Growing Up & Facts of Life
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Map of Flames (The Forgotten Five, Book 1)
X-Men meets Spy Kids in the new middle-grade series from the New York Times bestselling author, Lisa McMann (The Unwanteds).
Fifteen years ago, eight supernatural criminals fled Estero City to make a new life in an isolated tropical hideout. Over time, seven of them disappeared without a trace, presumed captured or killed. And now, the remaining one has died.
Left behind to fend for themselves are the criminals' five children, each with superpowers of their own: Birdie can communicate with animals. Brix has athletic abilities and can heal quickly. Tenner can swim like a fish and can see in the dark and hear from a distance. Seven's skin camouflages to match whatever is around him. Cabot hasn't shown signs of any unusual power-yet.
Then one day Birdie finds a map among her father's things that leads to a secret stash. There is also a note:
Go to Estero, find your mother, and give her the map.
The five have lived their entire lives in isolation. What would it mean to follow the map to a strange world full of things they've only heard about, like cell phones, cars, and electricity? A world where, thanks to their parents, being supernatural is a crime?
Fifteen years ago, eight supernatural criminals fled Estero City to make a new life in an isolated tropical hideout. Over time, seven of them disappeared without a trace, presumed captured or killed. And now, the remaining one has died.
Left behind to fend for themselves are the criminals' five children, each with superpowers of their own: Birdie can communicate with animals. Brix has athletic abilities and can heal quickly. Tenner can swim like a fish and can see in the dark and hear from a distance. Seven's skin camouflages to match whatever is around him. Cabot hasn't shown signs of any unusual power-yet.
Then one day Birdie finds a map among her father's things that leads to a secret stash. There is also a note:
Go to Estero, find your mother, and give her the map.
The five have lived their entire lives in isolation. What would it mean to follow the map to a strange world full of things they've only heard about, like cell phones, cars, and electricity? A world where, thanks to their parents, being supernatural is a crime?
Editorial Reviews
Praise for Map of Flames:
"This new series blends science fiction with the animal kingdom, highlighting incredible feats of nature alongside a compelling quest to survive . . . Middle graders seeking a new twist on science fiction and superpower heroism will find this fast-paced first installment the answer to their search." -School Library Journal
"[Addresses] complicated family dynamics, grief, and the ups and downs of friendship . . . Entertaining and meaningful." -Booklist
"Lisa McMann is a unique talent who creates richly imagined worlds where children discover hidden talents, overcome insurmountable challenges, and learn to live with both hope and loss." -Brightly
"Supernaturally cool." -Kirkus Reviews
"An alternating third-person perspective deftly depicts the five friends struggling to remain together as they navigate contemporary technologies, all the while employing their superpowers to survive in a dangerous new environment." -Publishers Weekly
"This new series blends science fiction with the animal kingdom, highlighting incredible feats of nature alongside a compelling quest to survive . . . Middle graders seeking a new twist on science fiction and superpower heroism will find this fast-paced first installment the answer to their search." -School Library Journal
"[Addresses] complicated family dynamics, grief, and the ups and downs of friendship . . . Entertaining and meaningful." -Booklist
"Lisa McMann is a unique talent who creates richly imagined worlds where children discover hidden talents, overcome insurmountable challenges, and learn to live with both hope and loss." -Brightly
"Supernaturally cool." -Kirkus Reviews
"An alternating third-person perspective deftly depicts the five friends struggling to remain together as they navigate contemporary technologies, all the while employing their superpowers to survive in a dangerous new environment." -Publishers Weekly
Readers Top Reviews
Short Excerpt Teaser
The Last Words
Birdie Golden's fingers were still stained with dirt from digging her father's grave. Tears smudged her cheeks.
"When I'm gone," he'd whispered to her, "look through my crate. I've left you . . ." His fingertips had sparked one last time and gone out, leaving them charcoal-tinged and lifeless. His labored breathing had slowed, and he'd closed his eyes.
Left her what? Or maybe he'd just . . . you know. Left her. "Dad?" Her chest had tightened. She'd squeezed his hand. "Dad?"
A moment later, his eyes had fluttered. "Find your mother," he'd said with a gasp. "Tell her . . . I did my best." And then he'd died.
Birdie hadn't expected him to say anything like that. Her mind had been churning the words around ever since. Through the digging. The funeral. And the burying. Today's glorious sunshine hadn't penetrated the numbness. Not even the call of the gray whale. Only those words: Find your mother.
Birdie would check Dad's crate in the morning. But tonight, she left their cabin and headed for the fire pit with her ten-year-old brother, Brix, who was bouncing-not joyfully-by her side, and her tiny pig trotting behind. Only the five kids remained in the hideout built by their supernatural criminal parents. Forgotten and alone. And they had a lot to talk about.
Tradition
Tenner Cordoba scraped the last serving of fish from the skillet onto his plate as the other four ate around the tree-stump table. The wind picked up, rustling the thick trees, and the surf pounded the shore at high tide. An animal howled far away. Tenner turned sharply toward the noise, narrowing his eyes.
Puerco, Birdie's pig, stirred uneasily. Shh, Birdie said with her mind, and Puerco settled down.
At the far end of the table was Seven Palacio. He was thirteen like Tenner and Birdie and sat camouflaged by shadows and the black parachute-fabric clothes he wore. Next to him, Cabot Stone, eleven-going-on-thirty, ran a hand over her buzz-cut hair and cast a worried glance at Brix to see how he was holding up. He'd stopped crying.
Tenner dropped into the log chair next to Birdie. "Are you doing okay?" he asked her. He looked at his food, then pushed it around with his fork. For once he had little appetite.
"Better," she said. "Thanks." She caught his eye and smiled sadly.
Tenner lowered his gaze. "No problem," he mumbled, then dropped his fork in the dirt and muttered under his breath. After retrieving it and wiping it off, he looked around the table. Everyone was red-eyed and exhausted. It had been the longest day. They'd never buried anyone before.
Louis had told them what to do when the time came, but that hadn't made it any easier. Pushing dirt over his wrapped-up body . . . It had been the hardest thing Tenner had ever done. Birdie and Brix had been sobbing. Seven had leaned on his shovel, his arms shaking, unable to do anything but comfort those two. Cabot had stepped in, her face a mask. She'd dropped the first handful of dirt. Then she'd taken Seven's shovel. Tenner had helped her with the rest of it. He'd cried in the ocean later.
Tenner wanted to go to bed and forget this day. But there was one thing that still needed to happen. A few weeks ago, Tenner had brought Louis some soup and sat next to him to help him eat it. Louis had put down the spoon and taken the boy's hand.
"You can go your own way, Tenner," Louis had said. His hair was only beginning to gray, and it spread wildly on the pillow.
"What do you mean?" Tenner had asked, confused.
"You're not like your parents. You're in charge of your decisions. I believe in you."
"Oh." Tenner's face had burned, but he'd managed a smile. "Thanks, Louis."
"Will you do me a favor?" Louis had closed his eyes and taken a labored breath. His fingers sparked.
Tenner leaned back to avoid injury. "Of course. Anything."
"Continue the tradition. Keep telling the story of the criminals' escape. It's important. Do it after I'm gone."
Tenner had promised.
And now the time had come. "Okay," Tenner said, glancing worriedly at Birdie. He wasn't sure she was ready for this. "I promised your dad we'd do the story after . . . well, you know. So, who's going to start? Birdie or Brix?"
Birdie's face was pained, but she didn't object. The siblings glanced at each other. "Brix should do it," Birdie said. "It's his turn."
Brix sat up. The story had been part of their lives since they were little. All the people in this hideaway had been supernatural, extremely rare compared to the rest of the world. Dad had said it was crucial that the child...
Birdie Golden's fingers were still stained with dirt from digging her father's grave. Tears smudged her cheeks.
"When I'm gone," he'd whispered to her, "look through my crate. I've left you . . ." His fingertips had sparked one last time and gone out, leaving them charcoal-tinged and lifeless. His labored breathing had slowed, and he'd closed his eyes.
Left her what? Or maybe he'd just . . . you know. Left her. "Dad?" Her chest had tightened. She'd squeezed his hand. "Dad?"
A moment later, his eyes had fluttered. "Find your mother," he'd said with a gasp. "Tell her . . . I did my best." And then he'd died.
Birdie hadn't expected him to say anything like that. Her mind had been churning the words around ever since. Through the digging. The funeral. And the burying. Today's glorious sunshine hadn't penetrated the numbness. Not even the call of the gray whale. Only those words: Find your mother.
Birdie would check Dad's crate in the morning. But tonight, she left their cabin and headed for the fire pit with her ten-year-old brother, Brix, who was bouncing-not joyfully-by her side, and her tiny pig trotting behind. Only the five kids remained in the hideout built by their supernatural criminal parents. Forgotten and alone. And they had a lot to talk about.
Tradition
Tenner Cordoba scraped the last serving of fish from the skillet onto his plate as the other four ate around the tree-stump table. The wind picked up, rustling the thick trees, and the surf pounded the shore at high tide. An animal howled far away. Tenner turned sharply toward the noise, narrowing his eyes.
Puerco, Birdie's pig, stirred uneasily. Shh, Birdie said with her mind, and Puerco settled down.
At the far end of the table was Seven Palacio. He was thirteen like Tenner and Birdie and sat camouflaged by shadows and the black parachute-fabric clothes he wore. Next to him, Cabot Stone, eleven-going-on-thirty, ran a hand over her buzz-cut hair and cast a worried glance at Brix to see how he was holding up. He'd stopped crying.
Tenner dropped into the log chair next to Birdie. "Are you doing okay?" he asked her. He looked at his food, then pushed it around with his fork. For once he had little appetite.
"Better," she said. "Thanks." She caught his eye and smiled sadly.
Tenner lowered his gaze. "No problem," he mumbled, then dropped his fork in the dirt and muttered under his breath. After retrieving it and wiping it off, he looked around the table. Everyone was red-eyed and exhausted. It had been the longest day. They'd never buried anyone before.
Louis had told them what to do when the time came, but that hadn't made it any easier. Pushing dirt over his wrapped-up body . . . It had been the hardest thing Tenner had ever done. Birdie and Brix had been sobbing. Seven had leaned on his shovel, his arms shaking, unable to do anything but comfort those two. Cabot had stepped in, her face a mask. She'd dropped the first handful of dirt. Then she'd taken Seven's shovel. Tenner had helped her with the rest of it. He'd cried in the ocean later.
Tenner wanted to go to bed and forget this day. But there was one thing that still needed to happen. A few weeks ago, Tenner had brought Louis some soup and sat next to him to help him eat it. Louis had put down the spoon and taken the boy's hand.
"You can go your own way, Tenner," Louis had said. His hair was only beginning to gray, and it spread wildly on the pillow.
"What do you mean?" Tenner had asked, confused.
"You're not like your parents. You're in charge of your decisions. I believe in you."
"Oh." Tenner's face had burned, but he'd managed a smile. "Thanks, Louis."
"Will you do me a favor?" Louis had closed his eyes and taken a labored breath. His fingers sparked.
Tenner leaned back to avoid injury. "Of course. Anything."
"Continue the tradition. Keep telling the story of the criminals' escape. It's important. Do it after I'm gone."
Tenner had promised.
And now the time had come. "Okay," Tenner said, glancing worriedly at Birdie. He wasn't sure she was ready for this. "I promised your dad we'd do the story after . . . well, you know. So, who's going to start? Birdie or Brix?"
Birdie's face was pained, but she didn't object. The siblings glanced at each other. "Brix should do it," Birdie said. "It's his turn."
Brix sat up. The story had been part of their lives since they were little. All the people in this hideaway had been supernatural, extremely rare compared to the rest of the world. Dad had said it was crucial that the child...
