The magic thief

Sarah Prineas

Book - 2008

A young thief is drawn into a life of magic and adventure after picking the pocket of the powerful wizard Nevery Flinglas, who has returned from exile to attempt to reverse the troubling decline of magic in Wellmet City.

Saved in:

Children's Room Show me where

jFICTION/Prineas, Sarah
1 / 2 copies available

Young Adult Area Show me where

YOUNG ADULT FICTION/Prineas, Sarah
1 / 1 copies available
Location Call Number   Status
Children's Room jFICTION/Prineas, Sarah Checked In
Children's Room jFICTION/Prineas, Sarah Due Feb 15, 2025
Young Adult Area YOUNG ADULT FICTION/Prineas, Sarah Checked In
Subjects
Published
New York : HarperCollinsPublishers 2008.
Language
English
Main Author
Sarah Prineas (-)
Other Authors
Antonio Javier Caparó (illustrator)
Edition
First edition
Physical Description
419 pages : illustrations, map
Audience
680L
ISBN
9781442020344
9780061375873
9780061375903
9780061375880
Contents unavailable.
Review by Booklist Review

*Starred Review* Young Conn opens the first volume of this new trilogy, noting  A thief is a lot like a wizard.   Conn is a thief but, through desire and inevitability, becomes a wizard by book's end. This evolution begins when Conn picks the pocket of the wizard Nevery, who is startled that the nicked magical stone didn't kill the boy. Nevery takes on Conn as a servant, but the boy's inquisitiveness and talents move him to apprentice status. Nevery has recently returned to Willmet to save the city-state, which is faltering as its magic seeps away. As Conn becomes more enmeshed in his new life, he navigates through the intricate dealings of both the wizarding world and the political machinations of the Underlord. The events are not as lively as in some middle-grade fantasies though Conn's turn as a cat is delightful, and his search for his own stone is very well played. What works wonderfully well here is the boy's irresistible voice, which is supplemented by the writings of Nevery in his journal, its creased and stained pages appearing as apart of the design. Readers will particularly enjoy the way Conn often knows just a little more than his master, and they'll look forward to seeing how much more he learns as the series progresses.--Cooper, Ilene Copyright 2008 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

Readers clamoring for magical tales will enjoy Prineas's fast-paced first novel, the opener of a promising trilogy. Conn-waer, a preteen pickpocket, steals the locus magicalicus from the most revered and powerful wizard in the city of Wellmet. Recently returned from banishment, Nevery Flinglas is not angered by the boy's thievery, just surprised the stone's power didn't kill the orphan. Accordingly, Nevery takes him on as a potential apprentice and offers him refuge in his crumbling home. Soon, Conn must enroll in wizard school, find his own magical stone and help his master determine the cause of Wellmet's diminishing magic while avoiding some unsavory characters. Prineas depicts Conn, the narrator, as refreshingly candid and a quick study while revealing Nevery as insightful and unexpectedly caring. Interspersed throughout and printed to look like facsimiles, Nevery's journal entries and correspondence offer intriguing counterpoint to Conn's perspective; sketches of characters and places, incorporated on the first page of each chapter, also lighten the lengthy text. The magical fireworks do not explode until the end, leaving readers confident that Prineas will turn up the heat in the next installment. Ages 10-up. (June) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved All rights reserved.

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 5-8-Thinking he is stealing from a wealthy old man, street urchin Conn steals Wizard Nevery's "locus magicalicus," a magic stone that, according to the rules of magic, should have killed the boy. When it doesn't, Nevery takes Conn with him and eventually agrees to make him his apprentice if he finds his own stone within 30 days. Conn studies magic and tries to find the stone, while Nevery searches for the cause of the ebbing of magic from the land of Wellmet that is weakening the city. The two quests converge when Conn must use and destroy his newly claimed locus stone to defeat the device the Underlord has created to imprison Wellmet's magic. Narrator Greg Steinbruner's British accent suits Sarah Prineas's fantasy (HarperCollins, 2008), and he gives consistent and appropriate voices to the various characters, though the voice of Conn seems strained and tight at first. While his pacing is somewhat halting at times, listeners will not notice it as they become involved in the story. This first title of a projected trilogy will be popular with fantasy fans.-Louise L. Sherman, formerly Anna C. Scott School, Leonia, NJ (c) Copyright 2010. 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.
Review by Horn Book Review

(Intermediate) Precocious Conn becomes a wizard's apprentice when he pickpockets a locus magicalicus stone off of "bent, bearded, cloak-wearing old croakety croak" Nevery Flinglas and, to the wizard's astonishment, isn't killed. Despite Conn's mysterious affinity for magic, one thing stands in the way of his new status -- he doesn't possess a locus magicalicus of his own. Searching through the neighborhoods of Sunrise (affluent) and Twilight (a slum), Conn picks up information useful to his new master, who's trying to stem the catastrophic loss of magic from the city of Wellmet. An amiable tale akin to that of another well-known boy wizard, The Magic Thief sports a large font and generous leading; young readers will also find the familiar character types and straightforward plotting easy to grasp, while the evolving conflicts and distinctive setting draw them on.From HORN BOOK, (c) Copyright 2010. 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.
Review by Kirkus Book Review

An uncommonly engaging young narrator kicks this debut fantasy ahead of the general run. Street-rat Connwaer's skill at picking locks and pockets comes back to bite him when he tries to steal the "locus magicalicus" talisman of gruff sorcerer Nevery Flinglas. Suddenly, Conn finds himself apprenticed to the magician, searching for a locus magicalicus of his own (all magicians have to have one), and deeply involved in discovering why all magic is rapidly draining out of the town of Wellmet. Canny, a quick study and endowed with a heroic appetite for biscuits, Conn works his way into the hearts of both his master and the mystery, meeting several memorable characters--notably Benet, a surly hired thug who can cook and knit as well as he can break heads--along the way to a literally explosive climax. All in all a sturdy start, illustrated with Caparo's realistic portraits at the chapter heads and reminiscent of Angie Sage's Septimus Heap tales (Queste, 2008, etc.) in style and setting. (map; glossary, runes and biscuit recipe not seen) (Fantasy. 10-13) Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Magic Thief, The RB/SB Chapter One A thief is a lot like a wizard. I have quick hands. And I can make things disappear. But then I stole the wizard's locus magicalicus and nearly disappeared myself forever. It was a late night in the Twilight, black-dark as the inside of a burglar's bag. The streets were deserted. A sooty fog crept up from the river, and the alleyways echoed with shadows. Around me I felt the city, echoing and empty, desolate and dead. The cobblestones under my bare feet were slick with the evening's rain. No luck that day for my quick, pocket-pick hands, and I hadn't managed to filch my supper or a bit of copper to buy it with. I was hollow with hunger. I might have tried somewhere else, except that the Underlord had a word out on me, and his minions would beat the fluff out of me if they could. Keeping an eye out, I lurked in an alleyway. At dusk, the shift had changed at the factories along the river, and the workers had trudged by, up the hill to their tenements, and I hadn't even bothered to try them. They never had any spare money. Now it was late. The rain started up again, not a hard rain, but a cold one, just enough to get into your bones and make you shiver. A good night for misery eels. I hunched into my lurking spot and thought about warm dinners. Then I heard it. Step step tap. Step step tap. I edged back into my alley shadows to wait, and along he came. Old man, I thought. A bent, bearded, cloak-wearing old croakety croak leaning on a cane. Climbing the steep street toward me. Muttering to himself. His purse, I decided, would be paying for my dinner, though he didn't know it yet. At my corner, he paused. Fog smoked around him. He lifted his head, and I saw the gleam of a keen-eyed glance beneath his wide-brimmed hat. Nobody here, I thought. Just us shadows. He lowered his head and went on. Step step tap. Step step tap. I was a shadow, a breath of air, light-feather fingers and--quick hands--I ghosted up behind him, dipped into his cloak pocket, grabbed what I found within, and was gone. Away clean. Or so I thought. The old man went on, not noticing a thing, and I slipped back into my alley and opened my hand to see what I'd got for my trouble. Maybe enough for a nice roast pork dinner, a few potatoes with pepper, some pie for afters. Even in the shadows, the thing I'd stolen was darker than dark, and though it was small, a stone no bigger than a baby's fist, it was heavier than the heart of a man on his way to the gallows tree. It was a magical thing. The wizard's locus magicalicus. As I stared down at the wizardly stone, it started to glow. Soft at first, with the red warmth of coals in a winter hearth. Then, a sudden fierce flash of lightning and the alley was alive with dancing, flashing light, the shadows fleeing like frightened black cats. I heard the wizard coming back. Step step tap. Step step tap. Quickly I fisted the stone and shoved it down deep into my pocket. Darkness fell again. As I turned, blinking the brights from my eyes to look, the old man came tip-tapping around my corner, and, reaching out with a big hand, grabbed me by the shoulder. "Well, boy," he said. His voice was strong and gravelly. I stood still. I know trouble when it grabs me. The old man looked down at me with keen-glancing eyes. Silence for a long, dark moment. In my pocket, the stone weighed and warmed. Then he said, "You look hungry." Well, yes. I was. Carefully, cautiously, I nodded. "Then I will buy you some dinner," the old man said. "Roast pork, perhaps? Potatoes and pie?" I swallowed. He hadn't realized I'd nicked his focus locus stone, had he? Would I go with him, then? Eat a good dinner against the cold and wet night? My head was telling me this was not a good idea. The old man was a wizard, clear as clear, and what kind of fool sits down to eat dinner with a wizard? But my empty-since-yesterday stomach was telling me even louder that it wanted pork and peppered potatoes and pie. It told me to nod and I did. "Well then," the old man wizard said. "The chophouse on the corner is still open." He let me go and started step-tapping down the street, and I went with him. "I am Nevery," he said. "And your name?" Telling wizards your name is generally not a good idea. I didn't answer. Just walked along beside him. Carefully, so Nevery couldn't see, I put my hand into my pocket. The locus stone fit smoothly into my palm, heavy and warm. With the stone in my hand, the night felt less cold and damp, my stomach less empty. The wizard seemed to be looking ahead to the chophouse on the corner, but I caught a glimpse of his keen-gleam eyes, watching me from under the brim of his hat. The chophouse was lit by a coal fire in the hearth and was empty except for its keeper. "Dinner," the wizard ordered, and held up two fingers. The chophouse keeper nodded and went to fetch the food. We settled at a table, me with my back against the wall, Nevery blocking my way to the door. "Well, boy," the wizard said, taking off his hat. In the brighter light I saw that his eyes were black and his hair, beard, and eyebrows silver gray. Beneath his dark gray cloak, he wore black trousers and a black frock coat with a velvet collar and an embroidered black waistcoat, all of it just a bit shabby, as if he'd once had more money than he did now. He leaned his gold-knobbed cane against the table. "A cold, wet night for travelers, is it not?" A cold, wet night for anyone, I thought. I nodded. He looked at me. I looked back.... Magic Thief, The RB/SB . Copyright © by Sarah Prineas . Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from The Magic Thief by Sarah Prineas, Antonio Javier Caparo 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.