In the Serpent’s Wake Hardcover – February 1, 2022 by Rachel Hartman

Description

Author: Hartman Rachel

Color: Multicolor

Package Dimensions: 33x232x789

Number Of Pages: 512

Release Date: 01-02-2022

Details: Product Description

From the critically acclaimed and bestselling author of Seraphina comes a piercing new fantasy adventure that champions our resilience and humility.

MIND OF THE WORLD,

OPEN YOUR EYES.

At the bottom of the world lies a Serpent, the last of its kind.
Finding the Serpent will change lives.

Tess is a girl on a mission to save a friend.

Spira is a dragon seeking a new identity.

Marga is a woman staking her claim on a man’s world.

Jacomo is a priest searching for his soul.

There are those who would give their lives to keep it hidden.
And those who would destroy it.

But the only people who will truly find the Serpent are those who have awakened to the world around them—with eyes open to the wondrous, the terrible, and the just.

Discover more critically-acclaimed YA from Rachel Hartman!

Seraphina

Shadow Scale

Tess of the Road

About the Author

RACHEL HARTMAN is the author of the acclaimed and
New York Times bestselling YA fantasy novel
Seraphina, which won the William C. Morris YA debut Award in 2013, and the
New York Times bestselling sequel
Shadow Scale and
Tess of the Road. Rachel lives with her family in Vancouver, Canada. In her free time, she sings madrigals, walks her whippet in the rain, and is learning to fence. To learn more, please visit SeraphinaBooks.com or RachelHartmanBooks.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Remember, Worthy One:
The world knew nothing at first. Then it gave birth to plants, who noticed what sunlight tasted like, and worms, who reveled in the luxuriant touch of soil. Soon the world’s bright birds were perceiving the color of sound, its playful quigutl discerned the shapes of smells, and myriad eyes of every kind discovered sight and saw differently.
Behind these senses were minds—­so many! The world was too vast to fit into just one mind; it needed millions of them to consider itself from every possible angle.
The difficulty with minds is that each perceives itself as a separate thing, alone. And so the minds spin stories to bridge the gaps between them, like a spider’s web. There are a million stories, and yet they are all one.
But come, Mind of the World. Open your eyes.
We have teased apart one filament, which might be a beginning.
#
Once upon a time (the world always starts with time), a dragon scholar climbed the stairs of an inn in the bustling port city of Mardou.
There were fifty-­six stairs. It only felt like twice as many as yesterday.
The dragon was in human form, a saarantras; they wouldn’t have fit in the stairwell otherwise. They paused on each landing, leaning on a hooked cane. Dragons shouldn’t feel irritated or bitter, but Scholar Spira was usually in enough pain to feel a bit of both.
Today their irritation was directed at Professor the dragon Ondir, who seemed determined to meddle endlessly with Spira’s expedition. Their bitterness was for their knees, which gritted and stabbed with every step as if they were full of broken glass.
At the top of the stairs, muffled voices were audible behind the professor’s door. Spira couldn’t discern the words, but a sniff at the doorknob answered their most pertinent question. The person they’d come to complain about—­the person Ondir had foisted onto Spira at the last minute, whose hundred barrels of pyria were even now being loaded onto the Sweet Jessia—­had arrived before them. This was going to be awkward.
Spira feared no awkwardness, however. Spira was born awkward.
They flung wide the door without knocking.
“Enter,” said Professor the dragon Ondir, rather too late.
The room was large and well appointed, with a view of the sea. A four-­poster bed loomed at the end, curtains drawn (like a market stall, Spira thought). The right wall was dominated by windows, the left by a broad, roaring hearth.
Ondir, whose chair faced the door, was tall and gaunt like a proper saarantras (and utterly unlike Spira). His guest, facing him, looked to be much shorter. Spira could see only t