weather was mild. A gentle breeze blew a soft, misty drizzle in from the sea, and the gray hills that rose ahead of him were inviting. Why would anyone want to squeeze into a crowded car and be stuck there for three hours when she could stride off into the fresh, earth-scented wilds beyond the farm?

He spotted something in the grass and changed his course. One of Jenny's shoes. It meant he was on the right track at least. He looked up and caught a glimpse of something white on the mountainside far ahead. That big old goat again. It had been hanging around a lot lately, and it made J.J. uneasy. He suspected that it might not be quite what it appeared to be. He suspected as well that Jenny was already a long, long way ahead. She hadn't got that much of a head start, he was fairly sure, but she was capable of moving incredibly quickly once she had, as she always did, jettisoned her shoes.

J.J. looked at his watch. It was two o'clock, which meant that there were still about three hours of daylight left in which to find her. They wouldn't make it for dinner, but provided they were on the road by six, they would still arrive in plenty of time for the party. His sister, Marian, had married an accordion player from Cork, and their New Year's parties were famous in traditional music circles. They were one of the highlights of J.J.'s year, and the annual trip to Cork was just about the only time the whole family went away together. Everyone loved it and looked forward to it. Everyone, that was, except Jenny.

J.J. found the other shoe just inside the boundary wall of the farm. That was good luck. More often than not only one would turn up, and Jenny's room was littered with shoes that had lost their partners.

"Jenny!"

Beyond the farm the land became much wilder. This was the winterage that belonged to the Liddy farm, but unlike Mikey's land at the top of the mountain, it had hardly any grazing at any time of year, and to a farmer it was useless. The rocky slopes rose steeply, and in hollows and gullies there were belts of woodland, mostly ash and hazel, guarded by blackthorn and brambles. There were plenty of places where Jenny could be hidden from view. She could be almost anywhere.

"Jenny!"

There was no answer. Even the white goat had disappeared. J.J. sighed and, with a last glance back at the house, climbed over the drystone wall.

Excerpted from The Last of the High Kingsby Kate Thompson Copyright © 2008 by Kate Thompson. Excerpted by permission.
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