Reckless II: Living Shadows

by Cornelia Funke, Cornelia Funke (Illustrator), Oliver Latsch (Translator)

Overview

Jacob Reckless's shadowy adventures continue in the second volume of Cornelia Funke's spellbinding Reckless series.

Jacob has saved his brother from the Mirrorworld, but now he will pay a terrible price. A fairy's curse is burning in his heart, and to break the spell he must embark upon a perilous journey - with his trusty friend Fox by his side - to seek out the only treasure that could save him.

Jacob's search for the golden crossbow will lead him across hundreds of miles by land and sea, to an invisible, enchanted palace within the Dead City. It will bring him face to face with vicious beasts, bloodthirsty giants, and a deadly stone­faced rival.

It will test his courage like never before.

Living Shadows is the second book in the thrilling Reckless series.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781782691259
Publisher:	Steerforth Press
Publication date:	07/06/2021
Series:	Mirrorworld Series , #2
Pages:	416
Sales rank:	996,895
Product dimensions:	5.00(w) x 7.80(h) x 1.20(d)
Age Range:	13 - 17 Years

About the Author

Cornelia Funke is the highly acclaimed, award-winning and bestselling author of the Inkheart trilogy, Dragon Rider, The Thief Lord and numerous other children's novels and picture books. Born in 1958 in the German town of Dorsten, she worked as a social worker for a few years before turning first to illustration and then to writing. Her books have now sold more than 20 million copies worldwide, and have been translated into 37 languages.

Hometown:

Los Angeles, CA

Date of Birth:

December 10, 1958

Place of Birth:

Dorsten, Germany

Education:

University of Hamburg

Read an Excerpt

1
Waiting
He still wasn’t back.
‘I won’t stay long.’ Fox wiped the rain off her face. With
Jacob, this could mean anything. Sometimes he stayed for weeks. Sometimes months.
The ruin lay deserted as usual, and the silence between the scorched walls made her shiver nearly as much as the rain. The human skin warmed so much less, yet Fox now shifted into the vixen ever more rarely. All too clearly she had begun to feel how the fur stole the years from her—even without Jacob reminding her.
He’d held her so close before he left, as if he wanted to take her warmth with him into the world where he was born. Something frightened him, though he didn’t admit it, of course. He was still like a boy who thought he could outrun his own shadow.
They’d been way up in the north, in Sveriga and Norga,
where even now the forests were still buried in thick snow and where hunger drove the wolves into the towns. Before that they’d traveled so far south that the vixen still found desert sand in her fur. Thousands of miles… cities and countries she’d never heard of before, and all supposedly to find an Hourglass. But Fox knew Jacob too well to believe that.
At her feet, the first wild primroses were springing up between the shattered flagstones. She snapped off one of the delicate stalks, and the dew rolling off the flowers was still cold. It had been a long winter, and Fox could feel the past months like frost on her skin. So much had happened since the previous summer. All that fear for Jacob’s brother…
and for Jacob. Too much fear. Too much love. Too much of everything.
She tucked the pale yellow flower into her lapel. Hands…
they made up for the chilly skin her human body came in.
Whenever she wore her fur, Fox missed reading the world with her fingers.
‘I won’t stay long.’
With a quick movement, she grabbed a Thumbling who’d pushed his tiny hand into her jacket pocket. He only let go of the gold coin after she shook him as hard as the vixen would a captured mouse. The little thief bit at her fingers before he dashed off, muttering insults. Jacob always tucked a few coins into her pockets before he left. He hadn’t adjusted to the fact that she now managed quite well in the human world—even without him.
What was he afraid of?
Fox had asked him, after they’d ridden for days from one wretched village to the next, only to end up standing beneath some dead sultan’s dried-up pomegranate tree. She’d asked him again, when Jacob had gotten himself drunk three nights in a row after they’d found an overgrown garden with nothing but a dried-up well in it. ‘It’s nothing. Don’t worry.’ A kiss on the cheek and that careless smile she’d been able see right through since she was twelve. ‘It’s nothing…’
She knew that he missed his brother, but this was something else. Fox looked up at the tower. The charred stones seemed to whisper a name. Clara. Was that it?
Her heart still tightened whenever she thought of the brook and the two dead larks. Jacob’s hand in Clara’s hair,
his mouth on her mouth. So ravenous.
Maybe that was why she’d nearly gone with him—for the first time. She’d even followed Jacob up into the tower,
but in front of that mirror her courage had deserted her. Its glass seemed to her like dark ice that would freeze her heart.
Fox turned her back to the tower.
Jacob was going to come back.
He always came back.