Clara G. (nativenewyorker) reviewed on + 63 more book reviews
FIRST IN THE DAZZLING NEW KEY TRILOGY.
Malory hadn't wanted to attend the cocktail reception at Warrior's Peak. A fanciful name for a spooky old place, she thought. At another time she'd have been thrilled at the opportunity to see the inside of the great old house so high on the ridge.
The pleasure of your company is desired
for cocktails and conversation
Eight P.M., September 4
Warrior's Peak
You are the key. The lock awaits.
Now how weird was that? Malory asked herself, and gritted her teeth as the car shimmied in a sudden gust of wind. The way her luck was going, it was probably a scam for some pyramid scheme. The road forked, and the bend on the right streamed through enormous stone pillars. Malory slowed, gawked at the life-sized warriors standing on each pillar. Perhaps it was the storm, the night, her own jittery mood, but they looked more human than stone, with hair flying around their fierce faces, their hands gripped on the hilt of swords. In the shimmer of lightening, she could almost see muscles rippling in the arms, over the broad, bare chests.
She inched the car closer. Gargoyles hunched along the walls, crawled over the eaves. Gargoyles do not come to life, she assured herself, repeating the words over and over in her head as she rolled the window down a cautious half-inch. "Welcome to Warrior's Peak." His voice boomed over the rain...
Malory hadn't wanted to attend the cocktail reception at Warrior's Peak. A fanciful name for a spooky old place, she thought. At another time she'd have been thrilled at the opportunity to see the inside of the great old house so high on the ridge.
The pleasure of your company is desired
for cocktails and conversation
Eight P.M., September 4
Warrior's Peak
You are the key. The lock awaits.
Now how weird was that? Malory asked herself, and gritted her teeth as the car shimmied in a sudden gust of wind. The way her luck was going, it was probably a scam for some pyramid scheme. The road forked, and the bend on the right streamed through enormous stone pillars. Malory slowed, gawked at the life-sized warriors standing on each pillar. Perhaps it was the storm, the night, her own jittery mood, but they looked more human than stone, with hair flying around their fierce faces, their hands gripped on the hilt of swords. In the shimmer of lightening, she could almost see muscles rippling in the arms, over the broad, bare chests.
She inched the car closer. Gargoyles hunched along the walls, crawled over the eaves. Gargoyles do not come to life, she assured herself, repeating the words over and over in her head as she rolled the window down a cautious half-inch. "Welcome to Warrior's Peak." His voice boomed over the rain...
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