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Tourmaline and the Museum of Marvels

E-BookEPUBePub WasserzeichenE-Book
Englisch
Little Tiger Presserschienen am14.03.2024
Ever since she fell into the Source of all magic, Tourmaline seems to have developed strange new powers that are causing chaos. She can't work out how to control them and it's exhausting hiding them from everyone (except her best friends George and Mai). Then Tourmaline receives a mysterious postcard, promising her solutions and sending her on quests to amazing places. But who has sent Tourmaline the card? And will the adventure be worth the price for answers? The second book in a fun, feminist fantasy adventure series, with a protagonist that flies off the page and into readers' imaginations. Perfect for fans of Katherine Rundell, Vashti Hardy and Abi Elphinstone

Ruth Lauren has been a teacher and worked in lots of different offices, but she likes writing best, as well as walking in the woods, cheese, orchids, going to the movies, and reading as many books as she can. She is the author of Prisoner of Ice and Snow and its sequel Seeker of the Crown and currently lives in a Victorian house in the West Midlands in England with her partner and a lot of children and cats.mehr
Verfügbare Formate
TaschenbuchKartoniert, Paperback
EUR10,50
E-BookEPUBePub WasserzeichenE-Book
EUR9,59

Produkt

KlappentextEver since she fell into the Source of all magic, Tourmaline seems to have developed strange new powers that are causing chaos. She can't work out how to control them and it's exhausting hiding them from everyone (except her best friends George and Mai). Then Tourmaline receives a mysterious postcard, promising her solutions and sending her on quests to amazing places. But who has sent Tourmaline the card? And will the adventure be worth the price for answers? The second book in a fun, feminist fantasy adventure series, with a protagonist that flies off the page and into readers' imaginations. Perfect for fans of Katherine Rundell, Vashti Hardy and Abi Elphinstone

Ruth Lauren has been a teacher and worked in lots of different offices, but she likes writing best, as well as walking in the woods, cheese, orchids, going to the movies, and reading as many books as she can. She is the author of Prisoner of Ice and Snow and its sequel Seeker of the Crown and currently lives in a Victorian house in the West Midlands in England with her partner and a lot of children and cats.
Details
Weitere ISBN/GTIN9781788955959
ProduktartE-Book
EinbandartE-Book
FormatEPUB
Format HinweisePub Wasserzeichen
FormatE101
Erscheinungsjahr2024
Erscheinungsdatum14.03.2024
ReiheTourmaline
Reihen-Nr.2
SpracheEnglisch
Dateigrösse3851 Kbytes
Artikel-Nr.14705946
Rubriken
Genre9201

Inhalt/Kritik

Leseprobe



A magical postcard? Let me see it again, said Mai. Tourmaline had muddled her way through a morning of lessons, none of which she could have told anyone the faintest thing about had they asked. Now she, George and Mai were skipping lunch and heading towards the Living Archive.

George, who had regrets about lunch and was certain there would be more regrets to come once they´d entered the Living Archive, said, You can see the postcard at the same time as the Living Archive. That way maybe we can fit in something to eat.

The girls, walking on either side of him, exchanged a glance.

Sorry, said George. I´m hungry.

Tourmaline patted her pockets. Finding she didn´t have any snacks to give him, she patted George´s arm sympathetically instead.

They walked around a mystifying pile of rubble that seemed to have pushed up from underground somehow. Great blocks of the university´s foundations had been dislodged and burst upwards.

George and Mai looked at Tourmaline, wide-eyed. Tourmaline shrugged. She didn´t have any answers.

As they reached the great, carved doors to the Archive, George slowed.

Tourmaline, who had been expecting this, said, I promise I won´t touch the pond. I won´t even stand near it. And then, when George actually stopped, I won´t even look at it.

We shouldn´t even know about this place, he said.

But we do, said Mai. So there´s no point pretending we don´t and there´s no point not using it, especially as we´ve come to ask about magic. It´s not like we can ask my mother, is it?

Tourmaline nodded appreciatively. That was logic even George couldn´t argue with. The Living Archive was far preferable to the AICMA ever getting suspicious.

George sighed, and then sighed again more loudly as though the first time hadn´t worked.

OK, he said. I´m ready now.

Which was when the doors opened, before any of them reached for the great handle.

Mai hopped back as the mass of carved insects on the doors swung towards them, and the Living Archive who had opened the door glared at them. Are you going to stand there all day wasting everyone´s time?

Tourmaline was almost reassured by the tiny old woman´s familiarly terrifying manner until a mass of vines slithered like snakes over the doorframe, clamouring to be let out into the dim corridor.

She took a step back and peered beyond the woman into the cavernous depths of the Archive.

It had been a strange place the first time they had visited, when the pond was working its mysterious magic on the university above and the books had been imbued with the power of the Source. Now, though, it was more than strange.

An eerie wind blew from inside and Tourmaline shivered.

If you´re coming in, hurry up and shut the door. The woman´s robes let out a puff of dust as she turned on her heel and stumped off into the Archive. The children looked at each other, then ducked under the grasping vines, stepping on to the soft ground, which was now overgrown with moss and twining ivy that reached for their ankles.

Please wait, Tourmaline called after the woman. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. An odd, crackling feeling was making the hairs there behave strangely.

Let me guess, said the Living Archive, spinning round and swatting at a tendril that reached out at her from a nearby bookshelf. You just want to ask a few questions? As if I have time for that. She waved her arms at the general state of the Archive.

The Living Archive made it sound as though answering questions was the most troublesome thing in the world. But, Tourmaline reasoned with herself, that was always the case with the woman. So she pressed on.

Yes, we have several questions. And a postcard.

The Living Archive started loading books on to a nearby trolley. She was reaching into the shelves, fishing around, darting forwards as though she really were trying to catch an elusive fish, and then pulling them out one by one.

What´s happening to the Archive? asked George. Several other Living Archives he could see were also trying to capture the books.

I would have thought that was obvious, said the Living Archive. We are moving out. The last of the pond is about to disappear into the foundations and the effects are becoming a little ... unmanageable. She said the word darkly and as though it didn´t really cover what was happening, but she didn´t have time to explain this to children. She gave George a particularly withering glare and Tourmaline squeezed his elbow.

So you´re moving all the books? asked Mai, who was undaunted by the odd glare or two. Where will you take them?

To the library upstairs, of course, said the Living Archive. They´ll probably settle down once they´re situated. She glared at the children again. Although who knows how this will all end now. Are there very many students left?

There had been several incidents at the university since they´d come back from Elsewhere. An entire botany class had been attacked by the ferns they were supposed to be dissecting and some art students had permanently purple hands due to some unruly ink, among other things. The result had been that a large number of students had gone off to study somewhere less difficult and a lot of professors had followed them for the sake of their nerves.

Tourmaline was sure she was personally responsible for at least half of the disasters that had befallen the various departments so far. Until now, she´d been quite grateful that she could blame it all on the breakdown in the university´s magic and stop anyone finding out about her own magic. Looking at the Archive, though, she was thinking that the problems at Pellavere stretched far beyond Tourmaline Grey´s personal troubles.

What will happen to Pellavere without the pond? she asked. She was thinking of her own insistence that the Source be left on the island of Elsewhere instead of being used to replenish the pond. But what else could she have done? It was clear that the island wanted to protect the Source and that it wasn´t there for people to steal and use as they saw fit. That much was obvious from how Elsewhere had trapped Persephone with one of its many defences.

But not taking some of the Source and bringing it back to the university had caused problems too. Tourmaline grappled briefly with the idea that her decision might have been a good one for the island but a bad one for the university, and that possibly decisions weren´t all good or all bad, but something in between sometimes.

What happens to Pellavere is for Dean Gramercy to worry about and none of my concern, said the Living Archive. Now, what do you want? And make it quick. I don´t have all day, do I?

At that moment a tree/bookshelf let out an ominous creaking groan and leaned alarmingly to one side, ejecting one book and entirely hiding another.

George huddled closer to Mai. Tourmaline hastily pulled out the postcard and thrust it at the woman, who looked at it as though it were a used handkerchief.

Someone sent this to me, she said. I think it might be a magical artefact. But what I really need is to find out what the rhyme means.

She took a breath and waved the postcard.

The Living Archive got out her eyeglass, took the postcard gingerly, sniffed it, turned it over, read it, and then gave it back.

The children waited.

Tourmaline cleared her throat.

The Living Archive cleared hers louder. You need to heed the message, she said.

Thank you. But what is it? asked Tourmaline.

The Living Archive rolled her eyes. It´s a postcard, she said.

I know that, said Tourmaline, in what she thought was quite a patient voice. But what does it mean? The picture on the front changed but it won´t do it again so I think it´s a magical artefact that´s stopped working. And how are we supposed to heed the message on the back if we don´t understand it?

Meet me at the market, I´ll talk to only you, Find me when it´s darkest, If you want to learn the truth, said George,...

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Autor

Ruth Lauren has been a teacher and worked in lots of different offices, but she likes writing best, as well as walking in the woods, cheese, orchids, going to the movies, and reading as many books as she can. She is the author of Prisoner of Ice and Snow and its sequel Seeker of the Crown and currently lives in a Victorian house in the West Midlands in England with her partner and a lot of children and cats.