Once a Castle: A Carrick Hall Novel, Book 2

Once a Castle: A Carrick Hall Novel, Book 2

Worlds collide and lives are changed as portals between our reality and the magical land of Ternival fray in the spellbinding sequel to the Christy Award finalist Once a Queen, called “a fresh, delightful new tale for our wonder-hungry era” by Mitali Perkins. A few years after Eva Joyce and Frankie Addison discovered the existence of portals to other worlds, Frankie’s younger siblings, together with some new friends, make discoveries that will change their lives, and at least two worlds, forever. Jack, Tilly, and Elspeth Addison just want to stay out of trouble (well, mostly, at least), but trouble keeps finding them.  Meanwhile, Arash, a newcomer to the Addisons’ English village, tries to discover the secret his grandfather is hiding while keeping his own secrets from everyone. And Zahra, a Ternivali teenager, faces a crisis in her world, but before she can put things right, she’s rudely catapulted into the weirdest place she’s ever seen—where everyone seems to think she’s the weird one. Soon their stories get tangled together, and the teens must discover if they can bridge their differences and find, in themselves and one another, what it takes to put things right. Because it’s not only their lives at stake but also the fate of their home—and of more than one kingdom. Sarah Arthur is a fun-loving speaker and the author of more than a dozen books for teens and adults, including the bestselling Once a Queen . Among other nerdy adventures, she has served as preliminary fiction judge for Christianity Today ’s Book Awards, was a founding board member of the annual Northern Michigan C. S. Lewis Festival, and co-directs the Madeleine L’Engle Writing Retreats. Chapter 1 The castle had appeared out of nowhere. Jack Addison had hunted for geodes in this valley before, at least a hundred times. Normally the place contained only some scrubby underbrush and one small lake fed by a burbling stream, all encircled by stony bluffs. But today, at the far end of the lake, stood a castle. And not just any castle. Boxy and unadorned, with sheer stone walls rising to high battlements, it had the same twelfth-­century features as a fortress he’d visited on a class trip last term. But this was no ruin. It was fully intact. In fact, it seemed to be inhabited. A wisp of smoke spiraled lazily from the highest battlement. A strange rumble echoed across the water, like someone rolling a cart across a stone courtyard. Back and forth, back and forth. Jack began to edge around the lake toward the castle, following what looked like the familiar path. He felt slightly dizzy, like maybe he’d cracked his head harder while rock climbing yesterday than he’d realized. This couldn’t be the same valley. He’d taken a wrong turn somewhere. But no. There was the scree of fallen rocks where he’d found that simply spectacular geode last summer. There was the boulder where he’d eaten leftover fish-­and-­chips on Sunday. He’d chucked the newspaper into the shrubs, he remembered now. If it was the same valley, wouldn’t it still be there? It was. After a brief scramble, he found the newspaper balled up nearby. Another wave of dizziness swept over him. He glanced back and forth between the smoke curling from the battlement and the paper in his palm. Same newspaper. Same valley. But castles didn’t just grow from the ground. One lone arrow slit toward the topmost battlement seemed to stare at him like an unblinking reptilian eye. It made him feel small and vulnerable, which he didn’t often feel these days—­a mighty growth spurt after his thirteenth birthday had taken care of that. But now he felt tiny as an insect, easily crushed. The rumble grew louder for a moment, paused, then resumed, a little deeper now. Jack stayed put, watching warily, until curiosity drove him forward again. Now he was in the castle’s very shadow, its grim exterior rising to an impossible height. As he drew nearer, a nauseating smell hit him: an organic sourness that reminded him of wet dog and sweaty PE clothes, but worse. The rumble shook the ground beneath him, with more pauses filled by a strange whooshing, like enormous bellows. For about ten seconds he considered retreating up the path that had brought him here. He’d climb back to the ridgeline that connected the high summit of Giant’s Beacon to Table Mount and descend from there to Carrick Hall, his parents’ workplace. He’d enter the normal chaos of the estate’s kitchen, study his maps at the table, and regain his bearings over tea and scones. But the castle wall was almost within reach now. Just a few more steps and he could confirm whether or not it was real. Plus, he was beyond range of the arrow slit, which gave him a sudden boldness. He reached out. Real. He could feel the grit under his fingers, the clammy coolness. He could feel the rumble, too, vibrating through the rock, and smell the stench. The sound, at least, was coming from somewhere on the other side of the castle. Jack stepped ginge