Giant's Lair: The Sorcerer's Tower, #2

By Ian Irvine

Over a million copies of Ian Irvine's fantasy novels sold.

Evil does not die. It merely sleeps – awakening when we least expect it.

Meadowhythe is again in danger – evil magical forces are growing stronger every day. Giants, flesh-eating birds and powerful sorcerers lie in wait for Tamly, Kym and Mel.

And this time they may not win.

Fantastically illustrated by DM Cornish.

Reviews and Honours for The Sorcerer's Tower

Shortlisted for the 2008 Aurealis Award, Best Children's Series

"A new series by two of Australia's best. It has all the things that turn reluctant readers into avaricious readers – fast moving plot, big gribbly monsters and really cool illustrations." Reading Time

"A thrilling bedtime chapter book for parents to read to children five years and older." The Courier Mail on Thorn Castle

"Fast moving fantasy adventure, brought to life by Cornish's distinctive illustrations." Good Reading

"A fast-paced, easy reading book for middle primary school." The Ballarat Courier

"This exciting story is likely to appeal to young readers who like their adventures action-packed, but also to slightly older, reluctant readers."Sunday Tasmanian

"Children as young as six will enjoy this fast paced novel. Non-stop fantasy action with humour and colourful detail." The Courier Mail on Black Crypt

"Beautifully crafted with magic, excitement, surprises, chases and fights all the way." Aurealis

"From one of Australia's masters of fantasy, this action-packed series is a wonderful introduction to the genre for readers aged nine and over. Perfect for the reluctant or younger reader." Aussiereviews.com

"Fast moving fantasy adventure, brought to life by Cornish's distinctive illustrations." Good Reading

• Language: English
• Publisher: Santhenar Press
• Release date: May 29, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393323532

Book preview

1

The Frost Fair

It was Midwinter Night in Meadowhythe, and the townsfolk were gathered around the Frost Fair bonfires, when the next attack came.

Tamly was sitting on one of the branches of the fig tree in the park with his friends Kym and Mel, for the fireworks were about to begin.

‘I've been waiting for this night all year.’ Tamly polished his golden medal; the council had awarded it to him last summer for saving the town from Lord Harshax.

‘Me too,’ said Mel, the blacksmith’s son, a quiet, muscly boy who had a curving scar on his left cheek where he’d been struck by a piece of hot metal from the forge. It gave him a squint in that eye. ‘I love real fireworks, especially the smell of them.’

Tamly preferred magical ones, because he was the only kid in the town, and perhaps the whole world, who couldn’t do magic. His had been taken from him when he was a baby, because of some old foretelling that said he would become a great danger to magic. Only the town council knew what that meant, but they weren’t going to tell him. He desperately wanted magic, and whenever anyone else made spells he watched and listened carefully, and practised them in his attic bedroom until he was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open. Nothing ever happened but Tamly refused to give up. He just had to have magic.

‘You’re very quiet tonight, Kym,’ he said.

Kym, who was small with black hair and a pretty, pixie-innocent face, was brilliant at magic, though she was a reckless joker who was always playing tricks on people. Now, though, she was sitting with her back to the trunk and her knees pulled up under her chin, staring at the bonfire.

‘I was thinking about last summer,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m scared that –’

With a crack and a boom, a plume of flame and sparks shot up from the bonfire, and silence fell. Plump old Mayor Ignatia clambered onto the platform to present the speech she gave every year.

The mayor speaks.

‘Four hundred years ago, Meadowhythe was founded at the end of the terrible reign of the black sorcerer, Shardax. At that time the town council decided that a Frost Fair would be held each year, on the day of his downfall, to remind us all that evil must never be forgotten. Evil does not die, it merely sleeps until we relax our vigilance. Then it strikes when we least expect it.’

‘You’ll scare the children, Mayor,’ called a voice from the crowd. ‘Shardax’s evil is long gone.’

‘But it must not be forgotten,’ said Ignatia. She raised her wand, the band began playing the merry ‘Fireworks Melody’ and the first rocket soared into the sky. Just as it exploded in brilliant green sparks, Tamly felt his hair stand up and the backs of his hands prickle.

‘Someone’s using magic,’ he said. ‘Strong magic.’

‘Half the town is using magic tonight, Tam,’ said Mel. ‘That’s how Meadowhythe gets such great fireworks.’

‘I suppose so.’ Tamly settled back to enjoy them.

His skin kept prickling for a few more minutes. From a distance, he heard a smashing boom that didn’t sound like a firecracker exploding, and shortly the odd feelings faded away. Tamly couldn’t stop fretting, though, for the