The Fire Chronicle

Zusatztext Starred Review! Publishers Weekly ! October 8! 2012: Fans of The Emerald Atlas will find much to love: the adventure-driven plot! a scattering of deliciously scary moments! and Stephens's offbeat take on Tolkienesque dragons! dwarves! and elves are sure to delight. Starred Review! School Library Journal ! October 1! 2012: Fans of the first book won't be disappointed! and will eagerly anticipate the next one. The Emerald Atlas was very good. This one is even better. Starred Review! Kirkus Reviews ! September 1! 2012: Irreverent humor and swashbuckling adventure collide in a fetching fantasy. From the Hardcover edition. Informationen zum Autor John Stephens is also the author of The Emerald Atlas, the first installment in the Books of Beginning trilogy. John received his MFA from the University of Virginia, and went on to write and produce television for ten years. During this time, he read His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman and fell in love with fantasy for young readers. He spent the next several years waking at 4 AM every morning to write The Emerald Atlas before heading to work for the day. John lives in Los Angeles with his wife and son and their dog, Bug. Visit BooksofBeginning.com to find out more about The Fire Chronicle, the Books of Beginning, and John. Klappentext After the tumultuous events of last winter! Kate! Michael! and Emma long to continue the hunt for their missing parents. But they themselves are now in great danger! and so the wizard Stanislaus Pym hides the children at the Edgar Allan Poe Home for Hopeless and Incorrigible Orphans. There! he says! they will be safe. How wrong he is. Kate finished writing the letter, sealed it in an envelope, then walked over and dropped it into the hollow of an old tree. He'll come, she told herself. She'd written to him about her dream, the one that had yanked her out of sleep every night that week. Again and again, she'd lain there in the dark, covered in cold sweat and waiting for her heart to slow, relieved that Emma, lying beside her, hadn't woken, relieved that it had only been a dream. Except it wasn't a dream; she knew that. He'll come, Kate repeated. When he reads it, he'll come. The day was hot and humid, and Kate wore a lightweight summer dress and a pair of patched leather sandals. Her hair was pulled back and cinched with a rubber band, though a few loose strands stuck to her face and neck. She was fifteen and taller than she'd been a year ago. In other respects, her appearance hadn't changed. With her dark blond hair and hazel eyes, she still struck all who saw her as a remarkably pretty girl. But a person did not have to look closely to see the furrow of worry that was etched into her brow, or the tension that lived in her arms and shoulders, or the way her fingernails were bitten to the quick. In that respect, truly, nothing had changed. Kate had not moved from beside the tree, but stood there, absently fingering the gold locket that hung from her neck. More than ten years earlier, Kate and her younger brother and sister had been sent away from their parents. They had grown up in a series of orphanages, a few that were nice and clean, run by kind men and women, but most of them not so nice, and the adults who ran them not so kind. The children had not been told why their parents had sent them away, or when they were coming back. But that their parents would eventually return, that they would all once more be a family, the children had never doubted. It had been Kate's duty to look after her brother and sister. She had made that promise the night her mother had come into her room that Christmas Eve so long ago. She could picture it still: her mother leaning over her, fastening the golden locket around her small neck, as Kate promised ...

Autorentext

John Stephens is also the author of The Emerald Atlas, the first installment in the Books of Beginning trilogy.  John received his MFA from the University of Virginia, and went on to write and produce television for ten years.  During this time, he read His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman and fell in love with fantasy for young readers.  He spent the next several years waking at 4 AM every morning to write The Emerald Atlas before heading to work for the day.
John lives in Los Angeles with his wife and son and their dog, Bug. Visit BooksofBeginning.com to find out more about The Fire Chronicle, the Books of Beginning, and John.

Klappentext

After the tumultuous events of last winter, Kate, Michael, and Emma long to continue the hunt for their missing parents. But they themselves are now in great danger, and so the wizard Stanislaus Pym hides the children at the Edgar Allan Poe Home for Hopeless and Incorrigible Orphans. There, he says, they will be safe. How wrong he is.

Leseprobe
Kate finished writing the letter, sealed it in an envelope, then walked over and dropped it into the hollow of an old tree.

He’ll come, she told herself.

She’d written to him about her dream, the one that had yanked her out of sleep every night that week. Again and again, she’d lain there in the dark, covered in cold sweat and waiting for her heart to slow, relieved that Emma, lying beside her, hadn’t woken, relieved that it had only been a dream.

Except it wasn’t a dream; she knew that.

He’ll come, Kate repeated. When he reads it, he’ll come.

The day was hot and humid, and Kate wore a lightweight summer dress and a pair of patched leather sandals. Her hair was pulled back and cinched with a rubber band, though a few loose strands stuck to her face and neck. She was fifteen and taller than she’d been a year ago. In other respects, her appearance hadn’t changed. With her dark blond hair and hazel eyes, she still struck all who saw her as a remarkably pretty girl. But a person did not have to look closely to see the furrow of worry that was etched into her brow, or the tension that lived in her arms and shoulders, or the way her fingernails were bitten to the quick.

In that respect, truly, nothing had changed.

Kate had not moved from beside the tree, but stood there, absently fingering the gold locket that hung from her neck.

More than ten years earlier, Kate and her younger brother and sister had been sent away from their parents. They had grown up in a series of orphanages, a few that were nice and clean, run by kind men and women, but most of them not so nice, and the adults who ran them not so kind. The children had not been told why their parents had sent them away, or when they were coming back. But that their parents would eventually return, that they would all once more be a family, the children had never doubted.

It had been Kate’s duty to look after her brother and sister. She had made that promise the night her mother had come into her room that Christmas Eve so long ago. She could picture it still: her mother leaning over her, fastening the golden locket around her small neck, as Kate promised that she would protect Michael and Emma and keep them safe.

And year after year, in orphanage after orphanage, even when they had faced dangers and enemies they could never have imagined, Kate had been true to her word.

But if Dr. Pym didn’t come, how would she protect them now?

But he will come, she told herself. He hasn’t abandoned us.

If that’s so, said a voice in her head, why did he send you here?

And, unable to help herself, Kate turned and looked down the hill. There, visible through the trees, were the crumbling brick walls and turrets of the Edgar Allan Poe Home for Hopeless and Incorrigible Orphans.

In her defense, it was only when Kate was frustrated or tired that she questioned Dr. Pym’s decision to send her and Michael and Emma back to Baltimore. She knew he hadn’t really abandoned them. But the fac…