Staked: The Iron Druid Chronicles
Kevin Hearne
Language: English
Pages: 368
ISBN: 0345548531
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • Iron Druid Atticus O’Sullivan, hero of Kevin Hearne’s epic urban fantasy series, has a point to make—and then drive into a vampire’s heart.
When a Druid has lived for two thousand years like Atticus, he’s bound to run afoul of a few vampires. Make that legions of them. Even his former friend and legal counsel turned out to be a bloodsucking backstabber. Now the toothy troublemakers—led by power-mad pain-in-the-neck Theophilus—have become a huge problem requiring a solution. It’s time to make a stand.
As always, Atticus wouldn’t mind a little backup. But his allies have problems of their own. Ornery archdruid Owen Kennedy is having a wee bit of troll trouble: Turns out when you stiff a troll, it’s not water under the bridge. Meanwhile, Granuaile is desperate to free herself of the Norse god Loki’s mark and elude his powers of divination—a quest that will bring her face-to-face with several Slavic nightmares.
As Atticus globetrots to stop his nemesis Theophilus, the journey leads to Rome. What better place to end an immortal than the Eternal City? But poetic justice won’t come without a price: In order to defeat Theophilus, Atticus may have to lose an old friend.
Praise for Kevin Hearne and The Iron Druid Chronicles
“[The Iron Druid books] are clever, fast paced and a good escape.”—Jason Weisberger, Boing Boing
“Celtic mythology and an ancient Druid with modern attitude mix it up in the Arizona desert in this witty new fantasy series.”—Kelly Meding, author of Chimera
“Outrageously fun.”—The Plain Dealer, on Hounded
“Superb . . . plenty of quips and zap-pow-bang fighting.”—Publishers Weekly (starred review), on Hounded
“Exciting . . . [Atticus] is one of the best main characters currently present in the urban fantasy genre.”—Fantasy Book Critic, on Tricked
“Funny, razor-sharp . . . plenty of action, humor, and mythology.”—Booklist (starred review), on Shattered
From the Hardcover edition.
Dead Beat (The Dresden Files, Book 7)
Five Odd Honors (Breaking the Wall, Book 3)
Blood Wolf (Changeling, Book 3)
Mockingbird (Miriam Black, Book 2)
Touching Darkness (Midnighters, Book 2)
says. “And me hands?” “Should also be fine.” Normally I wouldn’t bother punching a stone. Your fingers would break long before the stone would, and rock doesn’t make any noises to let you know it’s hurt. But if you’re going to test a weapon you have to do it right. I cock me right fist, half expecting to shatter me hand, and let one fly at the rock. It doesn’t split and turn to dust, but neither does me hand. Instead, the blow turns the top layer underneath the knuckles into a fine webwork of
be fighting for.” Diana’s confident voice contained a bite of scorn. She had not been cowed by nearly two months of solitary confinement in the darkness. Mortals would have broken in mere days, but not an Olympian. “Go on, then,” she said. “They will protect the dryads and their groves and make sure that they flourish with the strength of Gaia. And they sincerely regret inspiring your anger. All that they ask is that you allow them to live and do not conspire against them.” The goddess of the
its head, trying not to lose Perun in the glare of the UV lights, but considering the trouble I’m having keeping track of him, I imagine that it’s difficult. When I’m halfway to the stable, Perun attacks, and it’s so fast that I can’t track what happened exactly—just that the snake is bleeding and there are some feathers left behind afterward. No clear advantage to either. At the entrance to the stable I change back to my human shape, so that my hooves won’t clop loudly on the floor and draw
you can wear it all you want afterward. But I need you to remove it now so that we can target you for the ritual.” “Oh. All right.” I take off my necklace and put it over Orlaith’s head, asking her to keep it safe for me. “Your hound will need to remain outside the circle, by the way.” I ask Orlaith to wait for me outside the circle, with my amulet and Scáthmhaide, and once she does I feel acutely vulnerable, because the Sisters of the Three Auroras could target me with something else now and
them I’d have to cross the threshold of those wards, and I wasn’t ready to do that. Above the fashion shops, rows of windows checkered the façade, most of them shuttered closed but a few thrown open to let in the weak winter sun. The open windows provided a big clue to where the vampires were not. Looking up, I could see the green umbrellas of boxed trees and hints of rooftop gardens—lofty aeries for the obscenely rich to gaze down upon the hoi polloi. Keeping my magical sight active, I urged
