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    The Magic Word
    The Magic Word
    The Magic Word
    Ebook83 pages1 hour

    The Magic Word

    By Jennifer Fallon

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    From this internationally bestselling author, a wonderful story set in the world of Medalon and the Demon Child trilogy.
    A fabulous story of what happens when certain worlds collide!Princess Adrina, Damin Wolfblade, the High Prince of Hythria, and tarja, the Lord Defender seem to be experiencing a time loop ... reliving the same day constantly. In the dungeons being held prisoner is a young man by the name of Dirk Provin from the world of Ranadon ... he has an alarming message about the breakdown of the veil between their worlds. And when they set off to find the truth, they also find a crashed machine and tide Lords ... and a leipreachan. All they have to do to make everything right is find the 'magic word' ...
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins Publishers Australia
    Release dateNov 1, 2011
    ISBN9780730499299
    The Magic Word
    Author

    Jennifer Fallon

    Jennifer Fallon is the award-winning author of the Hythrun Chronicles, which began with the Demon Child Trilogy (Medalon, Treason Keep, Harshini), and the Tide Lords quartet. She is on of Australia's bestselling fantasy authors.

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      Book preview

      The Magic Word - Jennifer Fallon

      CHAPTER I

      Every morning the High Princess of Hythria sprinkled crumbs on the sill outside the living-room window of her borrowed apartment in the Medalonian capital, the Citadel, for the small brown bird that flew down to greet her.

      Every morning the little bird would land on the very edge of the stonework, tentatively approach the crumbs, tweeting softly, as if debating aloud the wisdom of accepting this unexpected bounty … and then he would snatch up the fattest crumb and fly away, disappearing amidst the shining white spires of the city with his prize.

      Every morning. The same bird, the same time, and, Adrina was starting to suspect, the same damn crumb.

      ‘Didn’t we do this yesterday?’ she said, climbing awkwardly to her feet as her winged visitor dived and swooped away toward his nest somewhere high in the white towers of the city.

      Damin glanced up from the scroll he was reading by the fire. He always got up before she did. And she always found him by the fire, which was odd, because, as a rule, Damin wasn’t the sitting-by-the-fire type.

      ‘Did we?’

      He sounded distracted. No, worse than that. Utterly disinterested.

      ‘I feel like I’ve been pregnant forever.’

      ‘Tell me about it.’

      Adrina glared at her husband — sitting there sipping mulled wine as if he didn’t have a care in the world. ‘So says Damin Wolfblade, the wastrel who spends his days swanning around the Citadel with the Lord Defender, pretending he’s important.’

      He grinned. ‘I’m the High Prince of Hythria, Adrina. I am important.’

      ‘And my job is to do nothing more than sit here incubating your precious Hythrun heir?’

      Damin put down his wine and turned to study her. ‘I rather thought you liked the idea of being here in Medalon. You kicked up a big enough fuss about coming along.’

      ‘I know …’ She sighed and stretched her aching back. ‘But don’t you ever feel as if we’ve been here in the Citadel forever?’

      Damin’s face creased with a thoughtful frown. ‘I never really thought about it.’

      ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’

      ‘All right,’ he said, smart enough to know when he was approaching the edge of a precipice. ‘Now that you mention it, it does seem like we’ve been here a long time, but I was under the impression we’re still here because we’re waiting for you to deliver my precious Hythrun heir before we can travel again. If you’re sick of being in Medalon … well, any time you’re ready, sweetheart.’

      The nearest thing to hand was Adrina’s empty wine goblet. She hurled it across the room, scoring a hit squarely over Damin’s left ear. The empty clay goblet fell to the ground, shattering as it landed.

      ‘Ow!’ Damin exclaimed, jumping to his feet as he rubbed his wounded head. ‘What was that for?’

      ‘For blaming me. It’s not my fault we’re stuck here.’

      He glared at her, still rubbing the lump on his head. But if he had a glib answer, he wisely kept it to himself. Assuming a much more sombre expression, he asked, ‘Do you seriously think it’s something magical keeping us here? Something to do with the Harshini, maybe?’

      ‘I don’t know. Perhaps we should ask Shananara. I can’t really explain it, though, so I’m not sure what we’d ask. I just have a feeling, that’s all, and it’s not indigestion brought on by pregnancy that’s causing it. Gods, I even feel like we have this conversation every morning.’

      ‘I’ll speak to Tarja.’

      ‘Which is your answer to everything, lately,’ she complained. ‘Can we go riding today?’

      ‘Won’t that be bad for the baby?’

      ‘Maybe it’ll bring the wretched creature on.’

      Nodding, Damin walked toward her. ‘Let’s ride then, and see if we can’t hurry this mighty prince’s entrance into the world.’

      Adrina glared at him, annoyed at the assumption she was having a son. Before she could say so, however, there was a knock at the door to their apartment — a suite once the luxurious quarters of a senior Sister of the Blade. Adrina didn’t know which sister had lived here and didn’t care to know. They all made her uneasy, so it hardly mattered anyway.

      ‘That’ll be Tarja,’ she muttered as Damin crossed the sitting room to open the door.

      He opened it and stepped back to allow their visitor into the room. Adrina sighed. Sure enough — as she had known it would be — it was Tarja Tenragan.

      The tall, dark-haired Lord Defender bowed politely to both of them. ‘Good morning, Damin. Your highness.’

      ‘Good morning, Tarja,’ Adrina said, with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Tarja … she was just sick of seeing him. She was sick of everyone here. She really did feel as if she’d been trapped here in Medalon for years, not just the month or so it should have been. ‘Did you want something, Tarja? Damin and I were just about to go riding.’

      ‘Of course,’ The Lord Defender said with a smile. ‘I’ll order your horses saddled …’

      The small brown bird flew down to eat the crumbs Adrina sprinkled on the sill outside the living-room window of her apartment. He landed on the very edge of the stonework, tentatively approaching the crumbs, tweeting softly, as if debating aloud the wisdom of accepting this unexpected bounty … and then snatched up the fattest crumb and flew away, disappearing amidst the shining white spires of the city with his prize.

      The same bird, the same time, and, Adrina was becoming convinced, it was the same damn crumb.

      ‘Didn’t we do this yesterday?’ she said, climbing awkwardly to her feet as the sparrow dived and swooped away, as he always did,

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