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The Rithmatist, Brandon Sanderson's New York Times bestselling epic teen adventure is now available in paperback.
More than anything, Joel wants to be a Rithmatist. Rithmatists have the power to infuse life into two-dimensional figures known as Chalklings. Rithmatists are humanity's only defense against the Wild Chalklings. Having nearly overrun the territory of Nebrask, the Wild Chalklings now threaten all of the American Isles.
As the son of a lowly chalkmaker at Armedius Academy, Joel can only watch as Rithmatist students learn the magical art that he would do anything to practice. Then students start disappearing―kidnapped from their rooms at night, leaving trails of blood. Assigned to help the professor who is investigating the crimes, Joel and his friend Melody find themselves on the trail of an unexpected discovery―one that will change Rithmatics―and their world―forever.
A New York Times Book Review Notable Children's Book of 2013
read. Joel waited, heart beating, as the professor deducted points here and there. Finally, Kim totaled up the score at the bottom. “Do I pass?” Joel asked. “Yes,” Kim said. “Tell me, why did you hand in that other test? We both know you’re quite accomplished in this subject.” “I just needed the right motivation, sir,” Joel said. “Please, would you write a note to the principal explaining that I passed?” “I suppose. Would you, by chance, be interested in studying in my advanced history
Joel watched as the door closed, then turned eagerly to Fitch. “Let’s see what those new sheets contain. There might be more to the puzzle!” “Joel, lad,” Fitch said. “Remember, this is a young man’s life we are talking about, not just a puzzle.” Joel nodded solemnly. “I’m still not convinced that involving you was a good idea,” Fitch said. “I should have talked to your mother first.” Fitch reluctantly undid the tie on the roll of paper. The top sheet was a police report. VICTIM: Presumed to
having a mother who worked all the time. Fitch took a long time to answer Joel’s knock. When he did pull open the door, he looked bleary-eyed, still wearing a blue dressing gown. “Oh!” Fitch said. “Joel. What hour is it?” Joel winced, realizing that Fitch had probably been up late studying those strange patterns. “I’m sorry for waking you,” Joel said. “I was eager to find out if you discovered anything. About the patterns, I mean.” Fitch yawned. “No, unfortunately. But it wasn’t for lack of
He stifled a grunt and joined her in the next row. They could peek through a crack between bookshelves and catch a glimpse of Nalizar, though the poor view didn’t let Joel read the title of the book the professor had. Nalizar glanced up toward where Joel had been. Then he turned—never noticing Joel and Melody peering through the small slit at him—and walked away. “What books are shelved there?” Joel whispered to Melody. She rounded the other side—it wouldn’t matter if Nalizar saw her—and took
well? Why was it that people valued what his mother did so much less than what someone like Professor Fitch did? She worked twice as hard as anyone Joel knew, and yet she gained no notoriety, no wealth or prestige. Melody had wondered where his mother’s money went, and it was a good question. His mother worked long hours. So where did their money go? Was his mother saving it all? Or was there something else? An expense Joel had never considered.… He sat upright, feeling a chill. “The