The Winter Knights (The Edge Chronicles, Book 8; The Quint Trilogy, Book 2)

The Winter Knights (The Edge Chronicles, Book 8; The Quint Trilogy, Book 2)

Paul Stewart, Chris Riddell

Language: English

Pages: 176


Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Original publication: 2005 in Great Britain by Doubleday


In the great floating city of Sanctaphrax, blizzards howl through the streets as the Edgeworld descends into an endless winter. Quint, the son of a sky pirate, has just begun his training at the Knights Academy—training that involves heading out over the Edge on tethers to develop his flying skills. But when Quint breaks the rules and sets off for Open Sky on his own, he runs into the great sky leviathans known as cloud-eaters and must use all his skill and ingenuity if catastrophe is not to strike the Edgeworld. . . .

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his voice laden with venomous hatred. ‘The earth-scholars might not be out in the open where we can see them any longer, but they are still there; skulking in the corners, waiting at every opportunity to tempt sky-scholars from their sacred studies. Why, they have even infiltrated the Knights Academy itself!’ At that, cries of ‘No!’ and ‘It can’t be true!’ filled the air. ‘It is true, my dear sky-scholars,’ Hax broke in. ‘Here in this great academy of ours, earth-scholars are infecting the

‘Harmless?’ roared Hax, slamming his fist down on the lectern. ‘Harmless? When it has led you into gambling debts you cannot hope to pay, and forced you to neglect your studies! See how the stain of earth-scholarship taints even the finest amongst us!’ Arboretum hung his head in shame. ‘I never meant it to go so far. I just had a run of bad luck. Thought if I read up on the little beasts …’ ‘You are a disgrace to the Knights Academy!’ Hax roared, before turning his gaze on a grim-faced Fenviel

think only of these crazy stormchasing voyages,’ he growled. ‘Meanwhile, those gatekeepers do as they please,’ added Mardel grimly. ‘And talking of crazy stormchasing voyages …’ He motioned towards the great oval window. ‘There goes another one now.’ Dengreeve turned and looked up. Sure enough, rising up from the top of the viaduct, a stormchaser – the varnish on its timber still glistening wet from the ship cradles of Undertown – was setting sail. Several academics-at-arms rose from their

swordmaster into place, he hurried off down the corridor towards the Central Staircase. In the Central Hall of the Upper Halls, a gangly young knight academic-in-waiting with oval spectacles paced the floor. His brow was furrowed. Pausing for a moment beneath one of the tall, ornately decorated pulpits, he reached out and, with his forefinger, traced the twists and curves of a carved tarry-vine with his forefinger. This was the pulpit where the Fellowship of the First Scholars held their

what you’re thinking,’ said Daxiel. ‘Woodwasp eggs – an earth-scholar trick! But that’s just what they want you to believe!’ ‘They?’ asked a heavily-tattooed flat-head goblin with a puzzled frown. ‘The academics-at-arms, of course!’ snarled Daxiel. ‘They, and their friends in the Upper Halls. Sanctaphrax born and bred, the lot of them, and they hated Hax Vostillix because he wouldn’t stand for their stuck-up ways! That’s why he took on Undertowners like us to be his gatekeepers.’ Daxiel

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