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E-BookEPUBePub WasserzeichenE-Book
550 Seiten
Englisch
Arctis USerschienen am14.11.2023
Fantasy, crime, and Norse gods come together when it emerges that a series of bestial murders is connected with an ancient prophecy about the end of the world. Anna can see events from the past, and one night she glimpses an old and horrible murder: a red-haired girl is killed and a rune carved into her back. Shortly afterward, someone begins killing red-haired girls in the same manner, and the rune is found on all of them. Suddenly the little town is full of strangers. They have mysterious powers, and are drawn to Anna, who isn't used to being near other people. Several of the strangers want to help her, but it takes a long time before she knows which of them she can trust. Playing on such classic themes as good versus evil, the book is at once a fantasy, a thriller, and a coming-of-age story.

Malene Sølvsten made her debut in 2016 with the first volume of the fantasy trilogy 'Whisper of the Ravens' and was nominated for the Readers' Book Prize (Læsernes Bogpris) in the same year. The series quickly became a surprise success and bestseller in Denmark, for which the author received the Edvard Prisen, awarded annually by the Danish Library Association, in 2018. An economist by training, she lives with her family in Copenhagen, where she now works as a full-time author.mehr
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E-BookEPUBePub WasserzeichenE-Book
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Produkt

KlappentextFantasy, crime, and Norse gods come together when it emerges that a series of bestial murders is connected with an ancient prophecy about the end of the world. Anna can see events from the past, and one night she glimpses an old and horrible murder: a red-haired girl is killed and a rune carved into her back. Shortly afterward, someone begins killing red-haired girls in the same manner, and the rune is found on all of them. Suddenly the little town is full of strangers. They have mysterious powers, and are drawn to Anna, who isn't used to being near other people. Several of the strangers want to help her, but it takes a long time before she knows which of them she can trust. Playing on such classic themes as good versus evil, the book is at once a fantasy, a thriller, and a coming-of-age story.

Malene Sølvsten made her debut in 2016 with the first volume of the fantasy trilogy 'Whisper of the Ravens' and was nominated for the Readers' Book Prize (Læsernes Bogpris) in the same year. The series quickly became a surprise success and bestseller in Denmark, for which the author received the Edvard Prisen, awarded annually by the Danish Library Association, in 2018. An economist by training, she lives with her family in Copenhagen, where she now works as a full-time author.
Details
Weitere ISBN/GTIN9781646906239
ProduktartE-Book
EinbandartE-Book
FormatEPUB
Format HinweisePub Wasserzeichen
FormatE101
Verlag
Erscheinungsjahr2023
Erscheinungsdatum14.11.2023
ReiheWhisper of the Ravens
Reihen-Nr.1
Seiten550 Seiten
SpracheEnglisch
Dateigrösse2093 Kbytes
Artikel-Nr.12814205
Rubriken
Genre9201
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Inhalt/Kritik

Leseprobe

Chapter 1

Monster pushed me with his snout. He didn t put his whole weight into it, but still, each shove nearly rolled me over onto my stomach. Standing on all fours by the side of my bed, he looked down at me, which should say something about his size.

When people ask what breed my dog is, I usually say he s an Irish Wolfhound mix. What I don t say is that he s definitively not mine-he s very much his own-and I suspect he s only 0.001% Irish Wolfhound, the rest of him a combination of grizzly bear and mammoth. I tend to keep that part to myself.

Was I screaming in my sleep, Monster? I stroked his large head with a limp hand.

He nodded.

No, I corrected myself. Obviously, dogs do not nod.

The August morning sun was bursting through the window, and the clock read 7:30 a.m. Oh no! It was half an hour before I had to show up to my first day of high school.

Here in Denmark, high school lasts for three years, starting at the age of sixteen or seventeen. If my elementary and middle school years were any indication, this was not going to be easy.

I straightened my back, let out a deep breath, and dug around in my closet for a pair of black jeans and a black hoodie.

Monster placed his paw on the chair where I had laid out a yellow T-shirt, so that, for once, I would not greet the world dressed entirely in black. He tilted his head.

I can t do it after all, I told him.

He sighed. This dog seemed to have a very un-dog-like interest in my clothes. And perhaps I assigned him some qualities he could not possibly possess.

Another day, I promised as I got dressed. Then I lay down on the floor and started doing push-ups. I did only fifty because I was in a hurry.

We shuffled the few steps to the kitchen. Everything but the toilet and shower were in the same room. I opened a package of chocolate cookies and held one out to Monster. He gave it a resigned look but, with a crunch, began to chew.

I also took a bite, but then put the cookie down. My stomach was already in knots. Instead, I went into the bathroom.

As always, my reflection seemed just a bit foreign. The girl looking back at me had raven-black hair; milk-white skin; large, slightly protruding blue-green eyes; a long, pointed nose; and strong, dark eyebrows-a scar running through one of them.

I have not been lucky with my looks. Or much else.

Out of habit, I let my finger glide along the long, twisted scar that runs from the middle of my chest down between my breasts, ending just above my navel. I have no idea where it came from. The one in my eyebrow, however, I have no doubts about.

Using black eyeliner and mascara, I camouflaged my ugly features. Then I stomped out of the bathroom. With my bag in hand, I shouted to Monster: Are you coming?

Monster ran alongside my bike the whole way to the high school, but I did not know what he would do while I endured the day inside. When I parked, he kept running toward Kraghede Forest, the edge of which stretches along the high school s soccer fields. I watched him and wondered, as always, if it would be the last time I saw him. At the start of the forest, he turned around and gave a loud bark before running off between the trees.

 

Ravensted High School resembles a handful of gigantic reddish-brown LEGO blocks assembled haphazardly by a giant child. On one side of the high school sits one of the city s two elementary schools. I attended both briefly. On the other side sits Kraghede Forest. I once saw a map of the city and thought that, from above, the forest resembles an arm hugging Ravensted in a semicircle. The forest s broad forearm encircles the city to the east, thins out over the northern part, and ends in a finger pointing accusingly toward the west. After this, there is nothing but the boglands of Store Vildmose, ghost towns, and vacation homes, until you hit the west coast and the town of Jagd.

 

Inside the school, I studied the letter containing practical information and enthusiastic words of welcome that the school had sent.

People gave me a wide berth-aside from the one person whose shoulder bumped painfully into mine. I wasn t sure if it was intentional or if she simply didn t notice me. The few who looked in my direction turned up their noses at my black outfit and dark makeup. Or maybe they were simply turning up their noses at me in general.

I retreated against the wall and tried to ignore the other students. The first thing I needed to do was find Orange Hall, room 20.

After walking a short distance, glancing at the map I d been given, I found out why it was called Orange Hall. Good God. Never in the history of orange had the color been misused to such an extent. The walls, doors, and ceiling were painted in varying shades of the color. Even the acrylic carpeting was tangerine. The pictures that hung on the walls had clearly been selected from the same color spectrum. Someone had taped a piece of paper to the door of room 2O that said, in a variety of colors, Welcome 1B. The last thing this aesthetically challenged hallway needed was more bright hues.

I entered the room, which, to my surprise, was half-empty. Even though I had overslept, I managed to arrive with ten minutes to spare. The few people in the room put their heads together, whispering, without saying hello.

Welcome to high school.

The tables were arranged in a horseshoe shape, and I chose a seat at the one with the greatest number of empty chairs. Feeling my chest tightening, I sat on the edge of the chair and kept my eyes on my hands, which were curled into fists on the table.

As the room gradually filled, I could feel the past pressing in. Or rather, the pasts.

I can feel a little from almost everyone. Some more than others. There are very few whose pasts I cannot see at all. For instance, my only friend, Arthur. I can often sense a person s feelings with only a one-second delay, and I can feel most people s basic mood. Meaning, the dominant feelings in their life. You could call them auras, although I don t see rainbows around people. From some, I also get images that resemble little movies. I can bring up flashes from a person s past if I touch them, so I avoid that, or if they touch me, which they pretty much always do.

Little Mads sat down across from me and didn t talk to anyone, either. We d both had a hard time in class the year I lived in Vringelby, but we never joined forces. From a distance, I had witnessed his painful transition from tall child to tall teenager. His growth had clearly not stopped after I left Vringelby Village School a little over three years ago, and with a height well over six-foot-five, he was the bearer of the region s most ironic nickname. Nicknames are like a sport up here. There s not much else to do. I ve been given my fair share, too. Psycho is the one that stuck.

Peter walked in, and at once my entire body was ready to fight. The boy who had taught me to fight-let s just say as a sparring partner-had become a young man, but his eyes were the same. Malicious and combative. Or maybe that was just when he was looking at me.

I remembered the time he and two other boys chased me through Kraghede Forest.

Being unable to run away from him and his mob had cost me a split eyebrow, four sprained ribs, and a whole lot of pride.

I looked at his somewhat flattened nose, which ruined an otherwise attractive face. He hadn t been so tough when I first took the bat from him that day, around three years after the attack in the forest. It was stupid of him to go after me alone. Now I caught his eye and rubbed the straight bridge of my own nose. Imagine, he beats me up and bullies me for years, and I smash his nose with a bat one time, and I m the one who ends up in juvenile detention.

Peter held my gaze and tapped a finger over his eye in the place where the scar shone through my brow.

I vaguely knew others in the room. Mina Ostergaard came gliding in aristocratically. I also saw Niller, Suzuki, Johnny-Bum from Rakkeby, and Alice with the long red hair. I remembered Alice as a quiet girl from the half year I had class with her in North Lyngby. She had never spoken to me or bothered me. I appreciated both facts.

The seats filled up, but the ones on my side of the table were the least popular. In the end, only two empty spots were left.

Exactly.

A chubby boy stuck his head in the doorway and looked around for a free seat. He took a couple of hesitant steps in the direction of the empty chairs on either side of me.

Thomas, you can sit here, a blond girl offered.

The relief in his face was palpable as he trudged over to his savior and sat at the corner of the horseshoe, uncomfortably straddling a table leg.

My eyes downcast, I resisted the urge to bang my head on the table.

Can I sit here? asked a melodic voice.

I looked up and into a pair of shining blue eyes surrounded by long lashes in the most perfect face I had ever seen. The nose was straight, and the eyes were deep-set above high cheekbones. The lips were shapely and full, the teeth pearly white, and the face surrounded by golden hair. This was, without compare, the most beautiful boy I d ever seen in my life.

He smiled, but he could have just as well planted a fist in my solar plexus. I thought I heard a synchronized sigh from every girl in the room.

I realized he was still looking at me expectantly, so I gave a brief nod toward the chair.

I m Mathias. I...
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Autor

Malene Sølvsten made her debut in 2016 with the first volume of the fantasy trilogy 'Whisper of the Ravens' and was nominated for the Readers' Book Prize (Læsernes Bogpris) in the same year. The series quickly became a surprise success and bestseller in Denmark, for which the author received the Edvard Prisen, awarded annually by the Danish Library Association, in 2018. An economist by training, she lives with her family in Copenhagen, where she now works as a full-time author.
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