Lucy races against time and magic in this sequel to the “richly and thoughtfully written” ( Publishers Weekly ) Chantress . Lucy is the last Chantress, the only remaining girl who can sing magic into the world. Since she defeated the evil Lord Scargrave, England has changed—and not for the better. With crops failing and the people rebelling, Lucy is called urgently back to King Henry’s court. His Inner Council is convinced that making gold through alchemy will save England. But a critical element to the alchemical process has been stolen. Lucy is tasked with finding it with her magic…or else. And until she succeeds, the castle is on lockdown. Court too has changed. Scargrave’s brutal Chantress Hunter has become King Henry’s closest advisor. Lucy’s beloved Nat has fallen out of favor and is shunned by his colleagues. Worst of all, Lucy’s magic has deserted her. She can no longer hear the song spells at court, and must find a way to access her powers soon—or be accused of treason. Amy Butler Greenfield returns to the volatile world of Chantress for an exciting tale that weaves together courtly intrigue, mystery, romance, magic, and music. In this sequel, Lucy, the last chantress (or spell singer) alive, is called upon to help save the kingdom from hunger, bankruptcy, and civil war. Despite Lucy’s protests that her magic doesn’t work in such a focused way, the king has commanded her to find the crucible needed to turn ordinary objects into gold. But how can Lucy help when her powers have suddenly disappeared?Though some parts of this follow-up to Chantress (2013) could have used more editing, it’s an overall compelling sequel, with plenty of red herrings to keep readers guessing and wondering what’s next in store for the last lady chantress. Grades 8-12. --Candice Mack "Alchemy, feminism and two separate wicked plotters...keep the pages turning." ― Kirkus Reviews "An overall compelling sequel, with plenty of red herrings to keep readers guessing and wondering what’s next in store for the last lady chantress." ― Booklist Online "Readers who prefer action with a touch of fantasy and strong female characters will enjoy this book." ― VOYA Amy Butler Greenfield made her YA debut with Chantress , followed by Chantress Alchemy and Chantress Fury . Originally from the Adirondacks, Amy lives with her husband and daughter in England. Visit her at AmyButlerGreenfield.com. Chantress Alchemy CHAPTER ONE A SONG FROM THE SEA One more spell, that’s all I meant to sing. One more song-spell, and then I’d go home. I blew on my icy fingers and faced the wintery sea. I’d been out for hours, honing my magic, and the sun had long since vanished behind sullen clouds. My boots were damp from the froth of the ocean, my cheeks wet with its salty spray. The wind sawed along my very bones. I thought with longing of the snug cottage I shared with Norrie and the soup that would no doubt be simmering on the fire. Something easy to finish on, I promised myself. Something that won’t go wrong. Clutching my woolen cape, I tilted my ear toward the ocean and its tangle of watery music. A simple song-spell, that’s all I needed. . . . But what was that sound? That distant humming? Forgetting my frozen hands and feet, I listened, perplexed. No one knew better than I that the ocean could sing a thousand songs: music to cradle me, music to drown me, music to call up waves and tides and storms. I was a Chantress, after all. Yet this wasn’t a tune I had heard before. Indeed, its faint thrum was quite unlike any melody I knew. That alone was disturbing. “Lucy!” A woolen bundle clumped toward me: Norrie in her winter wraps. The wind snatched at her hood and cap, and her silver hair stood out like dandelion fluff around her wrinkled face. “You’ve been out here too long,” she called. “You’ll catch your death of cold.” I was about to reply when I heard it again: a disquieting drone in the midst of the sea’s other songs. Norrie marched up to my side, her gait uneven. “Lucy, are you listening to me?” “Yes,” I said quickly. “Of course I am.” But I was listening to the humming, too. If I concentrated hard enough, I usually could make out at least the gist of the sea’s songs. Of all elements, water was the easiest for me to understand. Yet these notes held fast to their secrets. “There’s no of course about it.” Norrie scrutinized my face. “Is something wrong?” “No.” Norrie might be my guardian, but I hated to worry her, especially when I had no clear idea what the trouble was. She wouldn’t be able to hear the song anyway; only a Chantress could do that. “You shouldn’t be out here, Norrie. Not on such a bitter day.” “Maybe not, but what else can I do when you won’t come home?” Norrie said. The elusive drone was fading now. I swung back toward the sea, trying to catch its last echoes. Norrie kept after me. “You’ve been out here since dawn, Lucy. You need to come home now.” The drone was gone. What did it mean? “