The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel: The Lost Stories Collection
(Sprache: Englisch)
Nicholas Flamel appeared in J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter series but did you know he really lived? You can learn his secrets in the bestselling Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series, and discover the Lost Stories tales of myth, legend, and magic,...
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Nicholas Flamel appeared in J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter series but did you know he really lived? You can learn his secrets in the bestselling Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series, and discover the Lost Stories tales of myth, legend, and magic, previously lost to history and now in a new paperback edition!Enter the world of the Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel like you never have before.
The legendary alchemyst Nicholas Flamel and his wife, the sorceress Perenelle, traveled the globe for centuries before they discovered the Twins of Legend, Josh and Sophie Newman. Secrets abound and now you can discover even more of the Flamels story in this volume of eight stories set in the world of the internationally bestselling series.
Stand with the Flamels when they find the Codex, the book that holds the secret to their immortality. Follow Machiavelli under the perilous streets of Paris. Join Scatty and her twin, Aoife, as they journey through mysterious Shadowrealms. Within these pages you will meet enemies old and new and forge alliances with characters from history, myth, and legend, all as you uncover new mysteries and discover answers to questions remaining in the original series.
The Lost Stories Collection contains never-seen-in-print stories featuring series favorites like Niccolò Machiavelli, Billy the Kid, and Virginia Dare, as well as new characters like Edgar Allan Poe and St. Nicholas.
Every myth holds a grain of truth. Discover the truth now!
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1 A flash of light in the gloomy forest below, a blink of silver in the shadows.
It lasted less than a single heartbeat, vanishing in the same moment that the Airgead Sun dipped below the horizon, leaving only the Óir Sun low in the purpling skies.
Stop! The slender young woman in the long waxed cloak, scuffed black leather jerkin and trousers raised a clenched fist as she reined in her tall spiral-horned mount.
Behind her, a dozen huge-wheeled ox-drawn carts came to a lumbering, creaking halt. The long-horned oxen steamed and sweated in the chill air, too exhausted to bellow, and the drovers were experienced enough to remain still and quiet. Six mismatched mercenary guards fell into defensive positions, two on either side and two behind the last wagon, bows and crossbows ready.
Standing in the stirrups, the woman pushed back the hood of a heavy wire-lined cloak, revealing short spiky red hair. Shading bright green eyes against the low light of the setting Óir Sun, she looked ahead and to her left, down into the deeply shadowed valley below the narrow trail.
Moments ago, she d caught a glimpse of something, but it had vanished as quickly as it appeared. It might have been a trick of the fading suns, the warm golden light of the Óir Sun catching a pool of water, a flock of birds, or weaving bats, but her instincts were telling her otherwise, and Aoife of the Shadows had long ago discovered that warriors who ignored their instincts had a very short life span. Though she looked no older than seventeen, Aoife s age was measured in centuries, and she fully intended to live for at least a millennium.
Sinking back into the saddle, eyes wide and unblinking, she slowly moved her head left and right, not looking at anything in particular, nostrils flaring, confident that if there was anything out of place, then her unconscious mind would spot it.
What is
... mehr
it? Nels the wagon master demanded, interrupting her. The huge ox drover pushed his way through the steaming teams to stand alongside Aoife. He caught the horn jutting from the forehead of Aoife s mount and held the beast s head away from his face. The aonbheannach were beautiful but ill-tempered, with huge teeth capable of crushing a man s arm. Even though Aoife was sitting on the tall slender animal, the wagon master s bald and deeply scarred skull was almost on a level with hers.
Aoife shook her head. I m not sure, she said quietly, still looking. I saw something in the valley.
Where is it?
Gone now.
Probably nothing, Nels grunted. A reflection, maybe. He tugged at the reins of the aonbheannach, urging it forward.
Aoife clamped booted heels against the beast s side; the creature straightened it legs and refused to move.
Nels gave up. Though they were fine-boned and looked delicate and deer-like, the aonbheannach were as strong as his own oxen and only permitted female riders. The big man looked up at the Óir Sun and then back down the wagon train strung out along the narrow track behind them. We need to move on. We re leaving a trail even a blind snake could follow.
Most snakes have terrible eyesight but an excellent sense of smell, Aoife remarked, glancing sidelong at the wagon master.
Nels exuded a sour sweat, which, mingling with the rich odor of oxen, enveloped him in an almost tangible miasma. Aoife suspected that there was Boggart or Torc blood in the stinking wagon leader; she had never seen a man so ugly, and it would certainly account for his perpetual ill-humor.
The light is fading, and I don t want to be out on the mountains after dark.&rd
Aoife shook her head. I m not sure, she said quietly, still looking. I saw something in the valley.
Where is it?
Gone now.
Probably nothing, Nels grunted. A reflection, maybe. He tugged at the reins of the aonbheannach, urging it forward.
Aoife clamped booted heels against the beast s side; the creature straightened it legs and refused to move.
Nels gave up. Though they were fine-boned and looked delicate and deer-like, the aonbheannach were as strong as his own oxen and only permitted female riders. The big man looked up at the Óir Sun and then back down the wagon train strung out along the narrow track behind them. We need to move on. We re leaving a trail even a blind snake could follow.
Most snakes have terrible eyesight but an excellent sense of smell, Aoife remarked, glancing sidelong at the wagon master.
Nels exuded a sour sweat, which, mingling with the rich odor of oxen, enveloped him in an almost tangible miasma. Aoife suspected that there was Boggart or Torc blood in the stinking wagon leader; she had never seen a man so ugly, and it would certainly account for his perpetual ill-humor.
The light is fading, and I don t want to be out on the mountains after dark.&rd
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Michael Scott
An authority on mythology and folklore, Michael Scott is one of Ireland's most successful authors. A master of fantasy, science fiction, horror, and folklore, he was hailed by the Irish Times as "the King of Fantasy in these isles." Look for the six books in his New York Times bestselling The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series: book one, The Alchemyst; book two, The Magician; book three, The Sorceress; book four, The Necromancer; book five, The Warlock; and book six, The Enchantress. You can visit Michael Scott at dillonscott.com and follow him on Facebook and Twitter.
Produktdetails
- Autor: Michael Scott
- Altersempfehlung: Ab 12 Jahre
- 2022, 512 Seiten, Maße: 13,9 x 21,5 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Ember
- ISBN-10: 0593376927
- ISBN-13: 9780593376928
- Erscheinungsdatum: 04.01.2023
Sprache:
Englisch
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