By Cate Tiernan
After seventeen-year-old Thais Allard loses her widowed father in a sad vehicle coincidence, she is pressured to depart the single domestic she’s ever identified to dwell with a complete stranger in New Orleans. New Orleans greets Thais with many secrets and techniques and mysteries, yet none as incredible because the second she comes head to head with the impossible—an exact dual, Clio. Thais quickly learns that she and the dual she by no means knew come from a kinfolk of witches, that she possesses dazzling powers, and that she, in addition to Clio, has a key position in Balefire, the coven she was once born into. Fiery Clio is under overjoyed to need to proportion the highlight, however the twins needs to learn how to mix their powers as a way to whole a ceremony that would rework their lives and the coven eternally.
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Additional info for A Feather of Stone (Balefire Series #3)
A. A. ) Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd) Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi - 110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), Cnr Airborne and Rosedale Roads, Albany, Auckland 1310, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Copyright 2005 © Gabrielle Charbonnet eISBN : 978-1-101-15723-7 All rights reserved Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.
Frowning, Richard flicked his cigarette into the water. There was a quick hiss, and then Richard remembered that littering was verboten nowadays. Damn. He took off his shirt and began to push the pirogue through the thick weeds. He saw a nutria, as big as a house cat, race across the canal where the hyacinths were so thick they could practically support its weight. Twenty minutes later he was clear of the canal and started the motor again. There was an almost-hidden entrance along here, leading to a narrow, snaking river barely twelve feet wide.
She approached him with firm steps, sensible brogues seeming like boats on her narrow feet. Her tweed skirt was worn but once of good quality. She smiled and knelt with difficulty. A gnarled hand reached for the hem of his robe. Before he could stop her, she had kissed it. “Bless me, Father,” she murmured, her head bowed. Marcel felt another pang of sorrow and loss so acute that tears started to his eyes. He had never felt worthy of this traditional demonstration of faith, but now somehow, tainted anew by his past, he felt even more fraudulent.