THE ROCK OF IVANORE
THE CELESTINE CHRONICLES, BOOK I
“…a gripping fantasy just right for younger readers who clamor for adventure.” – Deseret News
"This is a swift and compelling epic that readers of high fantasy will love!" - Tony Abbott, author of The Secrets of Droon
“Reyes … firmly holds readers' attention throughout this exciting and surprising tale.” – School Library Journal
“Young readers…will delight in this opening title in The Celestine Chronicles series, which delivers a fantasy adventure for a reluctant readership.” – Booklist
“Marcus is a hero who engages challenges in a way that is both human and admirable.” – Publisher’s Weekly
“Magic! Swords! Mysterious cloaked figures! A good choice for middle-grade fantasy lovers.” – Marissa Burt, author of Storybound
Order here for a copy signed by the author.
The annual Great Quest is about to be announced in Quendel, a task that will determine the future of Marcus and the other boys from the village who are coming of age. The wizard Zyll commands them to find the Rock of Ivanore, but he doesn't tell them what the Rock is exactly or where it can be found. Marcus must reach deep within himself to develop new powers of magic and find the strength to survive the wild lands and fierce enemies he encounters as he searches for the illusive Rock. If he succeeds, he will live a life of honor; if he fails, he will live a life of menial labor in shame. With more twists and turns than a labyrinth, and a story in which nothing is as it seems, this tale of deception and discovery keeps readers in suspense until the end.
Middle readers will find that The Rock of Ivanore fits nicely among the traditional fantasies they so enjoy. They will also appreciate its fresh and inventive take on the genre.
For ages 8 - 12
EXCERPT - PROLOGUE
The old enchanter rose from his cot, his joints creaking like rusty hinges. His sleep had been troubled, and thoughts of the days ahead worried him. Taking care not to wake his apprentice, Zyll went to the table in the center of the room, though his legs were so stiff that even traveling the width of his cottage required the use of a walking stick. With his free hand, he took a copper bowl down from a shelf and set it on the table. He grinned at the fresh bucket of water on the hearth, grateful that the boy had remembered to fill it this time.
Zyll ladled water into the bowl and peered at his reflection in it. How changed he looked, how unlike the man he used to be. His hair, once thick and dark, had thinned and grown white, and the skin around his mouth had creased, but his eyes still glowed with the vibrancy of youth. One thing, at least, had remained the same.
He laid his walking stick across the table, and then leaned closer to better view the image before him. The water darkened and another face replaced Zyll’s reflection, a younger man not altogether human—a half-breed.
The image widened. Crouching in a dark corridor, the half-breed crept from shadow to shadow. Slipping past two sentries, he entered a small chapel. He hurried to the altar and released a hidden latch that opened a small door near its base. Zyll watched as the half-breed removed a scroll concealed within and hid it beneath his cloak.
Just then, the chapel door flew open with a tremendous shudder. There, framed in torchlight, stood a man with red hair accompanied by seven man-like beasts with hairy faces pocked with repulsive scars.
The red-headed man charged angrily into the room, his sword slashing down in a wide, rapid arc. The half-breed hastily drew his sword just in time to deflect the blow, and then countered with his own. His blade tasted flesh, and the red-headed man collapsed to his knees, his hands grasping the side of his bloody face.
The half-breed spied a small object on the floor and managed to snatch it up before the beasts attacked. Though he fought them with inhuman strength, they soon drove him up against the wall.
Cornered and outnumbered, the half-breed turned to the window and gazed down. The image in the bowl shifted, and Zyll saw what the half-breed saw: angry ocean waves beating against the rocks far below. Suddenly the waves rushed up toward him, and Zyll realized that the half-breed had leapt from the window. Zyll watched him fall, and as he fell, the half-breed twisted his body to look up at the sky. For one fleeting moment, before he plunged into the sea, his inhuman cat eyes met Zyll’s.
The enchanter’s breath caught in his throat, and he stumbled back. When he looked in the bowl again, the image had vanished.
Zyll dropped into a chair resting his weary arms on the table. He glanced at the fair-haired boy who slept on, then choked out a whisper. “So it begins.”