Brain Candy Sale

Special Offers see all

Enter to WIN a $100 Credit

Subscribe to
for a chance to win.
Privacy Policy

Visit our stores

    Recently Viewed clear list

    Lists | October 5, 2015

    Zachary Thomas Dodson: IMG 10 Books That Will Change Your Mind about Bats

    Bats are a much-maligned animal. Long thought of as creepy or evil or diseased, a closer look reveals that the wide variety of bat species also... Continue »
    1. $19.57 Sale Hardcover add to wish list

Qualifying orders ship free.
List price: $9.99
Used Trade Paper
Ships in 1 to 3 days
Add to Wishlist
Qty Store Section
1 Beaverton Children's- Science Fiction and Fantasy
2 Burnside Children's Young Adult- General

His Fair Assassin Trilogy #01: Grave Mercy


His Fair Assassin Trilogy #01: Grave Mercy Cover




Chapter One: A Grand Fete

The lace on my party frock itched horribly. I dont understand how they can make things as complex as motorcars or machines that fly but cant invent itchless lace. Although Mother didnt seem to be plagued with this problem, I would have to pay close attention to the other ladies at the reception this evening to see if they exhibit any symptoms.

“Youre surprisingly quiet, Theodosia,” Father said, interrupting my thoughts.

“Surprisingly”? Whatever did he mean by that, I wonder? “I would have thought youd be chattering a mile a minute about Lord Chudleighs reception.” Tonight was to be my big introduction to professional life. And I planned to savor every second of it. I would be the first eleven-year-old girl ever to walk in their midst. What if they should ask me to make a speech? Wouldnt that be grand? I would stand there, with all eyes on me—keepers and lords and sirs and all sorts of fancy folk—and then I would . . . have to say something. Maybe having to speak wouldnt be such a great idea after all. Mother put her gloved hand on Fathers arm. “Shes most likely nervous, Alistair. The only young girl among so many important dignitaries and officials? I would have been tongue-tied at her age.” Well. That wasnt very comforting. Maybe I should have been more nervous than I was. The carriage turned a corner and my stomach dipped uneasily.

We reached Lord Chudleighs residence in Mayfair, a large red brick mansion with white columns and windowpanes. At the door, a butler bowed and greeted Father by name. Then we were motioned inside, where we joined an absolutely mad throng of people, all dressed in fine frocks and evening coats. There were marble floors, and the hallway sported Greek columns. Actually, the whole place had the touch of a museum about it: Grecian urns, a bust of Julius Caesar, and even a full coat of armor standing at attention. Suddenly I was glad of all that itchy lace—otherwise I would have felt dreadfully underdressed. I slipped my hand into Mothers. “Lord Chudleighs house is even grander than Grandmother Throckmortons,” I whispered. “Dont let her hear you say that,” Father said.

“How could she possibly hear me?” I scoffed. “Shes miles away in her own grand house.” The look on Fathers face gave me pause. “Isnt she?” I asked hesitantly.

“Im afraid not.” His tone was clipped, as if he wasnt very happy about it, either. “She moves in the same social circles as Lord Chudleigh.” That was the sort of news that could ruin an entire evening. One might think that was a bit of an overstatement, if one didnt know my grandmother. I stared out at the crowd of people, desperate to spot Grandmother. If I saw her first, it would make avoiding her all that much easier.

Although really, I oughtnt worry, I told myself as we moved into the enormous ballroom. I was on my best behavior and had no intention of drawing any unpleasant attention to myself. Not even Grandmother would be able to find fault with me tonight. Except she believes children in general, and me in particular, should be seen as little as possible and heard even less. Just my being here would be an enormous affront to her sense of propriety.

Music played in the background, but people werent dancing—they just stood about talking and drinking champagne. We weaved our way among the guests until a tall man who looked vaguely familiar waved us over. Father immediately altered his course and began herding Mother and me in that direction.

When we reached the gentleman, he leaned forward and thumped Father on the back. “Its about time you showed up, Throckmorton. At least you had the good sense to bring your lovely wife.” Mum put her hand out, but instead of shaking it, the man lifted it to his lips and kissed it! Hed better not try that with me, was all I could think. Luckily, he didnt. In fact, he ignored me until Father cleared his throat and put his hand on my shoulder. “And this is my daughter, Theodosia, Lord Chudleigh. The one we spoke about.” “Ah yes!” Lord Chudleigh bent over and peered down at me. “Our newest little archaeologist, eh? Following in your mothers footsteps, are you, girl? Well done.” He reached out and patted me on the head. Like a pet. Im sorry, but you simply dont go around patting people on the head like dogs!

Father tightened his hand on my shoulder in silent warning. “So. Whats all this I keep hearing about an artifact of your own?” Chudleigh looked smug. “After you came rushing home in such a hurry, I had to make a quick run down to Thebes to secure the site.” Father winced slightly. “So youve mentioned.” Under his breath he added, “Three times.” Then, louder, “Im terribly sorry about that. If my son hadnt been so ill . . .” “Eh, it felt good to get out into the field and get a taste of what you do.” Chudleigh nudged Father with hhhhhis elbow. “I got a chance to find a little something of my own down there, too. Standing in plain sight, it was. Dont know why you and your wife didnt send it straight along with the first batch. In fact, I have a treat for everyone tonight.” He puffed up his chest and rocked back on his heels. “In honor of my most recent find, were going to have a mummy unwrapping!” A mummy unwrapping! My stomach recoiled at the very idea. Didnt he understand that mummification was a very sacred death rite of the ancient Egyptians? That unwrapping a mummy would be the same as undressing his grandfathers dead body? “Sir,” I began, but Fathers hand pressed down on my shoulder again. Surely I was going to be bruised black and blue from all this hand clamping.

“Fascinating, sir,” was all he said. “Well look forward to it.” “Good, good. Thought you might.” Chudleigh nodded. Father excused us, took Mothers and my elbows, and began to steer us away. Mum muttered under her breath, “I thought unwrappings went out with Queen Victoria.” I whirled around to Father when we were out of earshot. “Why didnt you say something? Thats desecration, isnt it?” “Yes, I suppose it is, Theodosia. But Im not personally responsible for every mummy that comes out of Egypt, you know. Besides, the mans on the museums board. I cant risk getting on his bad side, and telling him that unwrapping his new mummy is bad form would certainly do that.” I turned to Mother.

“Oh, no,” she said. “Dont look at me. Ive already got a hard enough row to hoe being a woman in this field. I cant afford any appearance of sentimentality or emotion.” Well, it had been worth a try. “Where do you think Chudleigh found the mummy? I never saw one in the tomb or annex. Did you?” “Well, no. But then again, I was preoccupied with getting you out of there safely. Now, lets get this wretched evening over with. Oomph!” Mother removed her elbow from Fathers ribs. “Tonights supposed to be a treat,” she reminded him.

Indeed, I had hoped for a lovely evening out with my parents. I had also hoped that my dressing up in fancy clothes and attending one of their social events might have allowed them to see me a little differently.

Or simply see me, rather than spend the entire evening looking over my head at other adults.

Pretending I hadnt heard them, I raised up on my tiptoes, trying to spot the mummy. I couldnt believe I would have overlooked a mummy lying about in plain sight, even if I had been being chased by the Serpents of Chaos. It was hopeless. There were too many people, all of whom were taller than I was. When I pulled my gaze back down, I found an elderly man examining me through his monocle as if I were a bug at the end of a pin. A very round woman dressed in mustard-colored ruffles lifted her lorgnette to the bridge of her nose, then tut-tutted. Honestly! Youd think theyd never seen an eleven- year-old girl before.

“I suppose wed best go pay our respects to Mother.” Father made the suggestion with the same enthusiasm he might have shown for leaping off the London Bridge straight into the foul, icy water of the river Thames.

Which was precisely how I felt about seeing Grandmother, frankly. Luckily, the crowd shifted just then and I spied someone I recognized. “Oh look, Father! Theres Lord Snowthorpe.” And although he wasnt one of my favorite people, he was standing next to one of my favorite people, Lord Wigmere. Only, I wasnt supposed to know Wigmere even existed, as he was the head of the Brotherhood of the Chosen Keepers, a secret organization whose sworn duty was to keep watch over all the sacred objects and artifacts in the country. Because the British Empire had amassed quite a few relics and ensorcelled items, it was quite a job. It was the Brotherhood that stood between our country and any of that ancient magic getting loose and wreaking horror upon us. Well, them and me, that is. I waved at the two men.

“No, Theo!” Father hissed. “I dont wish to speak to—” “Throckmorton!” Lord Snowthorpe called out.

“Oh, blast it all. Now look what youve done.” Didnt Father realize that Snowthorpe was a hundred times better than Grandmother? Besides, I was hoping one of these gentlemen might be as repulsed by the mummy unwrapping as we were. Since they didnt work for Lord Chudleigh, perhaps they could put a stop to it.

When we reached Snowthorpe, Lord Wigmere winked at me, then ever so slightly shook his head, letting me know I wasnt to let on I knew him. I winked back. There were a lot of false hearty hellos and good-to-see-yous exchanged, then Snowthorpe got down to his real reason for wanting to say hello: nosiness. “I say, did that Heart of Egypt of yours ever turn up?” he asked.

Father stiffened, and Mother raised her nose into the air. “Im afraid not,” she said. “The burglar got clean away.” That was a subject I wouldnt mind avoiding for a while longer. Say, a lifetime. My parents had no idea that I had been the one to return the Heart of Egypt to its proper resting place in the Valley of the Kings. It had been the only way to nullify the dreadful curse the artifact had been infected with. Of course, Id had a bit of help from Wigmere and his Brotherhood of the Chosen Keepers. But my parents didnt know that, either.

“What was all that rot you fed me about having it cleaned, then?” Snowthorpe demanded.

“We . . .” Father turned to Mother with a desperate look on his face. She stared back, fumbling for something to say.

They couldnt have looked more guilty if they tried, so I spoke up. “The authorities had asked us to keep quiet until they made a few inquiries. They didnt want the perpetrators to catch wind of how much they knew or who they suspected.” Four pairs of eyes looked down at me in surprise. “Isnt that what they said, Father?” “Yes,” he said, recovering nicely. “Exactly what they said.” Wigmeres mustache twitched. “Do introduce me to this charming young lady, Throckmorton.” As if we needed any introduction! Wed only worked closely together on averting one of the worst crises ever to reach British soil. “Forgive me. Lord Wigmere, this is my daughter, Theodosia Throckmorton. Theodosia, this is Lord Wigmere, head of the Antiquarian Society.” I gave a proper curtsy. “Im very pleased to meet you, sir.” “And I you.” Before Snowthorpe could begin jawing on again about the Heart of Egypt, I decided to raise my concerns. “Have you heard what Lord Chudleighs planning for this evening?” I felt Father scowl at me, but I did my best to ignore him, which was rather difficult when his heated gaze threatened to burn a hole through my skull.

Snowthorpe brightened. “You mean the mummy unwrapping?” “Yes, but dont you think its wrong to do it as . . . entertainment?” Snowthorpe dismissed my words with a wave of his hand. “Gad no! Its good for business, that. People love mummies, and whenever their interest goes up, so do museum ticket sales.” “But isnt it desecration?” The pleasant expression left Snowthorpes face and he looked down at me, almost as if seeing me for the first time. “You sound just like Wigmere here. Hed have us ship all our artifacts back to Egypt if he had his way.” Well, certainly the cursed ones, anyway. I sent a beseeching look in Wigmeres direction, but he shook his head sympathetically. “I already tried and got nowhere. Chudleighs too intent on having his fun.” Disappointment spiked through me. I looked over my shoulder. The crowd had broken up a bit and I caught a glimpse of a table with guests clustered around it, but I still couldnt see the mummy itself.

Really, this fete of theirs was no fun at all. Not what I thought of as a proper party. I caught yet another old codger staring at me and realized that such scrutiny had made me beastly thirsty. I suddenly craved a glass of lemon smash or cold ginger beer. As I searched the crowd for the man with the refreshment tray, yet another old lady examined me through her opera glasses. I wrinkled my nose. Didnt these people realize how rude that was? The woman dropped her glasses, and I was dismayed to find myself staring into the shocked face of Grandmother Throckmorton! I quickly turned away, pretending I hadnt seen her.

Seconds later, a very stiff-looking footman appeared at Fathers side. “Madam wishes me to request you attend her immediately.” “What?” he asked, then caught sight of his mother. “Oh yes, of course!” He bid goodbye to Wigmere and Snowthorpe, then herded us over to where Grandmother was conversing with a rather short, barrel-shaped man. When we reached her, she offered up her cheek to Father for a kiss. He did so (grudgingly, Im sure), and then she turned to Mother and inclined her head slightly. “Henrietta.” “Madam.” Mother nodded back.

Grandmother ignored me completely. She still wasnt speaking to me for having run away while under her care. Even so, I wanted to prove I could be polite even if she couldnt and gave my very best curtsy. “How do you do, Grandmother? Its very good to see you again.” Grandmother sniffed in disapproval, then asked Father, “What is she doing here?” “Now, Mother. She did make a rather remarkable find, locating that secondary annex to Amenemhabs tomb. Lord Chudleigh suggested we bring her along to celebrate her first find for the museum.” “This is no place for children and her schedule is already far too irregular. If you cannot see to her proper upbringing, perhaps I shall take her to hand.” Grandmother studied me for a long moment, then continued. “Have you had any luck in locating a new governess for her?” Mother and Father exchanged guilty glances. I could tell theyd forgotten all about it. “Not yet. But well keep looking.” Mother missed the look of scorn Grandmother sent her way, but I didnt. I narrowed my eyes and glared at the old bat.

Except she was so busy ignoring me, she missed it and turned to the man standing beside her. I was left to stew on the idea of Grandmother overseeing my upbringing. I was torn between horror at the thought and fury at her treatment of Mother. “Alistair, Id like you to meet Admiral Sopcoate.” Admiral Sopcoate had a jolly face. He was quick to catch my eye, then smiled. I liked him immediately.

Admiral Sopcoate shook Fathers hand. “What is it you do, again, Throckmorton?” Father opened his mouth to respond, but Grandmother talked over him. “Hes the Head Curator of the Museum of Legends and Antiquities.” When Grandmother said nothing more, Father quickly stepped in. “And this is my wife, Henrietta. Shes the museums archaeologist and brings us a number of our most spectacular finds.” Grandmother sniffed.

“And this is my daughter, Theodosia,” Father continued.

Admiral Sopcoate reached out and took my hand. (No head patting or hand kissing here! I knew I liked him for a good reason.) “Pleased to meet you, my dear.” “And I you, sir.” Still determined to be on my best behavior, I added, “Perhaps youd like to come by and see our museum someday? Wed be happy to give you a tour.” Grandmothers eyes flared in irritation. She fixed me with a gaze that clearly said, Do not dare speak again in my presence, then turned back to the admiral. “We were just discussing Admiral Sopcoates newest addition to the home fleet, the Dreadnought.” “Yes! Have you seen her yet, Throckmorton?” Sopcoate asked.

“I cant say as I have,” Father said. “Although Ive read a bit about it in the paper.” “The Dreadnought is the newest crown jewel in Her Majestys fleet,” Sopcoate explained. “Makes every other battleship in the world obsolete.” “If you ask me,” Grandmother butted in, “we cant have enough battleships. Not with Germanys determination to become the worlds greatest naval power.” “Now, now, Lavinia,” Admiral Sopcoate reassured her. “The British Navy is twice as strong as the next two navies combined.” Lavinia! Hed called her by her Christian name! Id forgotten she even had one.

“Not if Germany has its way,” she answered darkly. “They are determined to challenge our naval supremacy.” “Dont worry.” Sopcoate gave a jolly wink. “Once those Germans see the Dreadnought, theyll put aside their misguided ideas of naval equality with England.” “But isnt that rather like baiting a bear?” Father asked. “How do you know they wont come out swinging, determined to build even more battleships of their own?” Couldnt grownups talk of anything but politics and war? I knew that the Germans and the British were on the outs with each other, but if you asked me—although no one did—that was mostly the fault of the Serpents of Chaos. They were a secret organization dedicated to bringing about disorder and strife in their quest to dominate the world. Specifically, they wanted Germany and Britain at each others throats. They wanted instability and utter chaos so they could move in and seize power. However, now that Wigmere and I had foiled their plans, this whole war-cry nonsense would surely die down.

Luckily, before the adults could go on too long, we were interrupted by a faint clinking sound. Lord Chudleigh was striking his champagne glass with a tiny fork. “Time has come, everyone. Gather round. Heres your chance to see a mummy unwrapped, the unveiling of the secrets of the Egyptians.” An excited murmur ran through the crowd, and everyone shuffled over to the table on which the mummy lay. I tugged on Fathers hand. “Do I have to watch, Father? Cant I wait over there?” He patted my shoulder. “Theres nothing to be afraid of, you know.” Of course I knew that! That wasnt the issue. It just seemed wrong to be unwrapping the poor mummy in front of all these gawking visitors who didnt give a fig about ancient Egypt or the scholarly pursuit of Egyptian burial practices.

As we drew closer, I made a point of hanging back behind Mother and Father, but then Admiral Sopcoate stepped aside. “Here, young lady. Come stand in front of me so you can see better. You dont want to miss this!” Of course, he was just being kind. I opened my mouth to say, “No thank you,” but caught Grandmothers eye. The warning glint told me that refusing wasnt an option. Biting back a sigh, I stepped forward and found myself in the front row, merely three feet away from the mummy on the table.

“This unidentified mummy was found inside the newly discovered tomb of Amenemhab,” Chudleigh went on. “Were hoping that by unwrapping him tonight, we will learn more about who he was, as well as insights into the mystery of mummification. Are you ready?” A wave of assent rose up from the gathering.

“Throckmorton, Snowthorpe, would you do the honors, please?” Father blinked in surprise. He quickly hid the look of distaste that spread across his face and stepped dutifully forward.

“Lets start from the feet, shall we?” Snowthorpe suggested.

I thought about closing my eyes, then wondered if Grandmother Throckmorton would be able to tell. Testing the theory, I screwed my eyes shut—just for the merest of seconds. Immediately there was a sharp poke in my shoulder blade and a disapproving sniff. I opened my eyes and thought briefly of handing her a handkerchief. Honestly! I didnt see how it was rude to close ones eyes but perfectly all right to sniff constantly, like one of those pigs that can root out truffles.

I turned my attention back to the front, but looked steadfastly at Father instead of the mummy.

It takes a surprisingly long time to unwrap a mummy. To entertain his guests, Lord Chudleigh jawed on about mummy legends and curses—the most sensational rubbish he could find, and most of it not even close to the truth. When he got to the part about how they used to grind up mummies to be ingested for their magical properties—that part true, unfortunately—I was so utterly revolted that I blurted out, “Youre not going to grind this one up, are you?” There was a long moment of silence in which everyone chose to stare at me, and I suddenly remembered my promise to do nothing to call unpleasant attention to myself. Chudleigh gave a false laugh. “No, no. Of course not. This one will become a part of my own personal collection.” “Oh. I beg your pardon,” I said, vowing to keep my mouth shut from now on.

At last Father and Snowthorpe came to the mummys head. I studiously kept my eyes glued to Fathers face. When the last bandage was lifted away, the crowd gasped in delighted horror.

I will not look, I will not look, I told myself. But sometimes the more you concentrated on not doing something, the more drawn you were to doing it. In the end, my curiosity got the better of me and I looked.

“Behold—the unknown priest of Amenemhab!” Lord Chudleigh called out.

A smattering of applause ran through the crowd, and unable to help myself, I stepped forward, my eyes fixed on the mummys face. It was a face I had seen only a few short months ago, when Id been forced to confront three of the Serpents of Chaos in Thutmose IIIs tomb. Their leaders words rang in my ears. That is twice hes failed me. There shall not be a third time.

“Oh no, Lord Chudleigh.” The words bubbled out before I could stop them. “That isnt an unknown priest of the Middle Dynasty. Thats Mr. Tetley. From the British Museum.”

Product Details

Lafevers, Robin
Graphia Books
Murphy, Kelly
La Fevers, Robin
La Fevers, R. L.
Tanaka, Yoko
Science Fiction, Fantasy, & Magic
Action & Adventure
Children s-Adventure Stories
Children s-Science Fiction and Fantasy
Edition Description:
Trade Paper
His Fair Assassin Trilogy
Publication Date:
Grade Level:
from 9
8.25 x 5.5 in 1 lb
Age Level:
from 14

Other books you might like

  1. The House on Mango Street (Vintage...
    Used Trade Paper $5.50
  2. Every Day
    Sale Trade Paper $4.98
  3. Rot & Ruin
    Sale Trade Paper $5.98
  4. Copper Sun
    Sale Trade Paper $4.98
  5. The Fault in Our Stars
    Used Trade Paper $8.00
  6. The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big...
    Used Trade Paper $3.50

Related Subjects

Children's » Action and Adventure » Adventure Stories
Children's » General
Children's » Historical Fiction » Europe
Children's » Oregon Battle of the Books
Children's » Sale Books
Children's » Science Fiction and Fantasy » General
Young Adult » Featured Titles
Young Adult » Fiction » Paranormal
Young Adult » General

His Fair Assassin Trilogy #01: Grave Mercy Used Trade Paper
0 stars - 0 reviews
$6.95 In Stock
Product details 576 pages Graphia Books - English 9780544022492 Reviews:
"Review" by ,
A Kirkus  Best Teen Book of 2012

"With characters that will inspire the imagination, a plot that nods to history while defying accuracy, and a love story that promises more in the second book, this is sure to attract feminist readers and romantics alike."--Booklist, starred review

"Fiction and history coalesce in a rich, ripping tale of assassinations, political intrigue and religion in 15th-century Brittany. ...LaFevers ambitious tapestry includes poison and treason and murder, valor and honor and slow love, suspense and sexuality and mercy. A page-turner--with grace." --Kirkus, starred review

"Rich in historical detail, well-realized characters, political machinations, and enticingly prickly scenes between Ismae and Duval, LaFevers's complex tale incorporates magic both sparingly and subtly. This powerful first volume of the His Fair Assassin series should attract many readers."--Publishers Weekly, starred review

"The book is well written and filled with fascinating, complex characters who function realistically in this invented medieval world."--School Library Journal,

"Readers will immediately warm to Ismae's determination to think for herself despite the powerfl influences of multiple others."--Bulletin

"LaFevers is an artful storyteller who has created a strong lead character....The tale is one of scheming nobles, political subterfuge, murder, and romance—all of the best aspects of a good read. And like any good mystery, the plot is unpredictable." --VOYA

"Synopsis" by ,
Seventeen-year-old Ismae escapes a brutal arranged marriage into the sanctuary of the convent of assassins - for a price. Packed with love, magic, and deadly games of courtly intrigue and treason, this first book of a fast-paced YA trilogy set in 15th-century France combines romance with captivating action.
  • back to top


Powell's City of Books is an independent bookstore in Portland, Oregon, that fills a whole city block with more than a million new, used, and out of print books. Shop those shelves — plus literally millions more books, DVDs, and gifts — here at