Informationen zum Autor Juliet Marillier is the author of several highly popular fantasy novels for adults, including the Sevenwaters Trilogy and the Bridei Chronicles. She is also the author of the teen novels Wildwood Dancing and Cybele's Secret , and the other two books in the Shadowfell trilogy, Shadowfell and Raven Flight . Klappentext In the final book in this gripping, romantic fantasy trilogy perfect for fans of Robin McKinley, Kristin Cashore, and Shannon Hale, the band of rebels reach their climactic confrontation with the king. Just one year ago, Neryn had nothing but a canny skill she barely understood and a faint dream that the legendary rebel base of Shadowfell might be real. Now she is the rebels' secret weapon, and their greatest hope for survival in the fast-approaching ambush of King Keldec at Summerfort. The fate of Alban itself is in her hands. But confidence is stretching thinner by the day when word of another Caller reaches the rebels: a Caller at Keldec's side with all of Neryn's power and none of her benevolence or hard-earned control. As the days before the battle drop quickly away, Neryn must find a way to uncover-and exploit-her opponent's weaknesses. At stake lies freedom for the people of Alban, a life free from hiding for the Good Folk-and a chance for Flint and Neryn to finally be together. Leseprobe Chapter One With winter closing its fists tight on the mountains, the ground was too hard for even the strongest man to get a spade in. So we laid Regan's head to rest in stone, and sealed it there by magic. The whole community of rebels was present, along with the clan of Good Folk who lived below us at Shadowfell in their own network of chambers and tunnels. The area called the Folds was deeply uncanny, a place that changed its form as it chose. So it was on the day we bade our beloved leader farewell. Woodrush, the wise woman of the Northies, spoke a prayer and a charm, and a hollow opened up in the mountainside, just the right size for the head in its sealed oakwood box to fit snugly within. Tali and her brother, Fingal, placed the box; Milla held the lantern. Dusk seemed the right time to lay our leader down to his well-earned rest. Tali spoke words of farewell and blessing. Her speech was brief; she was struggling to hold herself together. The flickering lamplight gave the ravens tattooed around her neck a curious life, as if they were really flying their straight, true course. Then Woodrush moved her hands over the stone again, and the hollow closed up as if it had never been. We shivered in our thick cloaks. Snow lay on the mountaintops, and the wind whistled a song of winter. When we had made our goodbyes, we retreated indoors to the warmth of Shadowfell's dining chamber. The whole place was belowground, apart from the practice area. That was where Andra drilled Shadowfell's warriors while Tali, now leader of the rebel movement, prepared her strategy for the final challenge to King Keldec's rule. We had less than a year to achieve it. The support of the powerful northern chieftain, Lannan Long-Arm, was dependent on our mounting the challenge at the next midsummer Gathering. Before that time came, we had to create a fighting force made up of humankind and Good Folk, a force sufficiently strong and united to stand up against the power of the king and his Enforcers. It was a near-impossible task. The Good Folk did not trust humans. They did not even trust each other. Why would they set themselves at such risk when they could simply go to ground and wait for the bad times to pass? The answer, remarkably enough, was me. It had taken me a long time to accept that I was indeed a Caller, a person with the unusual gift of being able to see, hear, and summon the Good Folk no matter where they were; a person who could call forth uncanny beings and persuade them to work with humankind for the greater good....

Klappentext

In the final book in this gripping, romantic fantasy trilogy perfect for fans of Robin McKinley, Kristin Cashore, and Shannon Hale, the band of rebels reach their climactic confrontation with the king.

Just one year ago, Neryn had nothing but a canny skill she barely understood and a faint dream that the legendary rebel base of Shadowfell might be real. Now she is the rebels' secret weapon, and their greatest hope for survival in the fast-approaching ambush of King Keldec at Summerfort.

The fate of Alban itself is in her hands. But confidence is stretching thinner by the day when word of another Caller reaches the rebels: a Caller at Keldec's side with all of Neryn's power and none of her benevolence or hard-earned control. As the days before the battle drop quickly away, Neryn must find a way to uncover-and exploit-her opponent's weaknesses. At stake lies freedom for the people of Alban, a life free from hiding for the Good Folk-and a chance for Flint and Neryn to finally be together.

Leseprobe
Chapter One
With winter closing its fists tight on the mountains, the ground was too hard for even the strongest man to get a spade in. So we laid Regan's head to rest in stone, and sealed it there by magic.
The whole community of rebels was present, along with the clan of Good Folk who lived below us at Shadowfell in their own network of chambers and tunnels. The area called the Folds was deeply uncanny, a place that changed its form as it chose. So it was on the day we bade our beloved leader farewell.
Woodrush, the wise woman of the Northies, spoke a prayer and a charm, and a hollow opened up in the mountainside, just the right size for the head in its sealed oakwood box to fit snugly within. Tali and her brother, Fingal, placed the box; Milla held the lantern. Dusk seemed the right time to lay our leader down to his well-earned rest.
Tali spoke words of farewell and blessing. Her speech was brief; she was struggling to hold herself together. The flickering lamplight gave the ravens tattooed around her neck a curious life, as if they were really flying their straight, true course. Then Woodrush moved her hands over the stone again, and the hollow closed up as if it had never been.
We shivered in our thick cloaks. Snow lay on the mountaintops, and the wind whistled a song of winter. When we had made our goodbyes, we retreated indoors to the warmth of Shadowfell's dining chamber. The whole place was belowground, apart from the practice area. That was where Andra drilled Shadowfell's warriors while Tali, now leader of the rebel movement, prepared her strategy for the final challenge to King Keldec's rule.
We had less than a year to achieve it. The support of the powerful northern chieftain, Lannan Long-Arm, was dependent on our mounting the challenge at the next midsummer Gathering. Before that time came, we had to create a fighting force made up of humankind and Good Folk, a force sufficiently strong and united to stand up against the power of the king and his Enforcers. It was a near-impossible task. The Good Folk did not trust humans. They did not even trust each other. Why would they set themselves at such risk when they could simply go to ground and wait for the bad times to pass?
The answer, remarkably enough, was me. It had taken me a long time to accept that I was indeed a Caller, a person with the unusual gift of being able to see, hear, and summon the Good Folk no matter where they were; a person who could call forth uncanny beings and persuade them to work with humankind for the greater good. Call them to fight. I'd struggled with this. I still did. Summoning folk into possible harm, even death, felt deeply wrong to me. In Regan's eyes, all that had mattered was the cause. If the rebellion were to succeed, he'd said, we must set aside such concerns. We must be prepared to do whatever was needed to ensure the tyrant's downfall. It was a lesson every rebel at Shadowfell had taken to heart.
When I'd first made my way here, a scant year ago, my talent had…