Growing Up & Facts of Life
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Map of Flames (The Forgotten Five, Book 1)
X-Men meets Spy Kids in this instant New York Times bestseller! Here's the first book in a new middle-grade fantasy/adventure series from the authorofThe 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:
A New York Times Bestseller
An Indie Bestseller
"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
A New York Times Bestseller
An Indie Bestseller
"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
M. ReyesMelissa A
My 8yo son is a big reader. After finishing Map Of Flames, he said it was the best book he’s ever read!! This book is fantastic! There are 5 main characters—all of them equally lovable. There is so much mystery, suspense, and adventure—kids (and adults!) are going to absolutely LOVE this story. Humor, heroic quests, AND a pig sidekick?! What more could you ask for? Can’t wait to get my hands on book 2 in November!
MJM. ReyesMelissa
Lisa McMann has created a whole new cast of characters who will connect with young readers. 5 children with superpowers embark on a journey to discover the truth about their criminal parents. Students who are fans of super heroes, adventure, or magic are sure to devour this book. I cannot wait to put this book into the hands of my students! (I also can’t wait for book 2!)
PA Girl!MJM. Reye
An eight year old may enjoy Map of Flames, but so did this 76-year-old. This is a beautifully written book, a flowing story, meaningful values and standards, charmingly idiosyncratic and unusual characters, and a hard-to-put-down adventure tale. I read it in two days. I don't know how to get the word out to adults that Lisa McMann writes for all ages of imaginative, curious readers. We can't let just the kids have all the best books!
JenngaferPA Girl!
Adventure mixed with familial drama. Survival mode for kids and powers.
Kate HansenJennga
Loved "Map of Flames" by Lisa McMann!!! I loved all the characters and the story was packed with twist and turns! I really felt for all the characters as they left the island and went to Estero, navigating a world that they had only heard stories about-each with their own vulnerabilities. I can't wait for "The Invisible Spy"!
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 promi...
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 promi...
