The Realms of the Gods (The Immortals)
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Daine controls the fate of Tortall in this thrilling conclusion to the Immortals series, featuring an updated cover for longtime fans and fresh converts alike, and including an all-new afterword from Tamora Pierce.
During a dire battle against the fearsome Skinners, Daine and her mage teacher, Numair, are swept into the Divine Realms. Although they are happy to be alive, they are not where they want to be. They are desperately needed back home where their old enemy, Ozorne, and his army of strange creatures are waging war against Tortall.
While trapped in the perilous realms of the gods, Daine discovers her mysterious parentage. But as the secrets of her past are revealed, so is the treacherous way back to Tortall. And so Daine and Numair embark on an extraordinary journey home, where the fate of all Tortall rests with Daine and her wild magic.
elephant hide, she climbed on in comfort. The way was rocky and steep. By the time she reached the rocky summit, she was gasping. Below was the forest roof, an expanse of countless shades of green, pierced by clearings, streams, and ponds. Turning, she found mountains that stabbed into the sky, their heads wrapped in cloud, their shoulders white with snow. “Oh, glory,” she whispered, and went to see what lay below on that side. Passing a dip in the rock, she halted. A pool of some eerie
darking that Weiryn had shot? “Pass the cheese?” asked Broad Foot, nudging her with his head. She obliged, forking slices onto his plate. As the duckmole happily mashed cheese in his bill, she glanced at her companions. Queenclaw mildly batted a piece of bread to and fro. Her mother seemed to be conversing with Gainel, while Numair tried to learn from Weiryn if a human mage might have better luck in approaching the rulers of the Divine Realms. “I don’t see why you fuss about it so,” Weiryn
long, wide grass shelf. Ahead the land fell into a vast gorge. Approaching the edge, Daine looked down and whistled. Far, far below lay a thin silver curl: a river. “Long Drop Gorge,” the badger told them. Nodding at two splintery logs planted upright in the ground at the cliff’s edge, he added, “And there’s the First Bridge.” Daine gulped. What had looked like a sturdy enough wood-and-rope construction in the vision over Weiryn’s map was in reality fraying, twisted hemp and ancient slats. Twin
seems like a nice little bridge.” He looked back at her, eyebrows raised. “It never dumped us, now, did it? And it could’ve.” “Yours is a happy nature,” the mage answered, wry. “I confess, this is too much like excitement for me.” “It could be worse,” Daine said, and giggled. “It could be raining.” Numair shook his head, then returned his attention to crossing the bridge. “I wonder if that hurrok struck your head a little too hard.” “Nonsense,” the girl retorted. “I couldn’t have shot
The dragons continued to argue about legal issues. Red tinted the scales of most present; lightning, in sheets or threads, danced over more than a few. “Excuse me!” “Try again,” murmured Numair. Black fire glimmered around the hand he placed on the nape of her neck. She took a deep breath. “EXCUSE ME!” she cried. Her voice, amplified by the mage’s spell, thundered in the bowl of the arena. Daine winced, and used a quieter tone. “All we want is to go home—that’s it. We don’t like being here any