Publication date: May 6, 2014
Publisher: Month9Books, LLC.
Author: Jackie Morse Kessler
To Bear an Iron Key is the first in a new and exciting series from acclaimed author Jackie Morse Kessler.
Five years ago, the young witch Bromwyn refused a gift from the powerful fairy king. Tonight, on Midsummer, that decision comes back to haunt her. When her best friend Rusty picks the wrong pocket, he and Bromwyn are all that stand between their village and the rampaging fairies who have pushed through the World Door. If they cannot outwit the fairy king and queen before the World Door closes at sunrise, the friends will lose everything—their village, Bromwyn's magic, and Rusty's life.
From To Bear an Iron Key by Jackie Morse Kessler: "Bromwyn turned to face the burning fields. Reaching deep inside of herself, she closed her eyes and touched the core of her power, the place where her magic lived, where it connected her to all of Nature. She held onto that magic, let it fill her almost to the bursting point, and then she cast it out onto the fields. It blanketed the rows of spelt, and she felt as it rode the wind—Air—and then touched the grain—Earth—and then sizzled around the fire."
Link to Goodreads:
ABOUT JACKIE MORSE KESSLER:
Jackie is the author of the acclaimed YA series Riders of the Apocalypse, published by Harcourt/Graphia. The first two books in the quartet, HUNGER and RAGE, are YALSA Quick Picks for Reluctant Readers; in addition, HUNGER has been nominated for several awards and RAGE is an International Reading Association YA Choice. RAGE, LOSS and BREATH are Junior Library Guild selections
Behind the Scenes With Rusty
So I have to make this quick, because my Mam and Da’ll notice that I’ve snuck away from the bakery before all the ovens were cleaned, and they’ll be sure to make me too sore to sit for a week if they find out I’m here talking to you when there’s work to be done. So, quick then:
No matter what Winnie says, it’s not my fault.
Oh, I know that Bromwyn Darkeyes is Lady Witch and all, and her temper runs hotter than the fire at the forge. Just because she’s a powerful witch doesn’t mean she’s always right. Usually right, maybe. Always? No.
So just because she would insist that I shouldn’t have picked that pocket on Midsummer’s Eve, that doesn’t mean that everything that happened as a result of it was my fault. How was I to know what events would occur? Am I the village cartomancer, able to see the future in swirls of paint on hard-backed cards? No, I’m just Derek Jonasson, called Rusty for my red hair—the baker’s son and forced into life of punching dough and hauling sacks of flour.
Besides, it’s not my fault that some people leave their valuables unprotected in their pockets. If it’s that important to them, they should lock it up. If it’s in a wide pocket, well, it’s practically begging to be stolen.
And that’s exactly what happened. I was set up, I tell you. Everything that happened with the fey—don’t call them “fairies,” especially not to their faces—had been planned from the start. Well, maybe not the bit with the Challenge, and what happened in the village that night, and everything with Winnie. But everything else? Planned. And not by me. I’m an innocent victim.
Can I help it if I have sticky fingers?