ABOUT THE BOOK
Narine of Noe (Faerie Tales from the White Forest Book Four)
Narine of Noe should have had her whole life to train to take her father’s place as High Sage. But when a mysterious force falls from the skies, sending the world into elemental chaos and her father into mortal danger, the fate of every living creature lands on her shoulders . . . including that of the Eternal Dragon. Without the Dragon it is impossible to regain the Balance of All Things. An elaborate plan to save the world must be hatched, and Narine is forced to take charge in a world gone mad. Before the White Forest was born, before the Great World Cry, the story that started it all. . .
Praise for Narine of Noe and the White Forest series A charming, magical journey... ~Cassandra Rose Clarke, Author, The Assassin's Curse series
Dinsmore weaves a coming of age story through a world that is both fantastic and believable. ~Rise Reviews
I was hooked before I finished the first chapter . . . I fell in love with Narine and you will, too. ~Brenna D'Amico, actor, Disney’s Descendants
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Danika Dinsmore is an award-winning author, performance artist, and educator. Over the past 25 years she has developed content for the page, stage, screen, and web. Danika currently works in literary and speculative fiction with an emphasis on juvenile & young adult literature. Author of children’s fantasy adventure series FAERIE TALES FROM THE WHITE FOREST, she often takes her interactive Imaginary Worlds Tour on the road, performing and teaching world-building & creative writing at schools, conferences, and festivals across North America.
FIND OUT MORE: Read an Excerpt below and enjoy a quick introduction to Narine's word!
Don't forget there's a giveaway at the end!
Narine fidgeted onstage, facing the gathered Assembly and guests. Several hundred bodies filled the Great Hall as she and six other Mentee selects stood waiting for their official Keeper assignments. Their Life Tasks.
Sweating under her heavy ceremonial cloak, she reached over her shoulder and scratched at the top of her right wing. When she became High Sage, she decided, she’d get rid of these ridiculous costumes.
She glanced down at Mabbe, the shorter, darker faerie by her side, who swam inside her own thick green carpet of material, her brown and orange wings poking out the back like webbed tree limbs. Mabbe nodded toward the ceiling. Narine looked up at the piercing blue day beyond the crystal dome.
We should be outside, Narine thought into Mabbe’s mind.
This ceremony is so long, Mabbe thought back, we could have flown to the Standing Stones by now.
Narine stifled a laugh. Applause erupted in the room and she composed herself, dutifully clapping along. Mabbe elbowed her.
Narine elbowed Mabbe back. What?
Mabbe nodded toward center stage. They called your name.
Narine whirled to her left to face the line of Sages and Transition Mentors. Sage Shonore of Carraiglenn, the first non-faerie to ever preside over the Transition Ceremony, beckoned her across the stage. Cheeks red with embarrassment, Narine strode up to her, palms pressed together in front of her chest. When she reached Shonore, she opened her hands and held them up, cupped, as if to feel for rain.
“I offer my service,” said Narine, “as a Keeper of Faweh.”
Shonore stepped back, hooves clacking against the wooden floor, and Narine’s father, High Sage Thorze, appeared in her place. He placed his hands together and then offered them up to Narine, his crystal grey-blue eyes shining.
“I offer you Mentorship through our Transition,” his deep voice resonated from within his solid body, “and the Dragon’s Gift when my service is complete.”
Thorze held up his scepter as Shonore stepped forward again. She clapped her front hooves together and beamed down with wide brown eyes.
“Narine of Noe,” she said, “by consensus of the Sages of Noe, and by authority of the Eternal Dragon, you are hereby Transition Matched with Thorze of Noe, High Sage and Keeper of the Elements.”
Narine took her father’s scepter in both hands. They held it together between them, grinning at each other briefly before composing themselves.
“Thorze of Noe,” continued Shonore, “do you accept this Transition Match?”
“Indeed I do,” he boomed. A smattering of laughter danced around the room.
Shonore bowed to Thorze and Narine, her thick mane spilling over her knobby horns. Father and daughter, Sage and Mentee, turned to the audience and approached the front of the stage together, holding the scepter between them. Narine fought with the bottom of her robe, kicking it out with her right foot. She caught sight of her mother’s angular face in the front row. She stopped kicking and lowered her eyes.
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