Son of a Witch (The Wicked Years, Book 2)
Gregory Maguire
Language: English
Pages: 283
ISBN: 0061714739
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Corrected version of torrent & filename
The long-anticipated sequel to the million-copy bestselling novel Wicked.
Ten years after the publication of Wicked, beloved novelist Gregory Maguire returns at last to the land of Oz. There he introduces us to Liir, an adolescent boy last seen hiding in the shadows of the castle after Dorothy did in the Witch. Bruised, comatose, and left for dead in a gully, Liir is shattered in spirit as well as in form. But he is tended at the Cloister of Saint Glinda by the silent novice called Candle, who wills him back to life with her musical gifts.
What dark force left Liir in this condition? Is he really Elphaba's son? He has her broom and her cape -- but what of her powers? Can he find his supposed half-sister, Nor, last seen in the forbidding prison, Southstairs? Can he fulfill the last wishes of a dying princess? In an Oz that, since the Wizard's departure, is under new and dangerous management, can Liir keep his head down long enough to grow up?
For the countless fans who have been dazzled and entranced by Maguire's Oz, Son of a Witch is the rich reward they have awaited so long.
Oatsie didn’t listen. She yanked the reins of her team of horses, to halt them, and she lowered herself gingerly. She stumped, her hand on her sore hip, until she stood a few feet over the body. Face down and genitals hidden, he appeared to have been a young man. A few scraps of fabric were still knotted about his waist, and a boot some yards distant, but he was otherwise naked, and no sign of his clothes. Curious: no evidence of the assassins. Neither had there been about the bodies of the
clump of mountain arbor to shelter beneath. So rather than sit in the mud and let the rain wick through their undergarments, they trudged on. Their confidence about their course ebbed, though, what with the shrouding of hilltops—all landmarks wiped out of view. “Liir, I have no confidence in your sense of direction,” said the Tin Woodman, politely. “Nick Chopper! You’re heartless!” said Dorothy. “Ha bloody ha. And you’re an orphan,” he replied. “I’ll rust in this downpour. Does anyone think
was true—the girl who befriended mice, and shared her gingerbread, and who had giggled at bedtime, even when threatened by a spanking. He would liberate Nor, and then—and then— He couldn’t think beyond that. Just to see her, someone he had known once, back when the world had been something other than tragic, back when Elphaba had been stalking about the castle out west in her robes and rages! Back when home was still home! Jibbidee skittered forward, back, anxious and irritable. “What, what’s
perhaps also because she had admired Nor a little, in her own way—to the extent Elphaba could admire any child. Nor had had spunk. He turned his head to avoid any more of that kind of thinking. The light from the window worked a glint upon a kind of bowl of glass. A ball, really. He rubbed the dust from it; it played like a bright spatter of sunlit rain as he cleaned it. He found a low stool with five legs, each carved with its own representative foot: a dwarf, an elf, a human, a bird, and an
sweetness. “With all I seemed to relive in my dead sleep, there’s a lot I can’t remember,” he said at last. “Do you remember what happened to your broom?” “I suspect it fell to the ground. I’m not sure. Or maybe the dragons took it, though why they’d bother I can’t imagine.” She didn’t press him further. It was Liir who did the asking. “Why did you take me away from there? Why did that one you called Mother Yackle lock us in the tower together, and release us when she did? What did she say to