In the Serpent's Wake
(Sprache: Englisch)
From the critically acclaimed and bestselling author of Seraphina comes a piercing new fantasy adventure that champions our resilience and humility.
MIND OF THE WORLD,
OPEN YOUR EYES.
At the bottom of the world lies a...
MIND OF THE WORLD,
OPEN YOUR EYES.
At the bottom of the world lies a...
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From the critically acclaimed and bestselling author of Seraphina comes a piercing new fantasy adventure that champions our resilience and humility.MIND OF THE WORLD,
OPEN YOUR EYES.
At the bottom of the world lies a Serpent, the last of its kind.
Finding the Serpent will change lives.
Tess is a girl on a mission to save a friend.
Spira is a dragon seeking a new identity.
Marga is an explorer staking her claim on a man’s world.
Jacomo is a priest searching for his soul.
There are those who would give their lives to keep it hidden.
And those who would destroy it.
But the only people who will truly find the Serpent are those who have awakened to the world around them—with eyes open to the wondrous, the terrible, and the just.
Discover more critically-acclaimed YA from Rachel Hartman!
Seraphina
Shadow Scale
Tess of the Road
Lese-Probe zu „In the Serpent's Wake “
Remember, Worthy One:The world knew nothing at first. Then it gave birth to plants, who noticed what sunlight tasted like, and worms, who reveled in the luxuriant touch of soil. Soon the world s bright birds were perceiving the color of sound, its playful quigutl discerned the shapes of smells, and myriad eyes of every kind discovered sight and saw differently.
Behind these senses were minds so many! The world was too vast to fit into just one mind; it needed millions of them to consider itself from every possible angle.
The difficulty with minds is that each perceives itself as a separate thing, alone. And so the minds spin stories to bridge the gaps between them, like a spider s web. There are a million stories, and yet they are all one.
But come, Mind of the World. Open your eyes.
We have teased apart one filament, which might be a beginning.
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Once upon a time (the world always starts with time), a dragon scholar climbed the stairs of an inn in the bustling port city of Mardou.
There were fifty-six stairs. It only felt like twice as many as yesterday.
The dragon was in human form, a saarantras; they wouldn t have fit in the stairwell otherwise. They paused on each landing, leaning on a hooked cane. Dragons shouldn t feel irritated or bitter, but Scholar Spira was usually in enough pain to feel a bit of both.
Today their irritation was directed at Professor the dragon Ondir, who seemed determined to meddle endlessly with Spira s expedition. Their bitterness was for their knees, which gritted and stabbed with every step as if they were full of broken glass.
At the top of the stairs, muffled voices were audible behind the professor s door. Spira couldn t discern the words, but a sniff at the doorknob answered their most pertinent question. The person they d come to complain about the person Ondir had foisted onto Spira at the last minute, whose hundred barrels of pyria were even now being loaded onto the Sweet Jessia had arrived before them. This
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was going to be awkward.
Spira feared no awkwardness, however. Spira was born awkward.
They flung wide the door without knocking.
Enter, said Professor the dragon Ondir, rather too late.
The room was large and well appointed, with a view of the sea. A four-poster bed loomed at the end, curtains drawn (like a market stall, Spira thought). The right wall was dominated by windows, the left by a broad, roaring hearth.
Ondir, whose chair faced the door, was tall and gaunt like a proper saarantras (and utterly unlike Spira). His guest, facing him, looked to be much shorter. Spira could see only tightly curled hair, so fair as to be almost white.
Lord Hamish, have you met Scholar Spira, leader of our expedition? said Ondir.
We weren t properly introduced, said the pale man, leaping up to perform the elaborate genuflections Southlanders called courtesy.
Dragons generally ignored such performative nonsense and never bothered learning to distinguish one degree of courtesy from another. Spira had bothered. Spira had Tathlann s syndrome; their egg had been ripped from the maternal oviduct before the last, crucial hormonal infusions. Spira had no maternal memories, none of the basic knowledge other dragons hatched with: language; flight; who was likely to eat you. Ondir had once calculated that a dragon with Tathlann s syndrome must study four times harder just to make up for that congenital deficit.
Spira had taken it upon themself to study 6.3 times harder. It paid off in surprising ways.
Lord Hamish gave five-sixteenths courtesy the tiniest increment more than they deserved. Either the man was insulting them, or he had an idiosyncratic sense of humor. Spira didn t care which; the fact got filed away for later.
His lordship, pale and petite, was dre
Spira feared no awkwardness, however. Spira was born awkward.
They flung wide the door without knocking.
Enter, said Professor the dragon Ondir, rather too late.
The room was large and well appointed, with a view of the sea. A four-poster bed loomed at the end, curtains drawn (like a market stall, Spira thought). The right wall was dominated by windows, the left by a broad, roaring hearth.
Ondir, whose chair faced the door, was tall and gaunt like a proper saarantras (and utterly unlike Spira). His guest, facing him, looked to be much shorter. Spira could see only tightly curled hair, so fair as to be almost white.
Lord Hamish, have you met Scholar Spira, leader of our expedition? said Ondir.
We weren t properly introduced, said the pale man, leaping up to perform the elaborate genuflections Southlanders called courtesy.
Dragons generally ignored such performative nonsense and never bothered learning to distinguish one degree of courtesy from another. Spira had bothered. Spira had Tathlann s syndrome; their egg had been ripped from the maternal oviduct before the last, crucial hormonal infusions. Spira had no maternal memories, none of the basic knowledge other dragons hatched with: language; flight; who was likely to eat you. Ondir had once calculated that a dragon with Tathlann s syndrome must study four times harder just to make up for that congenital deficit.
Spira had taken it upon themself to study 6.3 times harder. It paid off in surprising ways.
Lord Hamish gave five-sixteenths courtesy the tiniest increment more than they deserved. Either the man was insulting them, or he had an idiosyncratic sense of humor. Spira didn t care which; the fact got filed away for later.
His lordship, pale and petite, was dre
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Rachel Hartman
RACHEL HARTMAN is the author of the acclaimed and New York Times bestselling YA fantasy novel Seraphina, which won the William C. Morris YA debut Award in 2013, and the New York Times bestselling sequel Shadow Scale and Tess of the Road. Rachel lives with her family in Vancouver, Canada. In her free time, she sings madrigals, walks her whippet in the rain, and is learning to fence. To learn more, please visit SeraphinaBooks.com or RachelHartmanBooks.com.
Produktdetails
- Autor: Rachel Hartman
- Altersempfehlung: Ab 12 Jahre
- 2022, International, 512 Seiten, Maße: 15,5 x 23,2 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Random House Books for Young Readers
- ISBN-10: 0593487206
- ISBN-13: 9780593487204
- Erscheinungsdatum: 11.02.2022
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
"Wonderful, instantly immersive and deeply affecting." The New York TimesHartman deftly reflects our own world s worries in this adventurous fantasy, but always with an eye toward hope and healing . This is a much-needed book. Booklist, starred review
Hartman s inclusive world grapples with questions of sovereignty and colonization, religion, and gender in ways that both reflect and comment on our own world . A compelling duology closer." Kirkus Reviews
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