By Darren Shan
In a state of cruel tyrants, Jebel Rum's family members is venerated as royalty simply because his father is the executioner. yet Rashed Rum is close to retirement. And whilst he is going, there'll be a competition to figure out his successor. it's a contest that skinny, puny Jebel has no probability of winning.
Humiliated and ashamed, Jebel units out on a quest to the remote domestic of a mythical hearth god to beg for inhuman powers in order that he can turn into the main deadly of fellows. He needs to take with him a slave, named Tel Hesani, to be sacrificed to the god. it will likely be a gloomy and brutal trip jam-packed with lynch mobs, suicide cults, negative monsters, and worse, mammoth males. yet to Jebel, the danger is worthy it.
To retrieve his honor . . .
To wield incredible strength . . .
To develop into . . .
The skinny executioner.
Inspired via Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, overseas bestselling grasp of horror Darren Shan takes readers on an exhilarating, fast paced trip right into a nightmarish global the place compassion and kindness are the best crimes of all.
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Extra resources for The Thin Executioner
But her lips were pale as ice when she spoke. ” “Yes,” Jebel said. “If you accept my husband as your slave and turn us over to your father, he can hold us captive for a year. If you return, you’ll free us. If not, an Um Aineh witch will try to contact your spirit. If my husband served you well, you’ll tell her and we shall be freed. ” Tel Hesani snapped. “Those witches are fakes. They can’t speak to the dead. They say what the person paying them wants to hear. ” “Perhaps,” Murasa agreed. “But at least this way we have hope.
I know,” Jebel said. “But that’s not what I wanted to ask you about. I’m stuck already. ” J’An frowned. ” “He doesn’t know,” Jebel whispered. J’An’s frown deepened, then cleared. “Of course. I heard about Rashed’s announcement. Early retirement so his sons might compete for the honor of replacing him. ” “Word of my humiliation has even made it to Fruth,” Jebel snarled. “Never underestimate those who serve,” J’An said. ” J’An leaned back, thoughtfully rubbing a tattooed ear. He was an especially dark-skinned man, but his eyes were bright blue, evidence that one of his ancestors had come from a foreign land.
Girls also looked at Jebel in a new way. Wherever he stopped, he found scores of young women clad in their finest blouses and dresses, fussing over him, fighting among themselves to carry a tray to him or pour his wine. They smiled at Jebel all the time, fluttering their eyelashes, artfully pursing their lips. The advances took Jebel by surprise initially. He blushed and kept his eyes low.