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Zusatztext Tamora Pierce An amazing tale of adventure! fear! magic! conquest! and rebellion! Informationen zum Autor Hilari Bell is a librarian in Denver, Colorado, where she lives with her family. Her favorite books are fantasy, science fiction, and mystery -- all the ingredients for a great novel! Hilari is also the author of the Farsala Trilogy -- Fall of a Kingdom, Rise of a Hero, and Forging the Sword -- as well as Songs of Power, A Matter of Profit, and The Goblin Wood. Klappentext 1: The Flame!" this first book of Bell's epic trilogy introduces readers to a world of honor! danger! and magic through a tale of self-discovery of three young people who watch as their world is torn apart. Chapter One: Jiaan Jiaan ducked, and a bronze cup shaped like a ram's horn crashed into the wall behind him. It didn't clatter on the floor, since the thick carpets that had already absorbed its contents muffled the sound. He hoped the carpets wouldn't be too hard to clean. Jiaan knew that some people found it harder than others to fight off the djinn of rage. But he didn't think the lady Soraya was even trying. "Lady, if you'll just lis --" "I have listened," the girl snarled. Her grip tightened on the second cup. Her loose hair -- the straight, black hair of the noblest of noble lines -- was disheveled. The tight vest she wore beneath her loose, silk overrobe rose and fell with the force of her breathing. At fifteen, she was probably the most beautifully feminine creature Jiaan had ever seen -- so what djinn-cursed fool had taught her to throw like a shepherd boy? "I have listened," she repeated. "But all I've heard is that my father -- my own father! -- seeks to cast me out like some peas -- like broken rubbish!" Like some peasant-spawned bastard. It was an insult so familiar that Jiaan's heart hardly flinched. At least she hadn't said it aloud. That surprised him; most deghasses wouldn't have given a moment's thought to the possibility that he might be offended. But Jiaan's father hadn't cast him out. Far from it. And High Commander Merahb didn't intend... "He doesn't intend to cast you out." Jiaan made his tone reasonable, despite the way her lovely, dark eyes narrowed. "He only means to hide you away for a time, in order to --" "Away in some peasant sty..." The second cup flew, and Jiaan sidestepped nimbly. "...in some dung-sucking outland while..." Her groping hand found a niche, carved into the outer wall between the arched windows, and came to rest on a goblet whose glass bowl glowed as blue as the heart of a flame. Its base was chased in gold. Its worth was probably ten times that of Jiaan's sword, and his sword was more costly than all his other possessions put together. The goblet hurtled toward the wall. Jiaan leaped, cursing the carpets that hindered his feet. He caught the goblet with the tips of his fingers, fumbled with it for an endless moment, and settled it into a secure grasp. The plate it had rested on, thrown like a discus, struck him full in the chest, bruising him even through the padded silk layers of his armor. "Ow!" Had she distracted him deliberately? "He's only trying to save your life, you...Lady Soraya. The gahn rules all of Farsala. Even the high commander has to obey him." "Dung!" she shrieked. The incense burner her hand fell on next -- small but solid stone and bronze -- made a dent in the heavy panels of the door at Jiaan's back. "The armies of Farsala haven't propitiated the war djinn since Rostam cast down the last djinn emperor. Centuries ago! And he thinks he's going to exile me for however long it takes to win his stupid war? Well, I won't --" The door behind Jiaan opened. "You won't have any choice," said a woman's voice coldly. "And if you're overheard by the wrong people, your choices will become fewer -- and even less p...
