Trickster's Choice (Daughter of the Lioness, Book 1)
Tamora Pierce
Language: English
Pages: 448
ISBN: 0375828796
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Tamora Pierce brings readers another Tortall adventure! Alianne is the teenage daughter of the famed Alanna, the first lady knight in Tortall. Young Aly follows in the quieter footsteps of her father, however, delighting in the art of spying. When she is captured and sold as a slave to an exiled royal family in the faraway Copper Islands, it is this skill that makes a difference in a world filled with political intrigue, murderous conspiracy, and warring gods. This is the first of two books featuring Alianne.
From the Hardcover edition.
tumbled off her horse’s back and raced inside to alert the duchess. Sarai ordered Veron to find the duke. Aly slipped off Cinnamon and took the three mounts to Lokeij and his stable boys. “You know what the luarin say, don’t you?” Lokeij murmured as he watched the messenger unbuckle the straps that held her to her mare. “Deadly news rides horses that fly.” Aly sighed. “If only the Rittevons use them as messengers, I can see how people might think that.” “The custom is an old one, from the time
around their anchorage, a small cove on Kypriang’s lush western shore. The night, warm and damp, folded around her like a blanket. With her magical vision she didn’t need light to see the raka, standing or seated on rocks that overlooked the cove. It seemed they required no light, either. Lamps burned only aboard the trio of ships that rocked on the gentle waters. The moon had just begun to show its rim over the mountains that formed Kypriang Isle’s spine. “They’re our people, too.”
Papa says.” Dove didn’t even look at her stepmother. Aly knew Winnamine was right. It seemed that she could start to cover her part of Kyprioth’s wager here and now. “My ladies, my apologies, but this scares me,” she whispered, the picture of an alarmed slave. “I’ve not been here long, but, well, back home there’s stories of your king. This could get your house and those raka in trouble with him. We’d all pay for that, in blood, most like.” Sarai glanced at Aly, confused. Aly looked at her and
One, she’s a royal spy,” Chenaol snapped. “Too curious by half, sticking her nose in everywhere . . .” “She is our spy, not the Crown’s,” Kyprioth informed the cook. “Imported for your purposes with not a little trouble on my part, I might add. I’ll take that.” The knife vanished from the cook’s hand to reappear in front of the god’s light-shape. Aly glared at him. “I was handling this,” she informed Kyprioth. “I didn’t need you.” “Yes, but you’re so careful about asking around that our wager
moment to memorize the faces of the three dead men—assassins often came in families—before she went inside. There she sighed. The wide, pretty chamber was a shambles. Multicolored raka hangings, embroidered cushions, tapestry frames, pillows, comforters, bolsters, and curtains from the main bed, all were hacked and covered in goose feathers speckled with blood. Four assassins lay sprawled on the floor, weapons still in their hands. The fifth knelt beside the door between two impassive raka. His