Shadowland: Book III of the Brotherhood of the Conch (The Brotherhood of the Conch Series) - Hardcover

Divakaruni, Chitra Banerjee

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 1596431539 ISBN 13: 9781596431539

Publisher: Roaring Brook Press, 2009

Synopsis

The hero of the Brotherhood of the Conch series, now fifteen, is settling back into his life as an apprentice in the lush Silver Valley, nestled high in the Himalayas. There he continues to learn the secret arts of the Brotherhood. But suddenly his adopted home is reduced to a barren wasteland when his beloved conch, the valley's source of magical energy, is stolen by an unknown force. Together with his friend Nisha, Anand embarks on what may be his most dangerous mission--traveling to the cold and forbidding world of Shadowland in his attempt to restore the conch to its rightful place, and his home to its original splendor. The third and final book in the series.

About this title

About the Author:

CHITRA BANERJEE DIVAKARUNI is the bestselling author of THE MISTRESS OF SPICES (soon to be a motion picture) and THE PALACE OF ILLUSIONS. THE CONCH BEARER, the first book in the sequence, was named a Booklist Editor's Choice, a Publishers Weekly Best Book of the Year, and a Texas Bluebonnet Nominee. She lives with her husband and two sons in Sugarland, Texas.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:

Disaster!Anand paced up and down the length of the cave, dimly lit by a sputtering lamp that was threatening to extinguish itself. His impatient footsteps echoed against the cave’s damp, rough-hewn walls. He was vexed, and who could blame him? He’d been waiting here in this freezing hole high on a cliff-side for four days now—the last twenty-four hours without food or water. And there was still no sight or sound of the hermit he’d come all this way to meet! If he hadn’t seen the man himself on a couple of occasions in the past year, clambering up the side of a distant crag like a skinny goat, his gray hair blown helter-skelter and his robe billowing in the wind, he would have doubted his very existence in spite of all that Abhaydatta the master healer had told him.
Though Anand generally held Abhaydatta, whose apprentice he was, in the greatest esteem, right now he was angry with him as well. If it weren’t for Abhaydatta, Anand wouldn’t be here, starving half to death, and probably coming down with a terrible cold, too. This last he could tell because his head felt like it was stuffed with wool, and sounds reached his ears distorted and indistinct, as though they were reaching him from very far away. Of course, Anand was partially to blame for the situation in which he found himself, but when this unpleasant thought pricked at his conscience, he pushed it away, focusing instead on what to do next.
I’ll wait until the lamp burns out, he said to himself. Then I’ll go back down to the Silver Valley, where I’ll have to tell Abhaydatta that I failed.
He sat down on the clammy, uncomfortably sharp rocks just inside the entrance to the cave, crouching a little, for he’d grown a great deal in the last year since he turned fifteen and wasn’t yet used to his height. From this vantage point he scanned the hillside for the hermit, though his hopes were not high. He drew his yellow wool tunic—the one that all apprentices in the Brotherhood wore—closer and pushed his long hair away from his eyes. The despondence that tormented him today was unusual for him. Generally he was a cheerful and responsible young man, much liked by the Healers. His fellow apprentices liked him, too, though they sometimes complained that he took the world too seriously. But mostly they held him in awe because he held a special position in the Brotherhood. He was Keeper of the magical conch from which the Healers drew their power, and the only one with whom the conch communicated. Anand, however, was rather modest and didn’t consider himself special. If anything, he had many doubts about his abilities—and all of them seemed to have surfaced today.
After four days of harsh winds and sleet, it was finally bright outside, the sun shining on piles of snow. It was still cold—but then, up this high in the Himalayas, it was always cold, except in the Silver Valley, where right now Anand’s schoolmates would be sitting down to a hot, savory lunch. Gloom descended on him as he imagined their meal. On Tuesdays—today was Tuesday, wasn’t it?—the cooks generally served a hearty rice and lentil stew filled with fresh vegetables grown in the Valley, with fried potatoes on the side. His stomach growled as he imagined biting into a succulent, spicy potato. But then his appetite ebbed. How would Abhaydatta react to his failure—and to his disobedience, for he had given Anand strict instructions to the Valley yesterday? Abhaydatta wasn’t given to ranting. He’d probably stride away, lips clamped together in disappointment. But some of the other apprentices were sure to make fun of Anand, reminding him of how proud he’d been when given this special assignment, how certain he’d been of his success.
Anand didn’t know that none of the things he dreaded was going to happen, that something far worse was waiting for him in the Valley.*****
Five days ago. That was when it had all started.
Anand had been in the middle of a lesson with Master Mihirdatta, the Healer who specialized in Transformation, a magical skill that allowed someone to examine the very essence of objects and change the whirling particles of energy that was at their core.
"If you can focus your intellect enough to get down to the level of this energy in something, if you can feel its particular vibration, then you can transform it when necessary to something else," Mihirdatta explained. "But it is an advanced skill even for those of you who are senior apprentices, and not to be undertaken lightly, for to change the essence of even the smallest object is dangerous and may have far-reaching consequences." He gave the students a simple exercise—to change the palm leaf on which they were writing their notes into parchment—but even that was difficult. Anand concentrated the way the Healer had explained, closing his eyes, drifting into a state that could best be described as alert sleep, and trying to feel deep into the fabric of the leaf. Just when he felt a strange sensation as though the leaf was dissolving into a pool of rapidly moving pinpricks of light, he was distracted by the arrival of a messenger. It was Raj-bhanu, a friend of Anand’s. They had been on an adventure together some time back when Raj-bhanu was a senior apprentice. He had recently graduated and had been given a Junior Healer’s robes. He bowed to Mihirdatta in apology for interrupting his lesson. However, he said, he had an urgent message from Abhaydatta. Anand was to meet him in the Hall of Seeing as soon as he finished this class.
This was highly unusual. The apprentices’ days followed a strict and (in Anand’s opinion) overly predictable routine. The other boys whispered among themselves, wondering what could have occurred and throwing Anand curious glances. Anand sat up very straight, his heart beating fast as he wondered why his teacher had summoned him. He knew it was important. Otherwise Abhaydatta would have used a carrier pigeon instead of sending a Healer. He hoped it was something exciting.
Anand loved being part of the Brotherhood of Healers and learning the secret arts with which they aided the world. He knew how lucky he was to be here, in this beautiful, sheltered valley with its winding paths lined by silver-barked parijat trees, its airy dormitories, and its magnificent crystal hall where the magic conch from which the healers drew their strength was housed. He felt especially fortunate to be Keeper of the conch because he loved the tiny but immensely powerful shell more than he had ever thought he could love anything—or anyone. Still, it had been two years since his last adventure when, along with his best friend Nisha, he’d traveled back in time to the court of Nawab Najib to save his subjects from being destroyed by an evil jinn. He’d been happy to return to the Brotherhood after having completed his task successfully, and in the last couple of years he’d learned many valuable skills. But now he was ready for a new quest.
He was so distracted by all these thoughts that he bungled the Transformation he was attempting, turning his palm-leaf, quite inexplicably, into a large and extremely blue turban. His classmates snickered, and even Master Mihirdatta stared in disbelief. "How on earth did you manage that? In all my years of teaching, I’ve never seen any student come up with that particular result. Ah well! It’s obvious that you’ll be of no use until you’ve found out what Master Abhaydatta wants. You might as well go to him right now."
Anand bowed gratefully, handed the turban to the

About this edition

• Publisher: Roaring Brook Press
• Publication date: 2009
• ISBN 10: 1596431539
• ISBN 13: 9781596431539
• Binding: Hardcover
• Edition number: 1
• Number of pages: 240