By James A. Owen
<font size="+1">"'The campaign has begun'...</font>
"There's an previous delusion within the Archipelago," he went on softly, shaking his head. "A legend, really...I recollect it pointed out a campaign, yet these occasions occurred seven centuries in the past. We consistently inspiration it used to be just a story."
it's been 9 years on account that John, Jack, and Charles had their nice event within the Archipelago of goals and have become the Caretakers of the Imaginarium Geographica. Now they've been introduced jointly back to unravel a secret: an individual is kidnapping the kids of the Archipelago. And their merely clue is a mysterious message brought through a wierd lady with synthetic wings: "The campaign has begun." Worse, they detect that every one of the mythical Dragonships have disappeared in addition.
the single likelihood they need to retailer the realm from a centuries-old plot is to find the final of the Dragonships -- the Red Dragon -- in a astonishing trip that takes them from Sir James Barrie's Kensington Gardens to the beneath of the Greek Titans of fantasy. With neighbors either time-honored and new, they'll commute via a rare panorama the place heritage, fable, and delusion combination jointly to inform the oldest tale on this planet. And alongside the way in which, the Caretakers of the Geographica will notice that groovy deeds by myself don't make heroes, and that starting to be up could be unavoidable...but turning out to be old doesn't need to be.
retail caliber, with illustrations
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Extra resources for The Search for the Red Dragon (Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica)
The BMW had a satellite navigation system. Of course, that would be standard in a luxury car like this, but this one had risen out of the dashboard like something in a James Bond film, full-colour and with a high-definition screen. What was strange was that it seemed to have activated itself automatically. Neither of the boys had touched anything. “Put in our destination,” Harry commanded. “I don’t know our destination,” Jason said. ” Jason remembered that it was a town on the Suffolk coast. “Yeah.
They had parked in a narrow street, next to a shop selling lanterns, chairs, boxes and chessboards, all of which were hanging off the front wall and spilling onto the pavement. ” Charles Atchley demanded. “This is it,” the driver agreed with a smile. ” Charles whined. “It’s a riad,” his mother explained. ” The truth was that Charles Atchley had never wanted to go to Marrakech. It might be a holiday abroad, but from what he had heard, the city in Morocco would be hot and sweaty with no beaches, no McDonald’s, no amusement parks and nothing much to do at the hotel except sit and read.
Charles Atchley demanded. “This is it,” the driver agreed with a smile. ” Charles whined. “It’s a riad,” his mother explained. ” The truth was that Charles Atchley had never wanted to go to Marrakech. It might be a holiday abroad, but from what he had heard, the city in Morocco would be hot and sweaty with no beaches, no McDonald’s, no amusement parks and nothing much to do at the hotel except sit and read. And as he hated books, what was the point of that? Worse still, the food would be strange, the people would speak little or no English, there would be flies everywhere and he would have to spend hours either walking through ruins or struggling up the Atlas Mountains.