Charlie Fletcher

Language: English

Pages: 480

ISBN: 1423101790

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

The city of London is in the middle of one of its most destructive wars in history. And yet most of its inhabitants don't even know it.
The battle between the statues and gargoyles of London rages on. The stakes are high, with the spits engaged in a struggle against the evil taints that will determine the fate of their very souls.
Twelve year old George Chapman and his friend Edie are caught in the middle. A glint with the ability to "see" the past, Edie has become a crucial asset in the ongoing war. The Gunner, a statue of a World War I soldier, continues do his part to help them in their quest. But George knows that he is the one who must play the biggest role in helping to bring an end to the war. With the Walker intent on forcing his evil designs on London and the world, George realizes that his destiny is inextricably tied to the Walker's destruction. In the end, the most important soul he manages to save might just be his own.
Filled with intriguing suspense, invigorating action sequences, and well developed characters, Silvertongue is a thrilling conclusion to the international blockbuster Stoneheart trilogy.

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returned and had pecked her mother’s stone out of her grasp. The bird landed on the top of the stone wall a foot away and cocked its head at her, the stone dangling and twisting at the end of its long beak. “Hey!” gasped Edie, stepping forward and reaching for her stone. The Raven hopped backward along the wall, not too far, just enough to make her take another step. “Please…” she cried. The prospect of losing this last link with her mother, and all the vulnerable possibilities it had

appeared to move miraculously out of his way just enough for the girl and the spit to move forward, then close in behind them as soon as they passed—all without seeing the pair. The Gunner, she noticed, had his fingers in his ears. She could only see the back of his helmet reflecting the wheeling pin spots above him, but she knew his face would be wrung into a tight scowl. They passed through a thicket of jumping girls waving luminous glow sticks in the air, and then found themselves trailing

circled the Corpse warily. “What would you, boy maker?” wheezed the Corpse. “For what would you disturb my rest?” “I need your help. I think,” said George, trying not to notice the way the shroud billowed out from the face as the Corpse spoke. And as fast as he could, he outlined his predicament and the sudden harm the two dark powers were visiting on London. He didn’t dodge any of the hard facts, and made it clear that it all seemed to be his fault, stemming from his accidental act of

the flapping door and slammed it shut. There was a bolt on the outside of the door, which she rammed home. Then she ran to the edge of the roof. There was a sheer drop down to the parking lot in front of the hospital. They watched as she dashed around the rectangular perimeter, looking for a safe way down. They saw the realization grow on her that she was trapped up here. They heard the increasingly urgent banging on the locked roof door, the distant sound of an emergency bell ringing, and

the Duke calmly, nodding across the street. “Over there.” The Old Soldier peered through the frost-rimed glass of the bus window. He couldn’t see much, and what he could see was bleary and indistinct. He turned to find the Duke looking at him. One of the things that made the Duke such an uncomfortably good leader—if you were a follower—was that he seemed to be able to give orders without actually speaking them. The Old Soldier nodded and cleared his throat quietly. “I, er, could crawl over

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