The Shamer's Daughter (Shamer Chronicles Series #1)
240
The Shamer's Daughter (Shamer Chronicles Series #1)
240Paperback
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Overview
Dina has unwillingly inherited her mother's gift: the ability to elicit shamed confessions simply by looking into someone's eyes. To Dina, however, these powers are not a gift but a curse. Surrounded by fear and hostility, she longs for simple friendship.
But when her mother is called to Dunark Castle to uncover the truth about a bloody triple murder, Dina must come to terms with her power - or let her mother fall prey to the vicious and revolting dragons of Dunark.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781782692256 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Steerforth Press |
| Publication date: | 09/10/2019 |
| Series: | Shamer Chronicles Series , #1 |
| Pages: | 240 |
| Sales rank: | 740,334 |
| Product dimensions: | 5.00(w) x 7.40(h) x 0.80(d) |
| Age Range: | 10 - 14 Years |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
ONE
The Shamer's Brat
Strictly speaking, it wasn't really Cilia's fault that I was bitten by a dragon. It was probably sheer coincidence that she decided to throw a bucket of whey in my face on the very day the man from Dunark came. But every time my arm hurts . . . every time I miss Cherry Tree Cottage and the pear trees and the chickens we h a d . . . I get mad at
Cilia all over again.
Cilia was the miller's daughter, the only girl in a brood of six. Maybe that was the reason why she had become such a pain. Every time Cilia wanted something, a slice of honey-bread, a silk ribbon, perhaps, or a new set of
Prince-and-Dragon markers . .. well, all she had to do was flutter her eyelashes and make her voice all syrupy. Her eyes were periwinkle blue, and she had the most charming dimples when she smiled. Her dad was putty in her hands.
And if anybody teased her or thwarted her in some way, she complained to a couple of her brothers. They had all worked in the mill practically from the time they could walk, and they thought nothing of tossing around sacks of grain as if they were filled with feathers. Nobody liked to cross them,
not even my own brother, Davin, who actually seemed to enjoy a good fight now and then. Most of the time, Cilia was in the habit of getting exactly what she wanted.
Normally, I gave her a very wide berth. But that day had been a bad day from the start. Mama had scolded me for leaving my shawl out by the woodshed the day before, so that it was now soaking wet. I got into a fight with Davin,
and Melli, my four-year-old pest of a little sister, had picked the eyes off my old rag doll. So what if I was much too old to be playing with dolls—Nana was my doll, and Melli had taken her without even asking. I was so mad and so fed up with the whole family that I couldn't stay in the house with them. I stood for a while in the barn and shared my woes with Blaze, our brown mare, who had the sweetest of tempers and was very patient with most human beings. But then Davin led her out to graze among the pear trees in the orchard, and the barn became lonely and boring. I knew that if my mother caught sight of me, it would not take her long to find some task for me; she was of the opinion that work is the best cure for the sulks. Without really thinking about it, I set off down the road toward the village.
Birches is not a big town, but we do have a smithy, an inn, and the mill, run by Cilia's parents, not to mention eleven different houses and farms of varying sizes. And then there are the places like Cherry Tree Cottage, some distance from the village yet somehow still a part of it. In almost all the houses were families, and almost all the families had children, some of them as many as eight or ten. You would think, with so many to choose from, that it would be possible for me to find a friend or two, or at least some playmates. But no. Not me. Not the Shamer's daughter. Two years ago I could still sometimes play with
Sasia from the inn. But then it became more and more difficult for her to look me in the eyes, and after that, things became kind of difficult. Now she avoided me completely,
just like everyone else.
So, having walked about a mile through mud and gusty winds to reach the village, I had no idea what to do there. I rarely went there anymore, except to run a few errands for Mama; and I ended up standing indecisively in the village square, trying to look as if I had merely stopped for a minute to catch my breath. Janos Tinker went by with his handcart, waving at me but not quite looking. At the smithy Rikert was shoeing the miller's gray gelding. He called my name and wished me a good afternoon,
but stayed bent over his work the whole time. And then big fat drops of rain started to spatter the gravel, and
I could no longer pretend to be basking in the sun. I
headed for the inn, possibly just out of habit. The main room was nearly empty; a lone guest was having a meal, a big bear of a highlander, from up the Skayler range. Probably he had taken summer work as a caravan guard and was on his way home now. He cast a quick and curious glance my way, but even without knowing me, he instinctively looked away, avoiding my eyes.
Behind the counter. Sasia's mother was wiping glasses.
"Hello, Dina," she said politely, her eyes strictly on the glass she was polishing. "What can we do for you?"
What would she do if I said, Look at me? But I didn't, of course. "Is Sasia in?" I asked instead.
What People are Saying About This
I gobbled it up. —Tamora Pierce, author of 'The Song of the Lioness'
Tremendous novel... Dragons, murder, treachery and highly tropical thrills. — Amanda Craig, author of The Lie of the Land