The Nethergrim: When magic sleeps, darkness awakens - Softcover

Buch 1 von 3: The Nethergrim

Jobin, Matthew

 
9780142422687: The Nethergrim: When magic sleeps, darkness awakens
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0142422681 ISBN 13: 9780142422687
Verlag: Puffin Books, 2015

Inhaltsangabe

The Next Great Fantasy Epic is here! For fans of Ranger's Apprentice and the Chronicles of Narnia.

Everyone in Moorvale believes the legend: The brave knight Tristan and the famed wizard Vithric, in an epic battle decades ago, had defeated the evil Nethergrim and his minions. To this day, songs are sung and festivals held in the heroes' honor. Yet now something dark has crept over the village. First animals disappear, their only remains a pile of bones licked clean. Then something worse: children disappear. The whispers begin quietly yet soon turn into a shout: The Nethergrim has returned! Edmund’s brother is one of the missing, and Edmund knows he must do something to save his life. But what? Though a student of magic, he struggles to cast even the simplest spell. Still, he and his friends swallow their fear and set out to battle an ancient evil whose powers none of them can imagine. They will need to come together--and work apart--in ways that will test every ounce of resolve.

Praise for THE NETHERGRIM

“This series starter is reminiscent of epic fantasy series such as C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia or J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. The characters are strongly drawn and . . . [t]here is a compelling blend of magic, romance, looming evil, and noble sacrifice.--VOYA

“The Nethergrim reminded me of a cross between The Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. . . I would really like to see this one on the big screen.” –Brodart’s Library Services

"Entertainingly told with many unique features, The Nethergrim reads like a classic.” –Recommended by Richard C., Powells.com [Staff Pick at Powell’s Books]

“I’d go ahead and say everything about this book screams BLOCKBUSTER FILM.”—The Social Potato Reviews

"Riveting. Perfect for imaginative middle-grade readers craving a hearty magical adventure."--Booklist

"Fantasy fans will find much to enjoy in this elegant gem of a novel."--BCCB

"First in a planned trilogy, this is a solid debut for anthropologist Jobin, who steers clear of genre cliches while offering up a refreshingly metaphysical take on magic, a believably dark setting filled with unusual threats, and a seductive and manipulative villain."--Publishers Weekly

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Matthew Jobin spent 25 years developing the Nethergrim's world--its story, present and past; its landscapes; its language. He was originally inspired as a boy exploring the forest surrounding his home in Canada, and has been intent on telling the tale ever since.

Matthew, who holds a Ph. D. in anthropology from Stanford University, now lectures at Santa Clara University and lives with his wife in the San Francisco Bay Area.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

PrologueThe best horse I ever knew was a bay stallion with a white star on his face. His name was Juniper—a strange name for a steed of war, but that’s what he was called when he was born, and his rider never changed it. The rider was the fourth son of the lord of a little place far away south. This boy had heard every tale of every grand old hero ever told, and when each of them was finished, he asked to hear it again, long after the other boys had started sneering at them. His father gave him Juniper on his sixteenth birthday because he had no land left to give, and so this boy—his name was Tristan—thanked his father for the horse and the armor and the sword he was given, and rode away from home. He had too many brothers for anyone to miss him much.Tristan and Juniper wandered the roads for many months, looking for good deeds that needed doing, and after a while they found some—lonely things, quiet things in little hamlets and manors at the edges of the land. Tristan’s shield was often dented and often mended. His sword grew notched, but he kept it carefully keen. Juniper grew as fearless as any horse ever born, and the rumor of their coming sent awful things scurrying into their holes.But the world is not a story, or if it is, the plot is very strange. The people Tristan helped were mostly poor, and though they were grateful when he killed a quiggan or caught an outlaw, it was hard to live on what they gave in thanks. He and Juniper grew both tough and wild, and in safer places where there were no such troubles, he found that people had no use for him. After a while he found himself dreaming of a different life, with warm fires, good food and cheerful friends.One day, as Tristan traveled through a land south and west of us near a great curve in the mountains, he was met on the road by a lord and his household knights, well-fed men in polished mail astride great horses of war. They commanded that Tristan stop, for they had heard stories of this youth who roved the marches, doing the bravest of deeds for the least of men. The lord bade Tristan attend him at court, where Tristan spoke of his adventures with the grace of perfect truth. The court sat up listening long into the night, and when Tristan was finished, the lord raised his cup and welcomed him as a knight of his household. Tristan was overcome with joy, and swore a sacred oath to serve the lord all his days.All seemed well at last. Tristan was a gallant young knight in service to a mighty lord, riding at the head of his vanguard in gleaming armor. As the months went by, though, Tristan began to discover something he did not like. He would hear stories of trouble out on the borderlands, just as before: boggans in the millponds, thieves and cutthroats on the roads—the sort of things he would always go and try to fix when he was on his own. But now he was an oathbound knight, and his lord would never allow him to go help anyone. Tristan’s lord wanted very badly to have more land, even though he already had so much that you could not ride across it all in a week. He plotted and schemed for months, drawing up his plans in secret and buying allies with coffers full of gold. Other lords came and went from the castle—some fearful, some angry, and some with terrible hungry smiles.Soon enough, war came, a war that was happening only because Tristan’s lord wished to rule more of the world. Tristan had sworn an oath, and that meant he would not leave no matter how unhappy he became, for he had been raised to keep his word, especially when those words were sacred oaths. His lord led an attack through a nearby land, fighting all the way. Instead of monsters, Tristan found himself in the thick of battles against other men with whom he had no quarrel. He tried to be merciful whenever he could, but people died on his sword—perfectly decent people who did not deserve it. Sometimes he would lie awake at night, and a little voice in him would ask if it would be better if it was he who died.At last they laid siege to one of their enemy’s great castles. Tristan’s lord thought he could win if he struck fast and hard, so on a hot night in summer some of the men were ordered to throw ladders up the sides of the walls and try to take the castle by storm. They scaled the gatehouse and let down the drawbridge under a rain of arrows. Thinking victory was his for the taking, Tristan’s lord charged in, leading Tristan and the other knights far ahead of the foot soldiers. He made an awful mistake, for the enemy within the castle was much stronger than he had guessed. They sprang in a mass from every tower, trapping the knights in the courtyard below. Tristan tried to protect his lord, throwing himself in front of every enemy who came near, but it was no use. An arrow struck the lord in the neck and he fell off his horse, dead.The attack had failed. The courtyard was strewn with the dead and the dying. Tristan lowered his sword and stared about him like a man in a dream, and it was only Juniper, weaving this way and that through the fray, who saved both himself and his rider. Tristan let his sword fall with a clatter to the stones, and then his shield. He grasped the reins and rode from that courtyard through a hail of arrows, past his own army and into the night. He was never seen in that country again.Seasons turned in their weary round. Tristan and Juniper became lonely, wandering creatures again, but this time Tristan was afraid and ashamed, and did not try to be a hero. Juniper’s saddle was sold for food, and so was Tristan’s ring that was given him by his mother, and still they had hardly enough to eat. For many months they roamed, a ragged young man with his big shaggy horse, until they came into the north in the middle of a winter just like this one.In that winter, in a place not far from here, there was a little village in terrible trouble. It stood at the very edge of the kingdom, far out and alone on a road so old that no one knew who had built it. Tristan rode Juniper into the village just as it was getting dark. They crept along from house to house, finding no one anywhere, until they came to a crossroad where stood a tiny inn. No sound came from within, but firelight flickered through the shuttered windows. Tristan threw a blanket over Juniper and led him to the empty stables in the back, then opened the inn’s front door.“There’s a draft,” spoke a voice. Its owner was the only person inside. He sat with his feet propped up before the fire and the cowl of his fine dark cloak over his head. He seemed—of all things on such a night—to be reading something.“Why are you not at the hall with the others?” The cloaked figure spoke without turning.“Please.” Tristan stepped in and shut the door. “I am just a traveler. I do not know where I am supposed to be. It is very cold outside.”The other man turned to look at him. “You, friend, must be the most luckless traveler in all the world.”Tristan came closer to the light and warmth of the fire. He could see that the other man took him for a beggar or a runaway slave. He certainly looked it; his tattered old tunic had been made for a much shorter man, and he had sold his shoes months before. His feet were bound with rags, and in his long wandering grief, his beard had grown tangled and his eyes sunken.The other man bent to throw a log on the fire. “The innkeeper is at the hall with the rest. Your best chance for survival is with them.”Tristan held out his hands to the flames. “What is happening here?”The other man looked up at Tristan with an expression both searching and amused. “Tell me, traveler, where were you going?”“I do not know. I was following the road.”“You could not follow it much farther. Past here there once stood...

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Verlag
Puffin Books
Erscheinungsdatum
2015
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0142422681
ISBN 13 
9780142422687
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
368
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
NOSOLI72
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SCLIENT@chapitre.com

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Softcover