The Riddle

Author:   Alison Croggon
Publisher:   Candlewick Press,U.S.
Volume:   02
ISBN:  

9780763634148


Pages:   490
Publication Date:   01 July 2007
Recommended Age:   From 12 years
Format:   Paperback
Availability:   In Print   Availability explained
This item will be ordered in for you from one of our suppliers. Upon receipt, we will promptly dispatch it out to you. For in store availability, please contact us.

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The Riddle


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Overview

Maerad is a girl with a tragic and bitter past, but her powers grow stronger by the day. Now she and her mentor, Cadvan, pursued by both the Light and the Dark, are seeking the Riddle of the Treesong - the key to restoring peace in the ravaged kingdom. But is Maerad herself the greatest riddle of them all? Maerad's epic quest continues as she travels from terrifying seas to vast stretches of glacial wilderness, drawn ever closer to her enemy the Winterking - the strongest ally of the Nameless One and the greatest tyrant of them all.

Full Product Details

Author:   Alison Croggon
Publisher:   Candlewick Press,U.S.
Imprint:   Candlewick Press,U.S.
Volume:   02
Dimensions:   Width: 14.10cm , Height: 3.60cm , Length: 20.40cm
Weight:   0.540kg
ISBN:  

9780763634148


ISBN 10:   076363414
Pages:   490
Publication Date:   01 July 2007
Recommended Age:   From 12 years
Audience:   Young adult ,  Teenage / Young adult
Format:   Paperback
Publisher's Status:   Active
Availability:   In Print   Availability explained
This item will be ordered in for you from one of our suppliers. Upon receipt, we will promptly dispatch it out to you. For in store availability, please contact us.

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I live, said Arkan with a peculiar arrogance as they walked. And I do not die. The wind lives, the snow lives, the ice lives, the mountains live. Rick and ice have their own voices, their own lives, their own breath, their own pulse. Do you deny them that? <br><br> No, said Maerad, unable to conceal the sadness in her voice. But I like flowers. <br><br> I will make you flowers if you desire them. <br><br> They would be flowers of ice. Beautiful, but cold. It wouldn't be the same. But thank you. <br><br>They walked in silence for a time through the endless, beautiful corridors, and despite herself Maerad found she was admiring the beauties of Arkan-da with different eyes. The design of the pillars had changed subtly, she thought; she saw flowers within them, all with six petals, but infinitely various and intricate. She was always conscious of the man pacing beside her, although she did not look at him.<br><br> Why do you wish to please me? she asked, breaking the silence. You could just as easily cast me into some dark dungeon. What difference would it make to you? <br><br> It is better if you do not hate or fear me, said Arkan. Song cannot be made out of hatred and fear. That is what Sharma failed to understand. <br><br> What is needed to make Song, then? <br><br>Arkan turned and looked her full in the face, and Maerad's heart skipped a beat. Do you not know? he asked.<br><br>Maerad looked down at the floor and watched her feet. She did not want to answer.<br>_________<br><br>THE RIDDLE by Alison Croggon. Copyright (c) 2006 by Alison Croggon. Published by Candlewick Press, Inc., Cambridge, MA.


I live, said Arkan with a peculiar arrogance as they walked. And I do not die. The wind lives, the snow lives, the ice lives, the mountains live. Rick and ice have their own voices, their own lives, their own breath, their own pulse. Do you deny them that? No, said Maerad, unable to conceal the sadness in her voice. But I like flowers. I will make you flowers if you desire them. They would be flowers of ice. Beautiful, but cold. It wouldn't be the same. But thank you. They walked in silence for a time through the endless, beautiful corridors, and despite herself Maerad found she was admiring the beauties of Arkan-da with different eyes. The design of the pillars had changed subtly, she thought; she saw flowers within them, all with six petals, but infinitely various and intricate. She was always conscious of the man pacing beside her, although she did not look at him. Why do you wish to please me? she asked, breaking the silence. You could just as easily cast me into some dark dungeon. What difference would it make to you? It is better if you do not hate or fear me, said Arkan. Song cannot be made out of hatred and fear. That is what Sharma failed to understand. What is needed to make Song, then? Arkan turned and looked her full in the face, and Maerad's heart skipped a beat. Do you not know? he asked. Maerad looked down at the floor and watched her feet. She did not want to answer._________ THE RIDDLE by Alison Croggon. Copyright (c) 2006 by Alison Croggon. Published by Candlewick Press, Inc., Cambridge, MA.


I live, said Arkan with a peculiar arrogance as they walked. And I do not die. The wind lives, the snow lives, the ice lives, the mountains live. Rick and ice have their own voices, their own lives, their own breath, their own pulse. Do you deny them that? <br> No, said Maerad, unable to conceal the sadness in her voice. But I like flowers. <br> I will make you flowers if you desire them. <br> They would be flowers of ice. Beautiful, but cold. It wouldn't be the same. But thank you. <br>They walked in silence for a time through the endless, beautiful corridors, and despite herself Maerad found she was admiring the beauties of Arkan-da with different eyes. The design of the pillars had changed subtly, she thought; she saw flowers within them, all with six petals, but infinitely various and intricate. She was always conscious of the man pacing beside her, although she did not look at him. <br> Why do you wish to please me? she asked, breaking the silence. You could just as easily cast me into some dark dungeon. What difference would it make to you? <br> It is better if you do not hate or fear me, said Arkan. Song cannot be made out of hatred and fear. That is what Sharma failed to understand. <br> What is needed to make Song, then? <br>Arkan turned and looked her full in the face, and Maerad's heart skipped a beat. Do you not know? he asked. <br>Maerad looked down at the floor and watched her feet. She did not want to answer.<br>_________ <br>THE RIDDLE by Alison Croggon. Copyright (c) 2006 by Alison Croggon. Published by Candlewick Press, Inc., Cambridge, MA.


Author Information

Alison Croggon is an award-winning poet whose work has been published around the globe. She started to write the books of Pellinor when her oldest son, Josh, began to read fantasy, and is currently working on the third and fourth books of the quartet. She lives in Australia.

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