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The True Queen (A Sorcerer to the Crown Novel, Band 2) - Softcover

Buch 2 von 2: Sorcerer to the Crown

Cho, Zen

 
9780425283417: The True Queen (A Sorcerer to the Crown Novel, Band 2)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0425283410 ISBN 13: 9780425283417
Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2019

Inhaltsangabe

One of NPR's 50 Favorite Sci-Fi and Fantasy Books of the Past Decade

In the follow-up to the "delightful" Regency fantasy novel (NPR.org) Sorcerer to the Crown, a young woman with no memories of her past finds herself embroiled in dangerous politics in England and the land of the fae.

When sisters Muna and Sakti wake up on the peaceful beach of the island of Janda Baik, they can’t remember anything, except that they are bound as only sisters can be. They have been cursed by an unknown enchanter, and slowly Sakti starts to fade away. The only hope of saving her is to go to distant Britain, where the Sorceress Royal has established an academy to train women in magic.
 
If Muna is to save her sister, she must learn to navigate high society, and trick the English magicians into believing she is a magical prodigy. As she's drawn into their intrigues, she must uncover the secrets of her past, and journey into a world with more magic than she had ever dreamed.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Zen Cho was a finalist for the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer and her short story collection Spirits Abroad was a joint winner of the William L. Crawford Fantasy Award. Her debut novel Sorcerer to the Crown won a British Fantasy Award for Best Newcomer and was a Locus Awards finalist for Best First Novel. She lives in the UK.

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Prologue
At the beginning
On the shore

The storm was shattering.

Lightning struck a tree. The trunk split with extraordinary violence, but there was an inevitability to its destruction.

So, too, with her. As she was sundered in two, there was no surprise—only pain.

She heard herself crack, the ichor in her veins boiling, but then all noise was drowned out by the roar of the storm. In days past she had summoned lightning at a thought; the rain came and went at her command; the waves churned at her whim.

But those powers had been taken from her. Now it was she who was at the mercy of the elements, tossed about like a toy. She fought to hold on to the broken parts of herself, but they slipped out of her grasp.

Insensibility seized her. She was dragged down into darkness, not grateful, and yet relieved.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was the dark bowl of the night sky.
Faint stars were scattered across its curved surface, and a full white moon rode the clouds. The air smelt sweetly of rain, but the tempest had passed.

Now a hush held the world in the palm of its hand. A low voice rumbled through her bones, monotonous and familiar. It was the voice of the waves, running up the shore and receding.

She felt as if she had awakened after a deep, revivifying sleep. She could not remember what had happened before, but that she had suffered she did not doubt. All distress had passed with the storm, however. She felt pleasantly empty—weak, wrung out, but calm.

The sand whispered against her as she rose unsteadily to her feet. Before her was the sea. Behind her, the dark mass of the jungle loomed out of the night like a drowsing beast, only half-asleep.

She felt her way across the shore, going slowly, for her limbs felt new to her. The beach was scattered with the debris of the storm, and she tripped on a piece of wood, grazing her knee.

The silence of the world began to frighten her. She felt alone, abandoned by all she had known—even her own self, for she could not remember what she was called. Trees lined the shore, graceful assemblies of coconut palms and casuarinas. But when she addressed them, they did not answer.

She longed for a friendly voice, the touch of a hand she knew. She had been asleep for so long. If only someone would tell her what had happened . . .

Her foot knocked against something solid. This log seemed different—solid, but more yielding. She crouched down, reaching out, and felt warm flesh, the jutting edge of bone. The body was breathing. It stirred at her touch.

The girl opened her eyes. They gleamed as they caught the light of the moon, and they held the same look she must have on her own face—a look of recognition and relief. “Muna.”

“Is that my name?” said Muna, but she was not really questioning it. She had known at once that they belonged to each other. “I have forgotten yours.”

“I was called Sakti, I think,” said the other. “Help me up, kak,” she said, calling Muna ‘“sister,”‘ and from then on that was how they addressed each other.

Chapter 1
Six weeks later

The island of Janda Baik, the Straits of Malacca

Muna

The forests of Janda Baik were imposing even in the full glare of daylight. In the half-light of dawn they were something else altogether-an extrusion of another, inhuman world, beyond terror or awe.

The forests blanketed a large part of the island, but the villages clung to the coast. The people of the island went quietly in the shadow of the jungle, avoiding its notice. What came to pass in the jungle was the business of witches and spirits.

Of course, such business was precisely Mak Genggang's stock-in-trade. In appearance she was like any aged village woman to be found bent over cooking pots in a kitchen or selling vegetables in a market. Her manner, which combined warmth with an imperiousness that would not have been out of place in a palace, would not distinguish her from any other matriarch in her batik cloths.

Yet her appearance was deceptive. As everyone in Janda Baik knew, Mak Genggang was the foremost witch of the region, first among the magicians in the polities along the Straits. The King of Siam himself was said to have sought her counsel; she was renowned among practitioners of the magic arts in China and India; and she counted among her friends England's Sorceress Royal, who presided over the magicians of that distant country. Mak Genggang's name was known even in the Unseen Realm-the hidden world where the spirits live, next door to our own.

Despite her great powers she was a kindly woman, but as with many strong people who are not often afraid, it did not come naturally to her to take thought of the fears of the weak. It had been she who insisted that Muna and her sister Sakti depart at the start of the day, before the sun had quite risen.

"Magic is always strongest at a border," the witch had explained. "Whether it be between jungle and village, or earth and sea, or day and night."

Sakti's face had twitched. Muna had known just how she felt. Left to herself, Muna would not have set off any earlier than noon, when the sun would be high in the sky, its light inescapable.

"We will be guided by your judgment, of course, mak cik," Muna said. "But will not it be easier for us to see our way if we leave later in the day?"

"The sooner you are off, the better," said the witch firmly.

They had risen at dawn, when it was dark, and the sky was still a deep blue when they arrived at the edge of the jungle. Under the trees lay a shadowy world, full of mystery and discomfort-leeches, snakes, dangerous beasts . . . and magic. For through the jungle lay the shortest route to the Unseen Realm, the abode of djinns and spirits, whence all magic ultimately flowed.

"If we put you on a ship to England, it would be a year before you saw its shores," said Mak Genggang. "But the Unseen Realm borders all mortal lands, and it will take you no time at all to get there through the jungle. Any fool who wanders in the forest risks stumbling into the world of the spirits, if he does not take care."

Muna had heard all the usual stories of such fools, and the grisly ends to which they came. The tales were not such as to light in her any flame of desire to model herself on their heroes. "But is it safe to go this way, mak cik?"

"Of course it is not safe," said Mak Genggang impatiently. "But it would not be safe for you to remain here either. I shall make a path for you, and if you walk briskly, you will be in England before the Sorceress Royal has sat down to her breakfast."

The ceremony for the opening of the path was a simple one. Mak Genggang did not chant, nor work any great magic, so far as Muna could tell. She merely bowed her head, muttering and prodding the grass with a stick, as though she were searching for something she had lost.

Muna drew her shawl closer around her, shivering at the chill morning air. There must be more to the witch's activities than was apparent to unmagical eyes, for Sakti watched Mak Genggang with interest, seeming to forget her apprehension at the journey ahead.

There were only three of them at the forest's edge. No one else in Mak Genggang's household had been told of their departure. Of course Muna saw the need for discretion-it was no one's fault but their own that they were being sent away in secret.

Yet she regretted that she could not bid everyone good-bye. Like most persons of importance Mak Genggang boasted a numerous following, though hers was more variegated than was usual. In her substantial wooden house, set back from the rest of the village, resided a shifting...

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Verlag
Penguin Publishing Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2019
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0425283410
ISBN 13 
9780425283417
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
384
Kontakt zum Hersteller
ACE
https://www.penguin.com/

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