Freeglader (The Edge Chronicles, Book 7; The Rook Trilogy, Book 3)

By Paul Stewart, Chris Riddell

Unique ebook: 2004 in nice Britian through Doubleday


Fleeing from the ruins of latest Undertown, Rook Barkwater and his colleagues—the librarian knights, Felix Lodd and his banderbear friends—must lead the escaping inhabitants to a brand new lifestyles within the unfastened Glades. yet perils aplenty are forward for the crowd—not to say a few goblins with plans in their personal. this can be the dramatic and fascinating end to the Rook Barkwater trilogy that takes the reader on a exciting trip around the Edgeworld.

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Rook wrapped the reins round one hand and gripped his lance tightly. He bent down and whispered to Chinquix. ‘Easy now, lad. ’ His voice quavered. ‘Wait for the command. ’ simply then, Captain Welt's bellowed cry pierced the air. ‘CHARGE!! ’ the complete moon's mirrored image within the glassy floor of the nice Lake slightly rippled as, with the faint sigh of wind on spidersilk, 9 hundred skycraft rose into the air from the good wood platform of Lake touchdown. Silent as moonmoths, their sails billowing, the craft climbed excessive above the black silhouette of the Academy Tower and hovered for a second. Then, as silently as they'd risen, the swarm of skycraft separated into 3 and streaked off around the sky – one to the east, one to the west and one to the south. Xanth Filatine set his nether-sail and swooped down in a large arc around the 300 skycraft of Varis Lodd's squadron. He signalled as he went. preserve in formation, gray Flight … pack up at the correct, eco-friendly Flight … regular, Centre Flight, keep on with the flight-leader's path! The flights – every one 100 skycraft robust – fell into swish arrowhead formations and Varis Lodd as she set a direction for the southern fringes. Xanth checked his hanging-weights and swooped all the way down to subscribe to the chief of the gray Flight, who seemed up with a grin. having a look sturdy, Flight Marshal! Magda signalled. So are you, gray chief, Xanth signalled again. simply maintain shut after we get to the meadowlands. Magda nodded, and Xanth peeled away to circle the squadron back. As he marshalled the stragglers again into formation, the moon seemed from in the back of the rapidly relocating banks of cloud and shone down brightly, glinting at the carved and varnished heads of the person skycraft. To the north, Xanth might see the Professor of Light's squadron, now simply far-off specks, flying low over the farmlands in the direction of New Undertown. To the east, the Professor of Darkness's squadron skirted over the tall, tree-covered bluffs past the woodtroll villages. Xanth checked his gear for the hundredth time because the squadron flew excessive above the waif glen and the glistening lakes, and over the spiky treetops of the ironwood pines. His crossbow used to be within the holster strapped to his leg. It used to be oiled and loaded. The bolts hung from his flight-harness, sixty in each one quiver, thorn-tipped and razor-sharp. His range glowed from the saddle hook to his correct, and the pinesap darts have been strapped to his again besides a gladebirch catapult and a sack of rock-hard ironwood pellets for solid degree. that are meant to do in the mean time, he notion, yet simply in case … He slipped his hand inside of his tunic and felt the deal with of a pointy immediately dagger. He had no goal of being taken alive. It was once quiet up so excessive within the air, clear of the hubbub of Lake touchdown. merely the only thrummed be aware of the wind whistling during the taut string of his crossbow broke the silence – now loud, now gentle – because the wind rose and fell. a way past the Ironwood Glade, at Varis Lodd's sign, the whole squadron bore around and headed west.

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