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- KurzbeschreibungFrom the creator of Dragonbreath comes a tale of witches, minions, and one fantastic castle, just right for fans of Roald Dahl and Tom Angleberger.
When Molly shows up on Castle Hangnail's doorstep to fill the vacancy for a wicked witch, the castle's minions are understandably dubious. After all, she is twelve years old, barely five feet tall, and quite polite. (The minions are used to tall, demanding evil sorceresses with razor-sharp cheekbones.) But the castle desperately needs a master or else the Board of Magic will decommission it, leaving all the minions without the home they love. So when Molly assures them she is quite wicked indeed (So wicked! REALLY wicked!) and begins completing the tasks required by the Board of Magic for approval, everyone feels hopeful. Unfortunately, it turns out that Molly has quite a few secrets, including the biggest one of all: that she isn't who she says she is.
This quirky, richly illustrated novel is filled with humor, magic, and an unforgettable all-star cast of castle characters.
- AutorUrsula Vernon
- VerlagPenguin LCC US
- FormatGebundene Ausgabe
- Seiten384 Seiten
- Gewicht493 g
It was a marvelously dark and dour twilight at the castle.
Clouds the color of bruises lay across the hills. Rooks and ravens flapped into the battlements and were met by bats leaving for the evening.
True, there were only three ravens, but there were plenty of bats, so the overall impression was of a small cloud of winged smoke hanging over the highest tower.
The castle guardian was pleased.
Sadly, Castle Hangnail was not surrounded by jagged mountains, which would have been ideal, but you couldn't have everything. The grassy hills around the castle were doing their best impression of a blasted moor. The guardian tried not to notice the dandelions growing on the hillside. They were much too cheerful. He would go and have a word with the gardener tomorrow.
It was a good Evil castle, he thought fiercely. Anyone would be proud to have it! Even with the dandelions and the aging ravens and the unreliable plumbing. Castle Hangnail had history. Dark and terrible deeds had been done there. Probably.
He shuffled an empty teacup out of the way. Someone had left it on an end table near the door, and he hid it behind a stuffed crocodile.
The ravens had assured him that the new Master or Mistress of the castle would arrive tonight.
He hung about the main door, waiting. Would it be an Evil Wizard? A Dark Sorceress? A Loathsome Hag?
He hoped it wasn't the Hag. A certain degree of dust and cobwebs were expected in an Evil castle, but a really dedicated Loathsome Hag would have slime dripping off the walls and dead mice at the dinner table. It got to the point where you were embarrassed to have people over.
But an Evil Wizard, now . . . well, there was a lot to be said for an Evil Wizard. Or a Witch. A Wicked Witch would be just fine. Perhaps she'd even have a cat.
The guardian was fond of cats.
Really, though, he wasn't picky. Any proper Master would do. Necromancer. Cursed Beastlord. Even an ordinary Mad Scientist.
"It's been so long . . ." he said out loud. "I was afraid no one would answer the letters."
"You're telling me," said Edward, clanking."And all those nasty letters from the Board! I was starting to worry that I'd have to go down to the crypt and see if I could find our old Master, the ancient Vampire Lord, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to get back up again, with my joints."
"I'll get you some oil for them tomorrow," said the guardian absently.
"Oil won't help. I've rusted solid all through the knees." The magical suit of armor sighed. "Well, it wouldn't have mattered. We'd need blood to bring him back, and I don't think you've got much in you."
"I've got plenty of blood," said the guardian, peering out the peephole
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