Heroes of Havensong: Dragonboy - Hardcover

Buch 1 von 3: Heroes of Havensong

Reyes, Megan

 
9780593482377: Heroes of Havensong: Dragonboy
Hardcover
ISBN 10: 0593482379 ISBN 13: 9780593482377
Verlag: Labyrinth Road, 2023

Inhaltsangabe

This timeless fantasy debut follows four unlikely heroes—a boy-turned-dragon, his reluctant dragon rider, a runaway witch, and a young soldier—bound by the Fates to save their world, and magic itself, from being destroyed.

Blue, River, Wren, and Shenli grew up on different sides of a war they didn’t start. Their land has been torn apart over centuries of conflict, with humans taught to fear all things magical, dragons driven to near extinction, and magic under attack. But an ancient prophecy has put the four them on a collision course with destiny—and with each other—in a mission to heal the fractured realm once known as Haven. 

All of them must follow the threads of Fate, leaving behind the lives and homes they know to discover the truth about the seemingly endless war—and the truth about themselves. As the barriers between them begin to crumble, can they unravel the lies they’ve been taught to believe in order to restore the balance between humans, dragons, and magic before it’s too late?

“A powerful cast of characters in an epic tale of dragons and magic.” —Lisa McMann, New York Times bestselling author of The Unwanteds and Map of Flames

Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Megan Reyes lives in Northern California with her husband, four sons, two dogs, and an ever-growing collection of dragon figurines. When she’s not writing, she’s probably drawing, painting, going on walks, or getting lost in a new book. Heroes of Havensong: Dragonboy is her first novel.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

1.

Every twenty-five years, the king of Gerbera is eaten by a dragon.

It is tradition.


What’s that, young one? No, I imagine it isn’t very pleasant, but what else is the human king to do? He has his honor to uphold, after all. And a deal’s a deal. One king every quarter century, and in exchange, the dragons leave the villages of Gerbera well enough alone.

That’s the way it’s always been. For nearly a thousand years.

No, I am not that old. You mind your tongue, kit. Before I toss you to the shadow bears for breakfast.

Of course I’m joking.

Your mother would be furious with me.

Why do the dragons want kings? How should I know? Maybe they taste better than ordinary humans. Leave it to dragons to be so particular. And, no, I don’t know why they wait twenty-five years. Maybe that’s when a human is ripe? I don’t care to think about it too much, if you don’t mind. Now hold still while I get this twig untangled from your fur.

Ah, well, the humans have no choice, you see. They must keep the peace with the fire beasts. They’ve nowhere else to go. Beyond their forest is Dragon Mountain, and that’s where the world ends.

Everyone knows that.

Besides, humans are not as clever as foxes, dear. But don’t hold that against them. They do their best. Oof, stop squirming about, would you? I’ve almost got the blasted twig free.

What’s that? Where do they get the new king? Perhaps they grow kings like carrots. My whiskers, you ask so many questions. You are giving me a headache.

Fine. Fine. You may ask one more. If you must.

What would happen if a king didn’t present himself to the dragons?

Whiskers of mercy! I pale to think of it. Our forest stretches to the base of Dragon Mountain, after all. The fury of the dragonfire would surely be the end of everyone.

No, youngling. Do not fret. You have nothing to fear. Don’t you see? The human king always comes, just as he should. It has forever been thus.

He gives his life to save us all.

Now sleep, little one. If you’re quiet enough, you can hear the moon rise.


2.


In Which Some Magic Gets the Hiccups


Three hundred years before the Fourth War


Many years ago, and half a world away, Madam Seer Madera Starling let out a yelp. Her violet eyes popped open, the pools of midnight darkness pressing in on her, trying to keep her in bed.

The smell of rain and sage flower wafted through the open windows, promising her that all was well. But the old woman knew how flowers spun their untruths when it suited them. She cast the sage petals a look through the window. All was well indeed.

Madera slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed, her silver-white hair falling to her waist in twisty braids. She grasped the cane leaning against the wall, drawing in breath slowly, committing each detail of her dream to memory. The moonlight fell across her dark brown hands in a soft glow.

“That was you, wasn’t it?” she asked the rising wisp of violet smoke hovering over her nightstand.

Madera’s Magic hummed its agreement, swirling in a slow circle, drifting toward the woman’s outstretched hand. “You haven’t given me dreams in ages. Not since--” She shuddered and shook the memory away. Her Magic floated toward her, now a purple tornado. Madera rolled her eyes.

“There’s no need to be dramatic,” she scolded as she pushed herself to stand. The tornado let out an audible huff and then slowed to form a cumulus cloud.

“Haru!” Madera called, knowing the Scribe would hear. The boy slept lighter than a pile of feathers.

A crash rang from the hallway, just outside Madera’s bedroom. A few moments later, the door creaked open and Haru stumbled forward, his thin raven hair sticking up like a sea urchin. His firequill glowed in one hand, lighting up his tan face, with a scroll of parchment tucked under his other arm.

“You . . . called?” said Haru, blinking sleep from his eyes. They were brown with little specks of teal--starting to match the color of his Magic, which now sat on his shoulder.

“I need you to record a prophecy, Haru.”

The purple smoke growled.

“Now, you hush,” Madera snapped. “We’re doing this properly, and that’s final.”

Her Magic sighed rather theatrically.

“A prophecy, Madam Madera?” Haru repeated, his eyes stealing a hesitant glance at the purple smoke. Still a new Scribe, Haru Tanaka was eager to prove himself. The most he’d ever recorded was Elder Myrtle’s Theory on Magical Propriety. And that was nothing like a prophecy--more of a yawn-inducing ramble.

“You’ll do just fine, child, as long as you pay attention,” Madera assured him with the same encouraging smile she’d used on new Scribes for the last half millennium. Haru gulped, readying his parchment. He held his hand steady, sparks of red fire shooting from the tip of his quill.

“Help me remember,” Madera told her Magic as it settled on the top of her head. She closed her eyes. “I see a newborn child. A boy. The mother is sobbing, but I cannot see her face. The baby is wrapped hastily in a tattered gray blanket. A filthy old thing.” She frowned as the next part of the dream bubbled into focus. “There’s a full moon and it’s snowing. Who carried him--the father, perhaps? The child is left on a doorstep. He . . . does not cry.” Her eyebrows scrunched together. “Why isn’t he crying? He’s so cold.”

The Seer searched her memories as her Magic danced lightly at her temples. There was something about a door with the head of a lion for a knocker. She could sense the child’s breathing, his quivering gums in the biting cold. His tiny heart raced in sheer terror, and still he did not cry.

“This child is of great significance,” said Madera, beads of sweat now trickling down her neck. “But I cannot See how.”

“He must be remarkable!” breathed Haru, scribbling furiously across the page, red sparks flying.

Madera shook her head. “No, but that’s just it. He is, in fact, utterly ordinary. No trace of heroic lineage. And when I try to See his future, there is only . . . vast nothingness.” Her frown deepened as she searched for more. There was great beauty in this boy. But there was something else too. Something . . . hidden in darkness.

A loud squeak rang through the room.

Haru’s scribbling ceased. “Was that . . . a hiccup?” he asked, his eyes fixed on Madera’s hovering Magic.

Madera shifted her weight on the cane, convincing herself they’d heard wrong. It was something outside. A beach bat or a river toad. Her Magic squeaked again, and she winced.

No, no, no.

Magic hiccups meant only one thing.

Something dreadful was coming.

“I cannot understand it. An ordinary boy. Destined for greatness and plagued by such darkness,” Madera whispered. “But his future is kept from me. Something or someone doesn’t want me to See properly.” And then a realization hit Madera so suddenly she nearly fell over onto the bed. “It’s . . . him.”

Her Magic bounced up and down.

“Him?” repeated Haru.

“The Awaited One.” She gaped at her Magic, finally understanding its urgency. “The one from...

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Verlag
Labyrinth Road
Erscheinungsdatum
2023
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593482379
ISBN 13 
9780593482377
Einband
Gebundene Ausgabe
Anzahl der Seiten
416
Kontakt zum Hersteller
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Verantwortliche Person
Nicht verfügbar

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