The Dragonbards Trilogy
by Shirley Rousseau Murphy
A young adult fantasy trilogy
Complete in one volume
Paperback and ebook, 2016
Book One: Nightpool
Hardcover: Harper & Row, 1985; paperback: Harper, 1987Ebook edition, 2010
As dark raiders invade the world of Tirror, a singing dragon awakens from her long slumber, searching for the human who can vanquish the forces of evil--Tebriel, son of the murdered king. Teb has found refuge in Nightpool, a colony of talking otters. But a creature of the Dark is also seeking him, and the battle to which he is drawn will decide Tirror’s future.
Book Two: The Ivory Lyre
Hardcover: Harper & Row, 1987; paperback: Harper, 1988Ebook edition, 2010
The bard Tebriel and his singing dragon Seastrider together can weave powerful spells. With other dragons searching for their own bards, they have been inciting revolts throughout the enslaved land of Tirror. Only if they can contact underground resistance fighters and find the talisman hidden in Dacia will they have a chance to defeat the power of the dark.
Book Three: The Dragonbards
Hardcover: Harper & Row, 1988; paperback: Harper, 1989
Ebook edition, 2010
Only the dragonbards and their singing dragons have the power to unite the people and animals of Tirror into an army that can break the Dark’s hypnotic hold over the world. Before their leader Tebriel can challenge the hordes gathering for the final battle, he must confront the dark lord Quazelzeg face to face in the Castle of Doors, a warp of time and space.
Purchase these books
The ebooks can be purchaed at Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, Apple Books, and Kobo. The links are for the one-volume edition, but ebooks of the three novels can also be purchased separately. Only the complete one-volume trilogy is available in paperback. It can be purchased at Amazon.Quotes from the reviews
Nightpool
"Scenes that fairly soar infuse the tale with mythical qualities, which are buttressed by vitalized characterizations (the otters, foxes and dragons as well as Teb are developed in loving detail while the evil ones are truly evil). An enthralling fantasy that begs a sequel, better yet a series of sequels." --ALA Booklist
"A sense that communication with animals once existed but has been lost permeates all of human lore. Georgia writer Shirley Rousseau Murphy's forte is her ability to vicariously compensate for this loss through her stories. In Nightpool she is in top form." --Atlanta Journal and Constitution
The Ivory Lyre
"A riveting sequel to Nightpool. . . . A finely crafted story filled with scenes of chilling horror as well as courage and beauty. Murphy's dragon lore exhibits an exciting immediacy; her scenes of dragons in flight exalt the reader. . . . Anne McCaffrey, make room." --ALA Booklist
"This well-crafted fantasy has a depth and scope reminiscent of Tolkien." --Publisher's Weekly
The Dragonbards
"Once again Murphy demonstrates a fine sense of storytelling, high adventure, scene setting, and characterization--human, animal, and evil monster. And her dragons remain some of the most appealing in contemporary fantasy." --ALA Booklist
"The concluding volume of the author’s generally acclaimed Dragonbards trilogy . . . assumes a harrowing narrative pace that builds to a grand, good-over-evil finale. . . . This is rollicking high fantasy." --Christian Science Monitor
"The thrilling last battle scene, with the dramatic appearance of Teb's long-lost mother, Meriden, and the poignant farewell to the wise otter Thakkur will more than satisfy readers who enjoyed the first two books. A rousing finale to a notable trilogy." --Publisher's Weekly
Excerpt from Nightpool
When Teb turned from the sea back into his cave, the white otter was coming silently along the narrow ledge, erect on his hind legs, his whiteness startling against the black stone, his forepaws folded together and very still, not fussing as other otters' paws fussed. Thakkur paused, quietly watching him, and Teb knelt at once, in a passion of reverence quite unlike himself. But Thakkur frowned and reached out a paw to touch Teb's shoulder; their eyes were on a level now, Thakkur's dark eyes half laughing, half annoyed. "Get up, Teb. Do not kneel before me." Then his look went bright and loving. . . .
They embraced, the white otter's fur infinitely soft against Teb's face, and smelling of sea and of sun.
"Go in joy, Tebriel. Go with the blessing of The Maker. Go in the care of the Graven Light."
Teb took up his pack at last and lashed it to his waist. He gave Thakkur a long, steady look, then stepped to the edge of the cliff and dove far out and deep, cutting the water cleanly and striking out at once against the incoming swells. As quickly as that he left Nightpool, and his tears mixed with the salty sea.
At a safe distance from the cliffs he turned north, and glancing up between strokes, he caught a glimpse of Thakkur's white form on the black island; then the vision vanished in a shattering of green water as he made his way with strong, pulling strokes crosswise to the force of the sea, up toward the north end of the island.
He could have walked across Nightpool and swum the channel from the mainland side, but not this morning, not this last time. As he passed the lower caves at the far end of the island, he could hear water slapping into the cave doors. At the far end, beside Shark Rock, he turned again, toward land this time and set out in an easier rhythm with the tide, to cross the deep green channel. And it was here that suddenly two brown heads popped up beside him, and two grinning faces. Mikk and Charkky rolled and dove beside him, escorting him in toward the shore.
They leaped and splashed and pushed at him, rocked him on their own waves and dove between his feet and under him, and Charkky tickled his toes. Teb was not wearing the precious sharkskin flippers; he had left them safe in his cave. Charkky came up on his other side, dove again, was gone a long time, and came up ahead of Teb and Mikk with a sea urchin in each dark paw, busily stripping off the spines with his teeth. He tossed one to Mikk and one to Teb, and they were into a fast, complicated game of catch. Then when the game grew old, the two otters rolled onto their backs, cracked the urchins open with small stones they carried on cords around their necks, and ate them live and raw. Teb tried to outdistance them, but without the flippers he hadn't a chance, even when they only floated idly kicking and eating.
They left him before the sea shallowed onto rising shore, embracing him in quick, strong, fishy-smelling hugs and dragging their rough whiskers hard across his cheek, their eyes great dark-brown pools of longing and of missing him, and of love, and of silly otter humor all at once.
"Fly high, brother," Mikk said hoarsely. "Know clouds, brother, as you know the sea." They studied one another with love and concern.
Charkky just touched his cheek, softly, with a wet, gentle paw. Then they were gone, diving down along the bottom, dropping deeper, Teb knew, as the shore dropped, swimming deep toward home.
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Excerpt from The Ivory Lyre
The jagged rocks along the cliff tore at Seastrider as she searched for a way in toward Teb. She sensed the hollowness of caves. At last she found the opening to a tangle of caves that she knew, by the echoes, went far back into the mountain. She could sense Teb, sense his stubborn hope, and that kept her seeking. She moved deep in, not liking to be underground. But she sensed something else ahead of her, the hint of a bright and powerful magic. She pushed forward eagerly.
From above her on the mountain she heard the screams of dragons. The others had returned. She felt the vibrations of their bodies as they settled among the trees and boulders; then came a cry loud enough to crack the mountain right through. It was Nightraider, bugling. Only one thing made a dragon bugle. Nightraider had sensed his bard. The commotion was terrible and wonderful. Seastrider wanted to pull out of the caves and look, but she would not leave Teb. She sucked in fresh air and moved deeper in. She could see Teb in vision, stubbornly digging at the floor with a puny bit of metal, brushing the mortar away with his hands.
*
Kiri clung to the side of the mountain staring up, frozen with wonder at the sight above her as the great black dragon reared into the sky, bugling. Beside her Camery stared, too, her cheeks flaming and her eyes huge.
They had released their horses at the foot of the cliff where the climbing grew steep, pulled the saddles and bridles from the poor blowing beasts and sent them wandering away. Now, above them, the black dragon was a turbulence of dark coils, his wings snapping over the edge of the cliff, a huge clawed foot sliding over a boulder. Then the dragon's head was so close they could feel his hot breath, as he stared down at Camery, his eyes yellow and luminous. She looked up at him, then laughed out loud, and struggled upward fighting to get to him. He bugled again, then reached down.
His great mouth came over Camery so wide open they could see every knife-long fang. Camery looked up unafraid. He took her between his jaws with infinite gentleness. She pulled herself in, clinging to his ivory teeth, and he lifted her and set her on his hack between his spreading wings. There Camery clung to him, her arms trying to circle his neck, and her bright hair spilling across his black scales.
As he gathered himself to leap skyward, she sat up straight on his back, clutching at the scallops of mane along his neck, pressing her booted legs tight to his sides. He lifted into the dawn.
Kiri watched them soar over the mountain. She could still feel the wind of the dragon's wings across her upturned face. The stone beneath her hands felt lifeless. She was only a small, earthbound creature.
But then the knowledge that there were dragons overrode all else. There were dragons again on Tirror. Her pleasure in Camery's freedom filled her soul. She began to climb again, up to where the other dragons waited.
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Excerpt from The Dragonbards
The lyre, carved from the claws of the ancient dragon Bayzun, held all of Bayzun's strength--and all his weakness. It, like the dying dragon, faded easily and built its strength again only slowly. They had been wary of using it again, saving it for the most urgent need against the dark forces.
"It is needed now," Kiri said. "Use it now."
Teb touched one silver string. The lyre's clear voice rang through the cave bright as starlight, embracing them with promise. He held its cry to whispered softness, for the presence of the dark was ever near. He did not want to draw the dark here. He joined his own power with the lyre, and with Kiri and Marshy and the dragons, to make a lingering song of life. Though it filled the cave only softly, it stirred every living soul within its hearing.
Except the dragonling. She did not stir.
Teb looked at Kiri. The lyre's subtle song was not enough. They might alert the dark, but he must make the magic shout, make the cave thunder with the lyre's power, no matter how close were the dark unliving.
Kiri's brown eyes went wide with wonder and with fear, and with a tender, consuming love that Teb sensed but could not sort out--love for the young dragon, surely....
Teb touched the lyre's strings again. All faces were turned to him, solemn and expectant. He slapped the silver strings so the lyre's music raged, summoning wild winds and thunder across Stilvoke Cave. He brought to the young dragon's sleeping mind the power of dragons, the fearsome passion of dragons, and their tangled past.
When he let the lyre's music quiet to a rhythm like pounding blood, he brought a vision of a dragon nest cradled by mountain winds, where sky-colored eggs reflected clouds, and where dragon babies shattered their shells and pushed up toward the welcoming sky--but suddenly the lyre's voice died, sucked away to silence beneath Teb's hands.
The cave was silent. Only the echo of the lyre's voice clung.
Still the dragonling did not stir. But Teb could feel a change in her, subtle as breath, and knew the lyre's power had drawn her back from the thin edge of dying. Her body seemed rounder, and her white scales had begun to shine with iridescent colors.
Read a longer sample from inside the book
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