Genre Fiction
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The Golden Enclaves: A Novel (The Scholomance)
Saving the world is a test no school of magic can prepare you for in the triumphant conclusion to the New York Times bestselling trilogy that began with A Deadly Education and The Last Graduate.
The one thing you never talk about while you're in the Scholomance is what you'll do when you get out. Not even the richest enclaver would tempt fate that way. But it's all we dream about: the hideously slim chance we'll survive to make it out the gates and improbably find ourselves with a life ahead of us, a life outside the Scholomance halls.
And now the impossible dream has come true. I'm out, we're all out-and I didn't even have to turn into a monstrous dark witch to make it happen. So much for my great-grandmother's prophecy of doom and destruction. I didn't kill enclavers, I saved them. Me and Orion and our allies. Our graduation plan worked to perfection: We saved everyone and made the world safe for all wizards and brought peace and harmony to all the enclaves everywhere.
Ha, only joking! Actually, it's gone all wrong. Someone else has picked up the project of destroying enclaves in my stead, and probably everyone we saved is about to get killed in the brewing enclave war. And the first thing I've got to do now, having miraculously gotten out of the Scholomance, is turn straight around and find a way back in.
The one thing you never talk about while you're in the Scholomance is what you'll do when you get out. Not even the richest enclaver would tempt fate that way. But it's all we dream about: the hideously slim chance we'll survive to make it out the gates and improbably find ourselves with a life ahead of us, a life outside the Scholomance halls.
And now the impossible dream has come true. I'm out, we're all out-and I didn't even have to turn into a monstrous dark witch to make it happen. So much for my great-grandmother's prophecy of doom and destruction. I didn't kill enclavers, I saved them. Me and Orion and our allies. Our graduation plan worked to perfection: We saved everyone and made the world safe for all wizards and brought peace and harmony to all the enclaves everywhere.
Ha, only joking! Actually, it's gone all wrong. Someone else has picked up the project of destroying enclaves in my stead, and probably everyone we saved is about to get killed in the brewing enclave war. And the first thing I've got to do now, having miraculously gotten out of the Scholomance, is turn straight around and find a way back in.
Editorial Reviews
Praise for A Deadly Education
"A gorgeous book about monsters and monstrousness, chockablock with action, cleverness, and wit . . . Naomi Novik deliciously undoes expectations about magic schools, destined heroes, and family legacies."-Holly Black, #1 New York Times bestselling author
"Eyeball-meltingly brilliant . . . Novik is, quite simply, a genius."-Kiersten White, New York Times bestselling author of And I Darken
"The Scholomance is the dark school of magic I've been waiting for, and its wise, witty, and monstrous heroine is one I'd happily follow anywhere-even into a school full of monsters."-Katherine Arden, New York Times bestselling author of The Bear and the Nightingale
"Novik skillfully combines sharp humor with layers of imagination to build a fantasy that delights on every level. I loved this brilliant book."-Stephanie Garber, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Caraval series
"Novik puts a refreshingly dark, adult spin on the magical boarding school. . . . A must-read for fantasy fans."-Publishers Weekly (starred review)
Praise for The Last Graduate
"The climactic graduation-day battle will bring cheers, tears, and gasps as the second of the
Scholomance trilogy closes with a breathtaking cliff-hanger."-Booklist (starred review)
"Sardonic students, gruesome monsters, growing friendships, and a touch of romance create a highly readable story. . . . Book three can't come fast enough."-Library Journal (starred review)
"Naomi Novik's Scholomance series, about kids at a preposterously deadly magical school, stands out in a ridiculou...
"A gorgeous book about monsters and monstrousness, chockablock with action, cleverness, and wit . . . Naomi Novik deliciously undoes expectations about magic schools, destined heroes, and family legacies."-Holly Black, #1 New York Times bestselling author
"Eyeball-meltingly brilliant . . . Novik is, quite simply, a genius."-Kiersten White, New York Times bestselling author of And I Darken
"The Scholomance is the dark school of magic I've been waiting for, and its wise, witty, and monstrous heroine is one I'd happily follow anywhere-even into a school full of monsters."-Katherine Arden, New York Times bestselling author of The Bear and the Nightingale
"Novik skillfully combines sharp humor with layers of imagination to build a fantasy that delights on every level. I loved this brilliant book."-Stephanie Garber, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Caraval series
"Novik puts a refreshingly dark, adult spin on the magical boarding school. . . . A must-read for fantasy fans."-Publishers Weekly (starred review)
Praise for The Last Graduate
"The climactic graduation-day battle will bring cheers, tears, and gasps as the second of the
Scholomance trilogy closes with a breathtaking cliff-hanger."-Booklist (starred review)
"Sardonic students, gruesome monsters, growing friendships, and a touch of romance create a highly readable story. . . . Book three can't come fast enough."-Library Journal (starred review)
"Naomi Novik's Scholomance series, about kids at a preposterously deadly magical school, stands out in a ridiculou...
Short Excerpt Teaser
Chapter 1
the yurt
The last thing Orion said to me, the absolute bastard, was El, I love you so much.
And then he shoved me backwards through the gates of the Scholomance and I landed thump on my back in paradise, the soft grassy clearing in Wales that I'd last seen four years ago, ash trees in full green leaf and sunlight dappling through them, and Mum, Mum right there waiting for me. Her arms were full of flowers: poppies, for rest; anemones, for overcoming; moonwort, for forgetfulness; morning glories, for the dawn of a new day. A welcome-home bouquet for a trauma victim, meant to ease horror out of my mind and make room for healing and for rest, and as she reached to help me, I heaved myself up howling, "Orion!" and sent the whole thing scattering before me.
A few months-aeons-ago, while we'd still been in the midst of our frantic obstacle-course runs, an enclaver from Milan had given me a translocation spell in Latin, the rare kind that you can cast on yourself without splitting yourself into bits. The idea was that I'd be able to use it to hop around from one place to another in the graduation hall-all the better to save people like enclavers from Milan, which is why she'd handed me a spell worth five years of mana for free. You couldn't normally use it to go long distances, but time was more or less the same thing as space, and I'd been in the Scholomance ten seconds before. I had the hall visualized as crisp and clear as an architectural drawing, complete with the horrific mass of Patience and the horde of maleficaria behind it, boiling its way towards us. I was placing myself at the gates, right back where I had been when Orion had given me that final shove.
But the spell didn't want to be cast, putting up resistance like warning signs across the way: dead end, road washed out ahead. I forced it through anyway, throwing mana at it, and the casting rebounded in my face and knocked me down like I'd run straight into a concrete wall. So I got back up and tried the exact same spell again, only to get pasted flat a second time.
My head was ringing bells and noise. I crawled back to my feet. Mum was helping me up, but she was also holding me back, saying something to me, trying to slow me down, but I only snarled at her, "Patience was coming right at him!" and her hands were slack, sliding off me with her own remembered horror.
It had already been two minutes since I'd been dumped out; two minutes was forever in the graduation hall, even before I'd packed it full of all the monsters in the world. But the interruption did stop me just banging my head against the gates repeatedly. I spent a moment thinking, and then I tried to use a summoning to get Orion out, instead.
Most people can't summon anything larger or with more willpower than a hair bobble. But the many summoning spells I've unwillingly collected over the years are all intended to bring me one or more hapless screaming victims, presumably to go into the sacrificial pit I've incomprehensibly neglected to set up. I had a dozen varieties, and one of them that let you scry someone through a reflective surface and pull them out.
It's especially effective if you have a gigantic cursed mirror of doom to use. Sadly I'd left mine hanging on the wall of my dorm room. But I ran around the clearing and found a small puddle of water between two tree roots. That wouldn't have been good enough ordinarily, but I had endless mana flowing into me, the supply line from graduation still open. I threw power behind the spell and forced the muddy puddle smooth as glass and staring down at it called, "Orion! Orion Lake! I call you in the-" I took a quick glance up at the first sunlight and sky I'd seen in four years of longing for them, and the only thing I could feel was desperate frustration that it wasn't dawn or noon or midnight or anything helpful, "-waxing hours of the light, to come to me from the dark-shadowed halls, heeding my word alone," which would very likely mean he'd be under a spell of obedience when he got here, but I'd worry about that later, later after he was here-
The spell did go through this time, and the water churned into a cloud of silver-black that slowly and grudgingly served up a ghostly image ...
the yurt
The last thing Orion said to me, the absolute bastard, was El, I love you so much.
And then he shoved me backwards through the gates of the Scholomance and I landed thump on my back in paradise, the soft grassy clearing in Wales that I'd last seen four years ago, ash trees in full green leaf and sunlight dappling through them, and Mum, Mum right there waiting for me. Her arms were full of flowers: poppies, for rest; anemones, for overcoming; moonwort, for forgetfulness; morning glories, for the dawn of a new day. A welcome-home bouquet for a trauma victim, meant to ease horror out of my mind and make room for healing and for rest, and as she reached to help me, I heaved myself up howling, "Orion!" and sent the whole thing scattering before me.
A few months-aeons-ago, while we'd still been in the midst of our frantic obstacle-course runs, an enclaver from Milan had given me a translocation spell in Latin, the rare kind that you can cast on yourself without splitting yourself into bits. The idea was that I'd be able to use it to hop around from one place to another in the graduation hall-all the better to save people like enclavers from Milan, which is why she'd handed me a spell worth five years of mana for free. You couldn't normally use it to go long distances, but time was more or less the same thing as space, and I'd been in the Scholomance ten seconds before. I had the hall visualized as crisp and clear as an architectural drawing, complete with the horrific mass of Patience and the horde of maleficaria behind it, boiling its way towards us. I was placing myself at the gates, right back where I had been when Orion had given me that final shove.
But the spell didn't want to be cast, putting up resistance like warning signs across the way: dead end, road washed out ahead. I forced it through anyway, throwing mana at it, and the casting rebounded in my face and knocked me down like I'd run straight into a concrete wall. So I got back up and tried the exact same spell again, only to get pasted flat a second time.
My head was ringing bells and noise. I crawled back to my feet. Mum was helping me up, but she was also holding me back, saying something to me, trying to slow me down, but I only snarled at her, "Patience was coming right at him!" and her hands were slack, sliding off me with her own remembered horror.
It had already been two minutes since I'd been dumped out; two minutes was forever in the graduation hall, even before I'd packed it full of all the monsters in the world. But the interruption did stop me just banging my head against the gates repeatedly. I spent a moment thinking, and then I tried to use a summoning to get Orion out, instead.
Most people can't summon anything larger or with more willpower than a hair bobble. But the many summoning spells I've unwillingly collected over the years are all intended to bring me one or more hapless screaming victims, presumably to go into the sacrificial pit I've incomprehensibly neglected to set up. I had a dozen varieties, and one of them that let you scry someone through a reflective surface and pull them out.
It's especially effective if you have a gigantic cursed mirror of doom to use. Sadly I'd left mine hanging on the wall of my dorm room. But I ran around the clearing and found a small puddle of water between two tree roots. That wouldn't have been good enough ordinarily, but I had endless mana flowing into me, the supply line from graduation still open. I threw power behind the spell and forced the muddy puddle smooth as glass and staring down at it called, "Orion! Orion Lake! I call you in the-" I took a quick glance up at the first sunlight and sky I'd seen in four years of longing for them, and the only thing I could feel was desperate frustration that it wasn't dawn or noon or midnight or anything helpful, "-waxing hours of the light, to come to me from the dark-shadowed halls, heeding my word alone," which would very likely mean he'd be under a spell of obedience when he got here, but I'd worry about that later, later after he was here-
The spell did go through this time, and the water churned into a cloud of silver-black that slowly and grudgingly served up a ghostly image ...
