{"product_id":"the-shamer-s-war-isbn-9781782692317","title":"The Shamer’s War","description":"\u003cb\u003eThe final book in the thrilling fantasy adventure series, The Shamer Chronicles\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Dragon Lord of Dunark is ruthlessly hunting down Shamers and burning them at the stake. He must be brought down, and so a rebellion is formed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eRebellions need leaders, and what better choice than the legitimate heir to Dunark, Dina's friend Nico? Nico is reluctant to kill even a rabbit. Still, Dina's considerable powers should help him triumph over the Dragon Lord. But Nico knows only too well that heroes have a nasty habit of ending up dead...\"The series as a whole is in good standing alongside Philip Pullman's \u003ci\u003eHis Dark Materials\u003c\/i\u003e trilogy and C. S. Lewis' \u003ci\u003eThe Chronicles of Narnia\u003c\/i\u003e.\" \u003cb\u003e— \u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e, starred review\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"The term 'page-turner' is often used, but not always justified. It is deserved here, tenfold. I really, really couldn't put the book down.\" \u003cb\u003e— \u003ci\u003eSchool Librarian\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"The most original new fiction of this kind ... thrilling and thoughtful.\" \u003cb\u003e— \u003ci\u003eThe Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Spiced with likable characters and an intriguing new magical ability - eagerly awaiting volume two.\" \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eKirkus\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"This novel stands on its own and offers a satisfying conclusion even as it provides an intriguing setting and mythology for future adventures.\" \u003cb\u003e— \u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"An absorbing and fast-paced fantasy\/mystery bursting with action and intrigue. The only question is: when will the next one come out?\" \u003cb\u003e— \u003ci\u003eBulletin of the Center for Children's Books\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003eI   gobbled it up. --Tamora Pierce, author of 'The Song of the Lioness'\u003cbr\u003e Tremendous novel... Dragons, murder, treachery and highly tropical thrills.   -- Amanda Craig, author of The Lie of the LandAn award-winning and highly acclaimed writer of fantasy, Lene Kaaberbøl was born in 1960, grew up in the Danish countryside and had her first book published at the age of 15. Since then she has written more than 30 books for children and young adults. Lene's huge international breakthrough came with \u003ci\u003eThe Shamer Chronicles,\u003c\/i\u003e which is published in more than 25 countries selling over a million copies worldwide.DAVIN\u003cbr\u003e My Name Is Davin\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e My name is Davin. My name is Davin. My name is Davin.\u003cbr\u003e I kept repeating it to myself, over and over again. Trying to\u003cbr\u003e hold on to everything it meant: Dina’s brother. Melli’s brother.\u003cbr\u003e My mother’s son, and Nico’s friend. A human being. Not . . .\u003cbr\u003e . . . your name is murderer . . .\u003cbr\u003e . . . Not what the voices were saying. Not what they were\u003cbr\u003e whispering to me in the darkness when I was trying to go to\u003cbr\u003e sleep.\u003cbr\u003e . . . your name is murderer . . . your name is coward . . .\u003cbr\u003e I sat up in bed. My palms were sweaty and cold. I wrapped\u003cbr\u003e my arms around my head as though I was afraid someone\u003cbr\u003e would hit me, but I knew I couldn’t shut out the voices. They\u003cbr\u003e were inside me. They had sneaked in, burrowed in, the days\u003cbr\u003e and nights I had been locked in the Hall of the Whisperers,\u003cbr\u003e surrounded by stone faces with empty eyes and yawning mouths\u003cbr\u003e that kept whispering and whispering, over and over, hour after\u003cbr\u003e hour, until one would rather die than keep on listening.\u003cbr\u003e The house was dark. Darker still here in my small enclosure.\u003cbr\u003e I couldn’t stand the darkness anymore because I kept seeing\u003cbr\u003e things that weren’t there. Faces. Dead eyes. Dark blood seeping\u003cbr\u003e from a half-cut throat. . . .\u003cbr\u003e I leaped to my feet and yanked the curtain aside. Bluish\u003cbr\u003e slivers of moonlight came in through the cracks in the shutters,\u003cbr\u003e like pale knives. As soundlessly as possible I opened the\u003cbr\u003e door and went out. The trampled grass of the yard was damp\u003cbr\u003e and hoar-cold against the soles of my bare feet, but I had no\u003cbr\u003e time for shoes. I ran. Slowly at first, then more quickly, along\u003cbr\u003e the path to Maudi’s farm, past the old black pear trees in her\u003cbr\u003e orchard, up the next hill, and on up into the naked heights\u003cbr\u003e that seemed so close to the sky it felt as if I could pick the stars\u003cbr\u003e like apples just by reaching for them. I didn’t stop. I just kept\u003cbr\u003e running, so that my breath came in deep jerks and I could feel\u003cbr\u003e my heartbeat in every last inch of my body. I wasn’t cold,\u003cbr\u003e despite my bare feet; my blood was pumping too hard, and\u003cbr\u003e pure sweat was running down my back and chest inside the\u003cbr\u003e nightshirt.\u003cbr\u003e It took perhaps an hour before I had run the voices out of\u003cbr\u003e my head and the horror out of my body. Then I turned, trotting\u003cbr\u003e back to Yew Tree Cottage at a more leisurely pace. I stopped at\u003cbr\u003e the pump in the yard to wash the sweat from my cooling body,\u003cbr\u003e and to drink my fill.\u003cbr\u003e The cottage door was open. In the dark doorway, Mama\u003cbr\u003e was waiting. She didn’t say anything; just held out a glass of\u003cbr\u003e elderberry juice and a woolly blanket. She knew I would start\u003cbr\u003e shaking the moment I stopped sweating. For the briefest of\u003cbr\u003e moments she rested her hand against my cheek. Then she went\u003cbr\u003e back to the end room where she and Melli slept, still without\u003cbr\u003e speaking a word.\u003cbr\u003e It wasn’t every night I ran like this, but perhaps one out of\u003cbr\u003e two or three. It was the only thing that helped once the voices\u003cbr\u003e had hold of me. Mama woke up every time—not necessarily\u003cbr\u003e when I got up, but by the time I came back, she was always\u003cbr\u003e awake. It was as if she had some instinct telling her that one of\u003cbr\u003e her children was no longer in the house. I hadn’t told her about\u003cbr\u003e the voices, but she had probably guessed that my sleeplessness\u003cbr\u003e had something to do with the Sagisburg and the Hall of the\u003cbr\u003e Whisperers. In the beginning she had asked me if there was\u003cbr\u003e anything wrong, but I always said no, and now she had stopped\u003cbr\u003e asking. She was just there, waiting, with the blanket and the\u003cbr\u003e sweet elderberry juice, and then the two of us went back to bed.\u003cbr\u003e I lay down on the cot in my enclosure and wrapped myself\u003cbr\u003e in the blankets. My feet were hurting me now, but that didn’t\u003cbr\u003e matter. In my head there was only silence, and I fell asleep\u003cbr\u003e almost at once.","brand":"Pushkin Children's Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302223433957,"sku":"NP9781782692317","price":12.95,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9781782692317.jpg?v=1742926676","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-shamer-s-war-isbn-9781782692317","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}