By Hilari Bell
Can a bard, a sword, a unicorn–and a hopeless prince–save a state? Fourteen–year–old Prince Perryn is teased for loving books greater than swords. yet Perryn's books are his most sensible guns to prevent the dragon that's destroying his kingdom–and his one wish of incomes his father's admire. while he reveals a prophecy on how you can kill the dragon, Perryn units out to discover the 3 issues had to make it come true–a unicorn, a real bard, and a unique sword. yet, as we all know, the single other thing absurd than pursuing a prophecy is believing any of those legends may well nonetheless be discovered. From acclaimed writer Hilari Bell, The Prophecy unfolds with wit, knowledge, possibility, and discovery, as any unforgettable event may still!
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Extra info for The Prophecy
His word against Cedric’s. No, he couldn’t tell his father. Still, he had to tell someone! A spy, a Norseman, in the king’s confidence, privy to all his plans. No wonder the war was going so badly! But who could he tell? — did. Was there anyone who could help him? He’d had no friend in the castle besides the servants since old Ovis, his tutor, had died. And even if there was someone he might have appealed to, his door was bolted shut. An accident. It could happen tonight. Right now! Perryn sprang to his feet and then sank back.
He learned to work with the grain of the wood. He learned how to make the ax fall precisely where he wanted it to. He developed a rhythmic swing that ate steadily at the woodpile. Lysander was at the window less often now. From the cell Perryn began to hear chords, fragments of melody, and an occasional, muttered curse. - 53 Finally Perryn stood, chest heaving, before the chopping block. A small mountain of kindling rose behind him—not bad, for a scholar! Only ten logs remained. He hadn’t seen Lysander since early yesterday.
If you needed a job we could—” “Truly? No, I’m sorry. ” No one had ever offered him a job. It left Perryn with an astonishing sense of pride. Or not so astonishing—lowly the job might be, but he’d earned it with his own work. “Thank you,” he said. ” He left the clerk’s office and was almost out of the public hall when a familiar voice from outside the door froze him in his tracks. “I must see the justice. King’s business. ” Cedric! Perryn backed up against a bench. “He’ll likely be in the public hall, sir,” a woman replied.