Foretold: 14 Tales of Prophecy and Prediction

3 Dec

Foretold: 14 Tales of Prophecy and Prediction

Foretold: 14 Tales of Prophecy and Prediction

Carrie Ryan

Language: English

Pages: 368

ISBN: 0385741308

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Richelle Mead, Lisa McMann, Michael Grant, Meg Cabot, Laini Taylor, and nine more of the hottest YA authors to hit the shelves explore the concepts of prophecy and prediction in this story collection edited by NYT bestselling author of The Forest of Hands and Teeth, Carrie Ryan. 

Have you ever been tempted to look into the future? To challenge predictions? To question fate? It's human nature to wonder about life's twists and turns. But is the future already written—or do you have the power to alter it?

From fantastical prophecies to predictions of how the future will transpire, Foretold is a collection of stories about our universal fascination with life's unknowns and of what is yet to come as interpreted by 14 of young adult fiction's brightest stars.

This collection includes works from:
Malinda Lo (Ash)
Lisa McMann (Wake)
Kami Garcia (Beautiful Creatures)
Margaret Stohl (Beautiful Creatures)
Laini Taylor (The Daughter of Smoke and Bone)
Michael Grant (Gone)
Saundra Mitchell (The Vespertine)
Richelle Mead (the Vampire Academy)
Matt de la Pena (I Will Save You)
Meg Cabot (The Princess Diaries)
Heather Brewer (The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod)
Diana Peterfreund (Rampant)
Simone Elkeles (Perfect Chemistry)
Carrie Ryan (The Forest of Hands and Teeth)




















legs, which I took as a good sign. Slowly, we made our way back toward the fight, our maneuvers awkward in the tight tunnel. When we emerged into the light, I was dismayed to see the Blood King still alive. “Rest here,” I told Ivan, moving him toward a wall. He wasn’t in as critical a condition as I’d feared. He looked as though the Blood King had—literally—thrown him around a few times, but none of the cuts and bruises looked dire. I expected him to sit so that I could lend my strength to the

enormous spirit ant farm beneath my feet. All the while bones lie in the coffins where the flesh has left them. Some of them are angry bones, but none so angry as the bones of the angriest man. Now I must find him. Bad begets bad; anger, anger. It’s time. I picture the underground cemetery world as I walk along under the cover of stretching maples. I listen deeply and my growl guides me over the paths. There is a grove of small trees where I guess Jesus must be buried, in a grave under his own

out. Or it can merely … discipline you. So don’t do anything stupid.” Ah, so it was a stun gun, not a gun gun. I can see that now. They let us out. I guess right away that we’re somewhere on the Presidio. That’s a former army post in, like, the world’s most beautiful location in a park overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. The army moved out a long time ago, and some of the old officers’ quarters are rented out, and some of the other buildings, the headquarters and all. Now they’re offices for

her mother, Vara bless our death-kept queen. I don’t know that my father has ever said he loved me, but it seems he’s been doing just that all along. This weighs on me, but I cannot consider it too deeply. There are dragon’s galls to be forced down Lucia’s throat, and willow bark tea to be poured after them. I make a hundred compresses if I make ten. Well after dark each night, I harvest ice from the straw pit in the atrium and pack it into her bed. She cries, and I cry, and none of it makes

slipped across the rock in the stream. I’d been thinking of Rete. The Emperor called a moratorium on the races while my bones knitted. I tried retaking my place in court, using a clever mechanism of a platform on wheels to take the pressure off my shattered ankle as I made my way through the palace chambers and gardens. But everywhere I went I was met with hushed silences, followed by tittering gossip the moment I rolled from the room. Some were pleased to see me brought low, and I began a

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