Today we’re spotlighting THUNDER CITY by Philip Reeve!
Read on for more about the author and the book!
About the Author: Philip Reeve
Philip Reeve is the bestselling author of the Mortal Engines quartet, which is now a major motion picture, and the award-winning Fever Crumb series. His other books include the highly acclaimed Here Lies Arthur and No Such Thing As Dragons. He lives in England with his wife and son. Visit him online at philip-reeve.com.
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About the Book: THUNDER CITY (A Mortal Engines Novel)
Tamzin Pook is a fighter in the Amusement Arcade. And what she does best is killing Revenants.
All she knows is survival, having arrived in the Arcade as a small child. She pushes away her memories, her hopes, and her fears, and she emerges into the arena to battle the Revenants–dead brains nestled in armored engine bodies. She doesn’t dare to hope or wish for anything more than to survive another day.
Meanwhile, the wheeled city of Motoropolis has been taken over by a rebel faction who killed its leaders and commandeered the city. Its only hope is a teacher named Miss Torpenhow who’s determined to find the Mayor’s good-for-nothing son and force him to take back what’s rightfully his. But to get to him, she’ll need to find someone who’s skilled at fighting Revenants.
With a daring abduction, Miss Torpenhow and Tamzin Pook’s destinies are entwined, and so begin their adventures together…
This stand-alone Mortal Engines novel follows an unlikely crew of fighters-turned friends: Tamzin Pook, Hilly Torpenhow, mayor-to-be Max Angmering, and washed-up mercenary Oddington Doom. Together, they must find a way to outwit the assassins that are determined to drag Tamzin back to the arcade, and try to take back Motoropolis.
Readers, hold onto your seats—it’s going to be a wild ride.
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~Excerpt~
The sea was calm that evening, and the raft town of Margate lay at anchor just off the rugged western coast of the Great Hunting Ground, surrounded by a slowly spreading slick of sewage and chip wrappers.
What portion of the Hunting Ground that was, with its stern cliffs and stony beaches, Tamzin Pook was not sure. She caught only a glimpse of it as she went with the rest of the team and their guards along the walkway that led to the stage door of the Amusement Arcade. The walkway was mostly enclosed, but out- side the stage door there was a section called “the paddock,” walled with wire mesh, where keen fans and gamblers gathered to watch the players pass. The other players waved at the onlookers, or showed off their muscles, or blew kisses. They were all much more glamorous than Tamzin. Tamzin was a girl you wouldn’t look at twice: short and wiry, her black hair cut short, her blunt, tan face set in a semipermanent scowl. While the others went in for colorful costumes and flashy bits of armor, Tamzin always wore the same plain, close-fitting tunic and leggings in which she trained. But it was Tamzin the fans were waiting for. As soon as they caught sight of her, the usual shouts began.
“Tamzin!”
“Over here!”
“Tamzin Pook!”
“Good luck, Tamzin!”
“Should have been you, Pook!”
“Vengeance for Eve Vespertine!”
Hooting like a lot of monkeys, Tamzin thought, ignoring them. It ought to be them inside this cage, not us. She looked out through the wire again toward that anonymous shore. Two small motorized towns had stopped on the tide line. Airships and passenger balloons filled the sky above them, drawn like moths to the lights of Margate and its infamous Amusements.
Then the stage door swung open, and Tamzin passed through it with her fellow fighters into the backstage area, where the stage- hands were waiting to hand them their weapons.
There were four boys with her that night, and three other girls. All of them were bigger and stronger than Tamzin. Some showed their nervousness; others tried to hide it. They talked and laughed together, but not to Tamzin. They were still mistrustful after what had happened last season with Eve Vespertine, she thought. Their side-eye glances made her feel guilty. She wanted to tell them she had their backs and would keep them safe if she could, but she wasn’t the sort of person who was good at saying things like that. If she tried, she would only end up mumbling and stumbling and making everyone embarrassed and more nervy still.
The stagehands were handing out the gear: axes, chain-swords, serrated cleavers. From a gantry overhead, minders with guns kept watch in case any players got the bright idea of trying to fight their way to freedom rather than face another show.
A stagehand gave Tamzin her knife. Its smooth rubber handle was stained black with her sweat. An armored cable trailed from it, plugged into a battery pack that fit onto her belt. She checked the battery herself, as she did always, making sure it had been fully charged. When she looked up, one of the new boys caught her eye and smiled.
“This waiting is the worst,” he said. “Wonder what Mortmain’s got lined up for us tonight?”
Tamzin didn’t answer. She guessed he wanted to talk to calm his nerves. Maybe he thought if he got friendly with her she could save him from whatever was waiting for them. But the best thing he could do for all of them was let her concentrate. He was cute, that boy, and he had performed well in his first few shows, but she didn’t even bother to learn her new teammates’ names anymore. It hurt less that way when a show went bad.
She turned away from him and stared at the door that led into the Arcade. It was a big door, squarish and twice as tall as Tamzin. Its timbers were bound and studded with iron.
“Two minutes, people!” shouted the stage manager.
One of the new girls was sobbing with fear. The others moved away from her, afraid she’d bring bad luck. From beyond the door came the eager voices of the crowd, blurred into one huge, ominous wash of noise that sounded like a stormy sea. Tamzin did not hear it. She was concentrating on the ironbound door. She had learned that if she concentrated hard enough, even her thoughts fell quiet. Then there was only Tamzin, and the door, and the unknown thing that was waiting beyond the door to kill her.
Excerpted from Thunder City by Philip Reeve. Copyright © 2024 by Philip Reeve. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc.
Title: THUNDER CITY (A Mortal Engines Novel)
Author: Philip Reeve
Release Date: Nov. 12, 2024
Publisher: Scholastic Press
Genre: Science Fiction
Age Range: 12+
