Tempests and slaughter A Tortall legend

Review by Booklist Review

Readers of the Immortals quartet, one of Pierce's earliest endeavors, are well aware of the mystery that surrounds Numair Salmalín, powerful mage and teacher-turned-lover of heroine Daine. But before he was Numair, he was 10-year-old Arram Draper, a promising mage student who, at school, befriends two other aspiring mages: Varice, whose beauty and kitchen-magic skills often cause her not to be taken seriously, despite her intelligence, and Ozorne, an ambitious prince with no real chance at inheriting the Carthaki throne. Over the first four years of their education, the three develop a strong friendship, and Arram learns magic, speaks with gods, and wrestles with his dislike of some Carthaki customs, like slavery and gladiator fights. Readers eager for action will have to wait for the next volume, as the tale of Arram's infamous exile is yet to come, but this slice-of-life examination of his early years does much to unravel the secrets of his history. For fans of Pierce and there are legions it's not one to be missed. HIGH-DEMAND BACKSTORY: Pierce has been penning best-sellers for decades, and this return to one of her most beloved series comes with a major national advertising campaign.--Reagan, Maggie Copyright 2017 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

In the intriguing first book of Pierce's Numair Chronicles, set in the medieval fantasy world of her Tortall books, she provides an in-depth look into the magical education and youth of Arram Draper, who later becomes the powerful mage Numair Salmalín. At age 10, Arram is the youngest mage in his class at the Imperial University of Carthak. His raw talent or Gift is enormous and difficult for him to control; it both gets him into trouble and gets him noticed. He quickly makes friends with his roommate, prince Ozorne Tasikhe, and the lovely and kind Varice Kingsford. Although Pierce touches on weighty subjects including slavery and the environment, they're balanced by the relatively lighthearted adventures of Arram and his new friends. She makes the most of the university setting, hinting at possible conflict ahead by way of Ozorne's wish to avenge his father's death. Pierce's many fans will thrill to discover the backstory behind one of their favorite characters. Ages 12-up. Agent: Craig Tenney, Harold Ober Associates. (Feb.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

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Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 9 Up-Arram Draper has a difficult time fitting in and being taken seriously at the School for Mages due to his young age. When he makes friends with sociable Varice and Orzone, the "leftover prince," he finally gains acceptance among his peers. The trio quickly become inseparable even as they advance in school and talent. While at times, Arram is concerned by the depth of his powers, they also provide him with opportunities (as well as trouble in the form of a stolen Sunbird). In a world where Gods talk to mortals and members of the royal family keep mysteriously dying, Arram has to figure out who he should and shouldn't trust. The first in the series, this is a lavish fantasy that provides a history of the previously established character, Numair Salmalín, when he was young and just learning his powers. Reoccurring themes of puberty and growing sexuality appear throughout the novel along with hints of romance. Taking place in Carthak at the Imperial University, the book's introductory map provides detail of Tortall and neighboring realms. Each chapter begins with the time period and sections are accompanied by class schedules to show what Arram is studying. Quick and detailed pacing keeps the story moving along while educating both Arram and readers. Pierce has created an elaborate world with characters who realistically grow, learn, and change based on experiences. VERDICT A must for readers who enjoy beautiful prose and well-developed fantasy; recommended for all fans of Pierce's previous work.-Rebecca Greer, Hillsborough County Public Library Cooperative, FL © Copyright 2017. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Horn Book Review

Arram, a young and powerful mage student at the Imperial University of Carthak, befriends Varice and Ozorne, two similarly powerful students. But Ozorne's status as the "leftover prince" (third in line to the throne) means dark undercurrents swirl around them. This entertaining magic-school story, first in a series, mixes school high jinks with more sinister forces, making for a quick, engrossing read. (c) Copyright 2018. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

Pierce's new prequel series chronicles the beginnings of one of Tortall's greatest mages.At the Imperial University of Carthak, 10-year-old Arram (aka Numair Salmaln in later life) is brimming with power. When he accidentally floods a classroom with an unusually strong water spell, he is moved up to more advanced studies. He promptly makes two new friends, the charming Varice and the prince Ozorne. Pierce immerses readers in Arram's day-to-day life as he ages, builds relationships with powerful mage instructors, encounters gods, and awakens to the brutality around himespecially as it relates to slavery. Sometimes lagging, the novel never comes to much of a climax, but Pierce slowly builds tension throughout for future conflict. As Arram comes into his power and Ozorne begins a dark ascent to the throne, their destinies become more tightly intertwined, for better or for worse. Hailing from different regions, Pierce's characters are diverse (Arram is brown, and Varice and Ozorne are white). However, with his focus so deeply on his studies, Arram's tunnel vision makes it difficult to gain a good understanding of the world beyond the university's walls. Even as the theme of slavery is prominently woven throughout the novel, Arram's scope of it is limited. But, with more to come in the series, there is still room for development.Anyone can jump into the Numair Chronicles, but the novel will especially appeal to fans of the Tortall books. (Fantasy. 12-adult) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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Chapter 1     August 30-September 1, 435     The Imperial Coliseum, Thak City, The Carthaki Empire     Arram Draper hung on the rail of the great arena, hoisting himself until his belly was bent over the polished stone. It was the only way he could get between the two bulky men who blocked his view. He knew it was risky, but he couldn't waste his first chance to see the gladiators when they marched into the huge stadium. His father and grandfather were back at their seats, arguing about new business ventures. They weren't paying attention, waving him off when he asked to visit the privies and never realizing he'd squirmed his way down to the rail instead.   Apart from them, he was alone. There were no friends from school for company. They all said he was too young. He was eleven--well, ten, in truth, but he told them he was eleven. Even that didn't earn him friends among his older schoolfellows. Still, he wasn't a baby! If he didn't see the games with his family today, he might never get the chance, and he'd learned only last night he might not see Papa again for two years, even three. Carthak was a costly voyage for Yusaf Draper, and his new venture would take him away for a long time. But in the morning, Arram would be able to tell the older students that he had watched the games right from the arena wall!   Already he'd heard the trumpets and drums announcing the arrival of the emperor and his heirs. He couldn't see their faces, but surely all the sparkling gold, silver, and gems meant the wearers were part of the imperial family. He could see the Grand Crier, who stood on a platform halfway between him and the royals. More important, he could plainly hear the man's booming voice as he announced the emperor's many titles and those of his heirs.   "Lookit!" The bruiser on Arram's left bumped him as he pointed north, to the emperor's dais. Arram wobbled and might have pitched headfirst onto the sands twenty feet below if the man on his other side hadn't caught him by the belt and hauled him inside the rail. Without appearing to notice Arram's near fall, the man on the left went on to say, "There's the widow, and her son! She never comes to games!"   "Who's the widow?" Arram asked. "Who's the son?"   The big men grinned at each other over his head. "For all you're a brown boy, you don't know your imperials," said the one who had bumped him. "The widow is Princess Mahira, that was married to Prince Apodan."   "He was killed fightin' rebels two year back," the other man said. "An' the boy is Prince Ozorne."   Now Arram remembered. Ozorne was a year or two ahead of him in the Lower Academy.   From the podium, the crier bellowed that the emperor would bless the games. Everyone thundered to their feet and then hushed. His voice amplified, most likely by a mage, the emperor prayed to the gods for an excellent round of games. When he finished, everyone sat.   For a very long moment the arena was still. Then the boy felt a slow, regular thudding rise through the stone and up his legs. His body shuddered against the railing. Nearby, in the wall that took up a third of the southern end of the arena, huge barred gates swung inward.   Here came drummers and trumpeters, clad only in gold-trimmed scarlet loincloths. Their oiled bodies gleamed as brightly as the polished metal of their instruments. The brawny men represented every race of the empire in the colors of their skin and hair and the tattoos on their faces and bodies. One thing they had in common: iron slave rings around their throats.   Arram rubbed his own throat uneasily. His original home, Tyra, was not a slave country. Three years in Carthak had not made him comfortable with the practice, not when there were no slaves at his school. He saw them only when he was outside, and the sight of them made him edgy.   The leader of the musicians raised his staff. The trumpeters let loose a blare that made Arram jump, almost tipping him over the rail. The men caught him again.   "You're best off at your seat," the friendly one advised. "Ain't your mamma callin' yeh?"   "I'm eleven," Arram lied. "I don't need a mother--I'm a student at the School for Mages!"   The men's laughter was drowned out by a thunder of drumrolls. Arram gave the sands what he called his special, magical squint. Now he saw waves of spells all over the arena floor. They sent ripples through the air, carrying the arena's noise even to the people in the seats high above.   "Why do they allow spells on the arena sand?" he shouted at the friendlier of the two men. As far as he knew, magic was forbidden here. Perhaps they allowed only their own magic, just as they allowed the emperor's magic.   "What spells?" the man bellowed. He reached over Arram's head and tapped his friend as the musicians marched past. "The lad thinks there's magic on the sands!"   The other roughneck looked down his flattened nose at Arram. A couple of scars on his face told the boy he may have come by that nose in fighting. "What're you, upstart?" he growled. "Some kind of mage?"   "Of course I am!" Arram retorted. "Didn't you hear me say I'm in the School for Mages?"   "He's simple," the friendlier man said. "Leave 'im be. Who're you bettin' on?"   The other man seized Arram by the collar and lifted him into the air. "If you're a mage, spell me, then," he growled. "Turn me into somethin', before I break yer skinny neck for botherin' us."   "Don't be stupid!" Arram cried. His mind, as always, had fixed on the question of magic. "Only a great mage can turn a person into something else! Even--"   His foe choked off Arram's next comment--that he might never be a great mage--by turning his fist to cut off the boy's voice entirely. "Stupid, am I?" he shouted, his eyes bulging. "You moneyed little piece of tripe--"   Arram might have corrected him concerning the state of his pocketbook, but he couldn't breathe and had finally remembered a teacher's advice: "You don't make friends when you tell someone you think he is stupid." He was seeing light bursts against a darkening world. He called up the first bit of magic he'd ever created, after a walk on a silk carpet brought flame to his fingers. He drew that magic from the sands and seized the fist on his collar.   The tough yelped and released Arram instantly. "You! What did you do to me?"   Arram couldn't answer. He hit the rail and went over backward, arms flailing. Excerpted from Tempests and Slaughter by Tamora Pierce All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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