Skandar and the Unicorn Thief meets One Thousand and One Nights in this “action-packed, fantastically imaginative” ( BCCB ) middle grade fantasy from Rick Riordan Presents author Sarwat Chadda about a girl with the magical power to control the elements with her song. In a land ruled by fierce winged warriors known as eagle garudas, twelve-year-old Nargis is just a poor, lowly human, a Worm who hates the garudas that killed her parents. But even though she can’t fly—and her childhood attempt left her walking with a crutch—she is far from powerless. Nargis is a spirit singer: able to coax small bits of wind, water, fire, and earth to do her bidding through song…well, sometimes. When Nargis loses control of her power in a high-stakes kite fight, she is exiled. Cast into the desert, she discovers Mistral, an injured boy who turns out to be an eagle garuda, the prince of her enemies! He’s on a mission to take back his throne from a terrible vulture garuda. In spite of their mutual distrust, the two have no choice but to forge an unlikely alliance if they want to escape the desert alive. And as Nargis and Mistral battle dangerous assassins, befriend crafty sky pirates, and sneak into the mysterious sky castle of Alamut, Nargis discovers she carries a family secret, one that could bring Monsoon’s rains back to the desert, but only if she’s willing to risk her life in the bargain… Spotify's Best Kids Audiobooks of the Year So Far Sarwat Chadda is the New York Times bestselling author of the City of the Plague God duology, the Spiritstone Saga, the Ash Mistry trilogy, the Shadow Magic trilogy, and the Devil’s Kiss duology. He has written for Star Wars and Minecraft as well as the 39 Clues and Spirit Animals series. Sarwat is a first-generation Muslim immigrant of South Asian descent who loves writing over-the-top adventures. His work has received numerous starred reviews and was a Goodreads Choice Best Middle Grade Award Nominee. He has been published in over a dozen languages. Outside of novels, he’s written plays, comic books, and TV shows, including The Legend of Hanuman for Disney+ Hotstar. Sarwat lives in London. Feel free to drop him a line on X at @SarwatChadda and Instagram at @Sarwat_Chadda or visit him at SarwatChadda.com. Chapter 1 CHAPTER 1 My kite was something special. Swifter than a falcon, stronger than an eagle, and more beautiful than a kingfisher, it ruled the sky. It was more than a kite; it was a sky-fighter. A patang. The sun had only just come up, and the desert shimmered with heat. I sat as comfortably as I could manage, in the shade of the rustling leaves of our great old banyan tree, beside my parents’ shrine of piled stones. Sat amongst my paint pots, brushes, and other materials, job finally done. I turned my patang slowly, savoring how the low sunlight shone through the multicolored tissue paper to cast a rainbow blanket over my lap. The fiery red swirls gave it rage. It wouldn’t back down from its opponent, willing to take on anyone, anytime. Next I’d painted blocks of gray for the earth, for power. A sky-fighter, a patang, must be strong. I’d added blue meandering lines. Water was precious, but everyone knew that. Finally, of course, wind. Soft brushstrokes of white for the wind. It was life itself, breath, laughter, secret whispers. All it needed was a name, but that wasn’t up to me. I’d give it to— There was a clatter from the hut. A banging, then a cry. I put my kite down against the tree trunk. “Baba? What’s going on?” “I can’t find my pants!” “Try on top of your head!” “Oye!” he cried, exasperated. “I’ll have none of your cheek, young lady! I am your grandfather and deserve respect! I need to— Ah. Never mind!” It wasn’t the first time Baba had woken up, grabbed the nearest strip of cloth, and wound it around his head, thinking it was his turban. The hut door crashed open, and Baba hopped out, tying up his pants while his turban dangled loosely around his bald head. “Stop dawdling, Nargis! Help me! What are you doing… Oh.” He picked up my kite and cast his expert eye over it. He pushed it in from the sides, testing the flexibility of the bamboo frame, letting it spring back into shape, peering close for any tears in the tissue paper. “Marvelous, a real patang. Got a name for it?” “You know I only build them, Baba.” “Of course, of course.” Baba scratched his chin as he gazed north. “The wind’s been blowing down from the Eyries all week. Perfect for kite season. Did you see the storm last night?” “I saw a shooting star. Fell right out of the clouds.” “You make a wish?” he asked as he struggled with his turban. “What’s wrong with this cloth?” “Nothing. It’s your head that’s all out of shape.” Baba grinned, exposing his few remaining teeth. “It’s my brain. Still expanding with all my deep thoughts! Anyway, did you? Make a wish?” “Of course.” “For what?” he asked. “The usual. Rain.” Baba snorted. “Rain? Here? Carry on wishing,