By Alison Croggon
Now in paperback! The climactic quantity of the epic quartet follows the Bards of Edil-Amarandh on an important quest to merge their powers opposed to a anonymous evil.In a battle-ravaged land, Maerad, Cadvan, and Hem desperately look for each other as they make their separate trips. The Black military is advancing, and all the Seven Kingdoms are threatened with devastating defeat. but in Maerad and Hem lives the key to the mysterious making a song, and legend holds that in the event that they liberate the track of Elidhu jointly, they've got the facility to defeat the anonymous One. Can brother and sister locate one another in time—and are they robust sufficient, even reunited—to defeat the ideally suited enemy ahead of all is misplaced?
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Additional info for The Singing: The Fourth Book of Pellinor (Pellinor Series)
No," said Maerad. "That's not quite true," Cadvan said impatiently. " "I've never fought an Elidhu," said Maerad. " Indik's question made her feel sick with panic; she saw that she was his main hope. Suddenly a major part of the responsibility for defending Innail was on her shoulders, and she didn't know if she would be any help at all. She met Indik's gaze; he was studying her, his face inscrutable, weighing the odds. With a slight shock, she realized that on his face was the same expression as when he tried a new sword: he was calculat-ing the merit of a weapon, testing its temper and edge.
You're still too thin," said Indik. " With Darsor's freely given advice thrown in, Maerad chose a new horse shortly afterward. Indik had three of the same hardy crossbreed as Imi, two mares and a stallion. As far as Darsor was concerned, the fine-looking bay stallion was out of the question (although Maerad rather regretfully turned her eyes from him). There was also a black mare, and a straw-berry roan with a broad blaze down her nose. Maerad exam-ined both of them carefully, under Indik's deceptively casual gaze, and picked the roan.
I think we follow that way now. " Maerad turned her face away, and Cadvan, sensing her discomfort, began to talk of practical things: the food they would take, whether it would be safe to stay in inns in the val-ley, how dangerous the road might be. Early the next morning, they bid their friends farewell and trotted through the main gate of Innail. The rain had stopped, leaving in its wake a biting wind straight off the mountain-side; Maerad had dressed in several layers of clothes to ward off the cold, and still felt the chill.