The Witch's Boy

The Witch's Boy

by Kelly Barnhill

Narrated by Ralph Lister

Unabridged — 9 hours, 58 minutes

The Witch's Boy

The Witch's Boy

by Kelly Barnhill

Narrated by Ralph Lister

Unabridged — 9 hours, 58 minutes

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Overview

When Ned and his identical twin brother tumble from their raft into a raging, bewitched river, only Ned survives. Villagers are convinced the wrong boy lived. Sure enough, Ned grows up weak and slow, and stays as much as possible within the safe boundaries of his family's cottage and yard. But when a Bandit King comes to steal the magic that Ned's mother, a witch, is meant to protect, it's Ned who safeguards the magic and summons the strength to protect his family and community.

In the meantime, in another kingdom across the forest that borders Ned's village, lives the resourceful and pragmatic daughter of the Bandit King, who is haunted by her mother's last words to her: “The wrong boy will save your life and you will save his.” When Ainé's and Ned's paths inevitably cross, they must learn to trust each other and make their way through the woods together to return the magic to its resting place and stop a war that is about to boil over.


Editorial Reviews

The New York Times - Brianna Albanese

Barnhill…creates an absorbing world of kingdoms and prophecies in which transformation comes through language, and through courage and self-awareness as well…Áine, with her sharp survival skills and fearless navigation of the forest, is a cunning and strong figure unlike any typical damsel in distress. She is sure to make young girls aspire to more than the dainty and pretty female image of older fairy tales. The Witch's Boy may be yet another children's novel about magic, but it should open young readers' eyes to something that is all around them in the very world we live in: the magic of words.

Publishers Weekly

★ 08/04/2014
In a story of an unexpected hero, a thief’s daughter, and some very tricky magic, Barnhill weaves a powerful narrative about the small tragedies that happen when parents fail their children, even with the best intentions. After Ned’s twin brother, Tam, drowns, his mother, the village’s Sister Witch, binds Tam’s soul to Ned, who grows up as an awkward, stuttering boy ostracized by the rest of his village. Áine’s widower father loves her, but he loves his life as a Bandit King more. The magic that touches both Ned and Áine draws their lives inexorably together as they are caught up in the machinations of King Ott’s selfish empire-building. Barnhill (The Mostly True Story of Jack) makes bold character choices: Ned is soft, but never weak, while Áine is tough, prickly, yet sympathetic. Peripheral adults are well fleshed out, from Ned’s father, devastated by the loss of one child and afraid to show his love for the other, to a sensible queen who knows the value of a good witch. Barnhill elegantly joins the story’s diverse threads in a complex tale whose poignancy never turns sentimental. Ages 9–up. Agent: Steven Malk, Writer’s House. (Sept.)

From the Publisher

In a story of an unexpected hero, a thief’s daughter, and some very tricky magic, Barnhill weaves a powerful narrative . . . Barnhill elegantly joins the story’s diverse threads in a complex tale whose poignancy never turns sentimental.” —Publishers Weekly, starred review

“Careful, confident Aine; whose skills, both domestic and wild, make her a formidable ally (and excellent heroine), is a studied contrast to the weaker, shy Ned. The boy’s growing confidence and ability to wield and protect his mother’s magic adds elements of a classic origin-quest tale to a story that’s already brimming with a well-drawn, colorful supporting cast, a strong sense of place, and an enchanted forest with a personality to rival some of the best depictions of magical woods.” —School Library Journal, starred review

“Barnhill skillfully interweaves the stories of Ned, Áine, Sister Witch and the stones, along with an intriguing group of secondary characters. The third-person narration switches perspective smoothly, and it’s all related in a precise, flowing prose that easily places readers into the fantastic setting and catches them up in the story. The classic fantasy elements are all there, richly reimagined, with a vivid setting, a page-turning adventure of a plot, and compelling, timeless themes.” —Kirkus Reviews, starred review

“Warring nations, mysterious stone figures, and the running thread that magic is alive and dangerous all add to the gripping core narrative of two children who find wells of strength and ingenuity from being pushed out of their comfort zones. The setting is exceptional: lush descriptions are flawlessly integrated, conveying a deep understanding of the natural world and the people, flawed and complex, who populate it . . . Offer this to Gaiman and Wynne-Jones fans, and to realistic fiction buffs who are open to brilliant coming-of-age stories sharing space with touches of magic.” —The Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books, starred review

“Barnhill . . . is an eloquent writer who spins beautiful lines . . . This spellbinding fantasy begs for a cozy chair, a stash of Halloween candy and several hours of uninterrupted reading time.” —The Washington Post

“A story with many alluring elements . . . Barnhill creates an absorbing world of kingdoms and prophecies in which transformation comes through language, and through courage and self-awareness as well . . . [The Witch’s Boy] should open young readers’ eyes to something that is all around them in the very world we live in: the magic of words.” —NewYorkTimes.com

“Barnhill tells a complex story, one that sustains and subverts the usual fairy-tale tropes. Through the eyes of the brave and increasingly shrewd Ned and Áine, young readers consider the complications of magic, the corrupting desire for power, and the conflicting natures of good and evil in this atmospheric and elegantly told literary fairy tale.” —The Horn Book Magazine

“The characters are vivid and well developed . . . The writing is beautiful and lyrical, but keeps pace with an action-packed story . . . Recommend this title to those who like retellings and strong, narrative fantasy.” —VOYA

“Kelly Barnhill is deft at crafting strong characters, and this classic fairy tale is filled with otherworldly beasties and plenty of magic.” San Antonio Express-News

“In [this] gorgeously written and fast-paced adventure through forest and flood, bandits and courtiers, wolves and queens and witches, the boy and the girl must stop a war, restore magic to its rightful place, and find their own places in a world they’ve helped to make bigger. Barnhill is a fantasist on the order of Neil Gaiman, and this story feels fully inhabited.” Minneapolis Star Tribune

“Fiercely original and uncommonly lovely, The Witch’s Boy is equal parts enchanting and haunting. Kelly Barnhill is master of truly potent and unruly magic; luckily for readers, she chooses to use her powers for good.” —Anne Ursu

NOVEMBER 2014 - AudioFile

Ned’s story begins when his twin brother dies in an accident and the townspeople believe that the wrong boy lived. Narrator Ralph Lister reads this fairy-tale-style fantasy, complete with bandits, royalty, and magic, peeling back the mystery surrounding Ned’s mother, Sister Witch. While Lister provides a complete set of voices for the characters—from Ned and his family in the village to the Queen and the Bandit King—only his male voices ring true. The voices of the female characters sound breathy and unrealistic—especially the voice of the Queen and Ned’s counterpart, Áine, the daughter of the Bandit King. While the story moves slowly at times, Ned and Áine’s adventures will appeal to fans of middle-grade fantasy, and Lister’s narration adds to the magical feel of the story. E.N. © AudioFile 2014, Portland, Maine

Kirkus Reviews

★ 2014-07-15
Nine enormous boulders are awakened from their long sleep by the actions of a seemingly powerless boy and the daughter of the Bandit King. Since his identical twin's death and his own near-drowning, Ned has spoken with a stutter, and villagers believe that "the wrong boy" survived. Ned doesn't know that his mother, Sister Witch, in desperation, used the magic she holds and protects to join his brother's soul to his, despite the fact that "[i]t was a dangerous thing, her magic. With consequences." Áine, meanwhile, is growing up with a father whose behavior increasingly worries her, especially the way he fondles a pendant he's begun wearing and the fact that he has been bringing home a frightening group of bandits. In fact, the Bandit King is after Sister Witch's magic, and when she leaves town, he tries to force Ned to surrender it to him. Instead, Ned takes the magic upon himself, at a cost of great physical pain as the words burn into him and the magic keeps talking to him, and he is kidnapped. Barnhill skillfully interweaves the stories of Ned, Áine, Sister Witch and the stones, along with an intriguing group of secondary characters. The third-person narration switches perspective smoothly, and it's all related in a precise, flowing prose that easily places readers into the fantastic setting and catches them up in the story. The classic fantasy elements are all there, richly reimagined, with a vivid setting, a page-turning adventure of a plot, and compelling, timeless themes. (Fantasy. 10-15)

Product Details

BN ID: 2940170098897
Publisher: HighBridge Company
Publication date: 09/16/2014
Edition description: Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

1
The Twins


Once upon a time there were two brothers, as alike to one another as you are to your own reflection. They had the same eyes, the same hands, the same voice, the same insatiable curiosity. And though it was generally agreed that one was slightly quicker, slightly cleverer, slightly more wonderful than the other, no one could tell the boys apart. And even when they thought they could, they were usually wrong.

“Which one has the scar on his nose?” people would ask. “Which is the one with the saucy grin? Is Ned the smart one, or is it Tam?”

Ned, some said.

Tam, said others. They couldn’t decide. But surely, one was better. It stood to reason.

“For god’s sakes, boys,” their exasperated neighbors would sigh, “will you stand still so we may look at you properly?”

The boys would not stand still. They were a whirlwind of shrieks and schemes and wicked grins. They would not be pinned down. And so the question of which one was the quick one, the clever one, the more wonderful one, remained a subject of some debate.

One day, the boys decided it was high time that they built a raft. Working in secret, and with great attention to detail, they constructed it using scraps of lumber and bits of rope and cast-off pieces of broken furniture and sticks, careful to hide their work from their mother. Once they felt the vessel was seaworthy, they slid it into the Great River and climbed aboard, hoping to make it to the sea.

They were mistaken. The vessel was not seaworthy. Very quickly, the rushing currents pulled the raft apart, and the boys were thrown into the water, fighting for their lives.

Their father, a broad, strong man, dove into the water, and though he could barely swim, struggled through the current toward his children.

A crowd gathered at the edge of the water. They were afraid of the river—afraid of the spirits that lived in the water who might snatch a man if he wasn’t careful and pull him toward the dark muck at the bottom. They did not dive in to assist the man or his drowning children. Instead, they called out helpful comments to the terrified father.

“Mind you keep their heads above the water when you drag them back,” one woman yelled.

“And if you can only save one,” a man added, “make sure you save the right one.”

The current separated the boys. The father couldn’t save them both. He kicked and swore, but as he reached one boy—the closer boy—his twin had been swept far down the length of the river and out of sight. His body washed ashore later that day, swollen and aghast. The people gathered around the small, dead child and shook their heads.

“We should have known he’d bungle it,” they said.

“He saved the wrong one. The wrong boy lived.”

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