Banshee Moon

4.50
Add to cart
Banshee Moon

This second volume in the Celtic Chronicles cycle sees Wilf, Burp, Molly and Kirsty once more battling the forces of evil, but only Wilf can remember he's been there before.

Remember that strange tale of banshees and marsh-warriors, The Man in the Skirt? Shape-shifting and swordplay suddenly replaced ordinary school life for four kids, Wilf Sexton, his friend Burp, and two girls from their class, Molly Pogson and Kirsty Armitage, as the first book in the Celtic Chronicles trilogy mounted to a thrilling climax involving armed police and a siege on the school roof with hostages.

Now, Wilf and the Banshees are back. But, because of the time-travelling ending of the first part of the story, the start of this book finds the main characters unaware of what has happened to them so far. So, when Wilf picks up a strange, bean-sized Celtic artefact during a school trip to the museum, he is only dimly aware that in fact this is the Orf Stone, and he is now the Stone-Master.

Before he can come to terms with this, and piece the facts together, he's suddenly pitched headlong into the next cycle of events, triggered by his teacher trying to kill him!

0he next thing the kids know, they are once more in that strange Celtic twilight world, where age old forces of good and evil are locked in a mighty struggle, only balanced by the Castle of Endless Time.

Living in the forest, they make contact once more with the banshees, as Wilf finds himself drawn more and more to their world, and further from his. New friends and allies, such as Glumph, (he's not a snake, however much he might look like one) and Lud, the renegade marsh warrior, accompany them on their quest to seek the Cauldron of Life, and also, if they can, find out why men have nipples!

On the way they meet up with the Plops (not a new boy band, but in fact a fierce race of warrior lizards) and their leader, Lord Junk.

0he final battle between Liam and Wilf, on top of the Tomb of Tara, for the Cauldron of Life is white knuckle, edge-of-the-seat stuff. Rarely have swashes been so buckled. It's the sort of finish that will have you alternately hiding behind the sofa and peeping through your fingers to see what happens next. Ah no, I'm not going to give it away, you'll have to find out for yourself ...