448 pages, 7.85 × 5.05 × 1.25 in
May 1, 2007
The following ISBNs are associated with this title:
ISBN - 10: 0141320346
ISBN - 13: 9780141320342
About the Book
A boy in an Oxford library touches a strange, centuries-old chest that is covered in images of mythical beasts, and can only be opened when the fangs of its serpent's-head clasp taste blood. As he feels the prick of the book, words begin to appear on the page--words no one but the boy can see.
Read from the Book
Blake checked his watch—thirty-six minutes—and sighed.He tried walking backwards now, tapping the books in reverse order, to see if this would help pass the time. A series of stern-looking portraits glared down at him from the walls. Like magicians, they were dressed in dark capes and had sharp, pointy beards. Elaborate ruffs, like squashed chrysanthemums, burst from their collars. The older men had jaded eyes and tortoise-like skin, but there were also a few pale-faced boys like himself. He glanced at their nameplates: Thomas Sternhold (1587–1608); Jeremiah Wood (1534–1609); Isaac Wilkes (1616–37); Lucius St. Boniface de la Croix (1599–1666). Each man was holding a small book and pointing to a relevant passage with a forefinger, as though reminding future generations to remain studious and well-behaved.Blake disregarded their frowns of disapproval and continued running his fingers along the books, rapping the spines with the back of his knuckles.All of a sudden, he stopped. One of the volumes had struck him back! Like a cat, it had taken a playful swipe at his fingers and ducked back into hiding. He whisked his hand away, as though stung. He looked at his fingers, but couldn’t see anything unusual. They were smeared with dust, but there was no obvious mark or injury on his skin. Then he looked at the books to see which one had leaped out at him, but they all seemed pretty ordinary, too. Just row upon row of crumbly old volumes, like toy soldiers in leather uniforms standing
From the Publisher
"You've stumbled on to something much larger than you can possibly imagine."
In the dead of night, a cloaked figure drags a heavy box through snow-covered streets. The chest, covered in images of mythical beasts, can only be opened when the fangs of its serpent's-head clasp taste blood.
Centuries later, in an Oxford library, a boy touches a strange book and feels something pierce his finger. The volume is blank, wordless, but its paper has fine veins running through it and seems to quiver, as if it's alive. Words begin to appear on the page--words no one but the boy can see.
And so unfolds a timeless secret . . . .
About the Author
Matthew Skelton was born in England and grew up in Canada. He has a Ph.D. in English Literature from Oxford University. Endymion Spring is his debut novel. The author lives in UK and Canada.
“[Endymion Spring] may give Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code a run for its money. . . .
It is unputdownable.”–The Irish Independent