Read more
Informationen zum Autor Hilari Bell Klappentext "I'D LIKE YOU TO FIND THE SWORD FOR ME. DO YOU THINK YOU COULD HANDLE THAT?" Arisa isn't certain how to respond when her mother, the Falcon, formerly a dangerous bandit but now lord commander of the army and navy of Deorthas, entrusts her with this extremely special mission. Everything changed for Arisa when she and her friend Weasel stumbled upon the ancient shield rumored to bestow power upon whoever holds it. With the shield, the Falcon was able to gain her new station, bringing Arisa into a world of royalty Arisa isn't even sure she enjoys. Now the Falcon wants Arisa to get close to young Prince Edoran, and join with Edoran and Weasel to search for the legendary sword that matches the shield. As Arisa's search progresses, however, she realizes she may be in danger from a deadly stranger. Worse -- she and her friends may be in even graver danger from someone they know all too well! Critically acclaimed fantasy author Hilari Bell continues the captivating trilogy begun in Shield of Stars with another thrilling, surprising, and wholly satisfying novel.SWORD OF WATERS CHAPTER 1 The Five of Stars: the quest. A search for something of value, or aspiration toward a significant goal. Silken skirts floated like bubbles as the ladies swayed through the stately measures of the dance. Music swirled over the conversation. Candlelight glowed on polished wood and highdressed hair, and glittered in the jewels. Arisa hated it. She hated the jewels, just one of which could have kept a struggling farm family for a year. She hated the sycophantic laughter that rippled around the bored-looking prince. But most of all, she hated the fact that she was wearing one of those never-to-be-sufficiently-accursed ball gowns. She wasn’t certain which aspect was worse, the corsets that kept her from bending or the big hoop and the layers of petticoats that kept her from moving. The ridiculously high heels on her shoes came in a close third. Her mother didn’t care about clothes. The Falcon danced through the set, partnering some old man who was probably politically important. Her movements were as easy and graceful as if she were teaching a new recruit to fire a pistol, or mounting a horse to flee the law. As if she belonged in this overheated ballroom as much as she did in the woods, or on the moonlit high road. Arisa could barely walk in her gown, much less dance. And she was trying, whatever the dancing master said. It was just— Another burst of laughter rose from the group around the prince. Louder now, because he was smiling too. Her friend, Weasel, laughed with them. Hang it. She’d been here long enough to claim that she’d “attended” evening court. Arisa turned abruptly, stepped into another set of billowing skirts, and bumped the body beneath them hard enough to make Lady Danica stagger into Lady Ronelle. Arisa also hated all the girls who swarmed around the court, hoping to catch Prince Edoran’s eye. Danica and Ronelle were the worst of them. Still… “I’m sorry,” said Arisa. “I didn’t mean—” “I’m all right.” Danica reached up and patted her hair, making sure her curls were in place—though to Arisa they looked as if they’d been glued there. She was suddenly aware that her hair was slipping out of its pins. Again. Her hands twitched, but Arisa refused to reach up and confirm it. Her thick chestnut hair was the only thing about her that her maid approved of. In a ballroom, Arisa thought that her ordinary face made her look like a weed in a bouque...
