While on vacation, Emily Windsnap finds herself swept up in an ancient prophecy as the New York Times best-selling series continues. Emily is headed to a tropical island for a relaxing vacation with friends and family. And this time, Emily promises her best friend, Shona, there will be absolutely no adventure — just plenty of fun. But somehow excitement always seems to find Emily, and before she knows it, she ends up on the other side of a powerful waterfall on a forgotten island no one else can get to. Well, no one that isn’t a half-mer like Emily and her boyfriend, Aaron. The people who live on the island believe in a prophecy that foretells how they can be saved from an imminent, devastating earthquake — and this prophecy seems to revolve around Emily and Aaron, as well as a mysterious, mythic giant. Will they be able to find the giant — and fulfill the prophecy — before it’s too late? Emily's fast-paced, first-person narration lends immediacy to her latest quixotic quest, one that tests the bonds of friendship and closes with a surprising twist. Spot art reinforces the maritime theme; friendship and relationship angst ground the story emotionally... Exciting new adventures, risks, and mysteries for Emily Windsnap fans . —Kirkus Reviews This book has it all: tested friendships, danger, young love, fantasy, adventure, and mystery and all of this is wrapped up in secrets that are strategically revealed. Young readers won’t be able to put this one down . —Story Monsters Ink Liz Kessler is the author of the New York Times best-selling Emily Windsnap series as well as three adventures about Philippa Fisher and her fairy godsister. She is also the author of the middle-grade novels A Year Without Autumn, North of Nowhere, and Has Anyone Seen Jessica Jenkins? Liz Kessler lives in England. The first sign of trouble was the rain. Rain that fell like a river. Like a torrent. Like an avalanche crashing down with such ferocity some thought it would split the earth in two. Others argued the earth could not break — but that it might perhaps be drowned. Most didn’t argue at all. They ran. They hid. They protected themselves and their families as well as they could, waiting out a storm the likes of which no one had ever seen before. The likes of which no one would have thought possible. The likes of which, surely, could have been created only by magic. Nothing of this earth could produce such ferocity. The rain continued on and on as hours spilled into days. It fell into the ocean with such relentless force that the sea levels rose. It swirled across swells, rising into mountainous peaks, drilled down into whirlpools, and darkened the sky so that it seemed the rain had even drowned the sun. And then, like a hungry shark closing in on its prey, like a wizard finding the perfect ingredient for his spell, the rain homed in on what it was looking for: the island in the center of the ocean. An island with no more than a hundred inhabitants. But the rain wanted only one of them. Elsewhere, the sky lightened. But not above this island. Above the island, it seemed all the darkness of the world, the darkness of a thousand nights, the darkness of the most tortured soul, was gathered together into one cloud. The cloud was now so large, it was as if the very fabric of space had opened up to swallow the island whole. For a moment, the world held its breath. And then the cloud erupted. Like a giant dragon breathing fire, the darkness unleashed its demons upon the island. Down they rained, sparks flying across the sky like fireworks as the spell was cast. Then the rain and the lightning focused on the center of the island, boring a hole all the way through it. Enormous arrows of rain continued to pour down all around, so hard that the island’s edges were beaten and hewn into rough, ragged cliffs, gigantic, jagged teeth that refused to let anyone in or out of the land beyond them. Tides rose: huge, angry swells that seemed would never again become calm. Eventually, the cloud reached the final side of the island. The longest, straightest edge. The first cannonball of rain crashed against the foot of the cliffs so hard that it dented the cliff itself. The second punched a hole above the first. Three more times the cloud fired explosions of water at the cliff, higher and higher, as if it were chasing its prey to the top. Who was the prey though? The people retreated as the balls of water crashed into their land. Each explosion sent them deeper and deeper into the island’s hidden forest, forced them into shelters, and contained them in clearings and caves. There were those who saw a large figure rising out of the water — a figure of giant, contorted proportions. There were those who heard words streaking through the air. “Betrayed me . . .” “We had a deal . . .” “Never forgive . . .” The words grew softer as the rain climbed higher and hi