Family secrets combine with fantasy in this epic tale of battle, magic, strange creatures, power, and fate, in the second novel in a sweeping middle grade series that Publishers Weekly called “ Game of Thrones on a mellow day.” The kingdom of Toronia is being torn apart by civil war. The kingdom’s only hope comes in the form of illegitimate triplets, who are prophesied to kill the king and rule together in peace. Separated at birth and scattered throughout the realms, the triplets face a desperate fight to secure their destiny. Will they survive long enough to rule? The resurrected King Brutan and his army of the dead control the city of Idilliam. Outside, Eloide and Tarlan are trying to hold their own army together and find a way to rescue their brother Gulph who is trapped inside the city. Or is he? Gulph has found a passageway to the lost realm of Celestis, which lies beneath Idilliam. There he is reunited with the mother he has never known—but she can’t remember him. If Gulph stays in Celestis, will he also forget those above ground whom he loves? Meanwhile, Tarlan and the wizard Melchior set out on a quest to restore the wizard’s powers, leaving Eloide and her army to keep watch. But Eloide is betrayed, her troops are slaughtered, and she is taken captive by Lord Vicerin, her former guardian, who is determined to use her to take the throne. Seemingly further from the throne than ever, the triplets will need to use all of their strength and abilities if they are to survive—let alone rule. " . . . this novel reads like Game of Thrones on a mellow day—definitely aimed at the older end of the middle-grade audience." ― Publishers Weekly on Crown of Three (Book 1) "Rinehart presents a compelling variant on the archetypal tale of the evil king and the avenging heir. . . . The epic conclusion will leave readers eager to get their hands on the planned sequel." ― Horn Book on Crown of Three (Book 1) "In this action-packed debut, triplets born to an evil king are spirited away at birth so they will survive tofulfill the prophesy that they will overthrow their father and rule the kingdom. . . the ending races to a rousing finish in preparation for the sequel." ― Booklist on Crown of Three (Book 1) J.D. Rinehart is a pseudonym for author Graham Edwards. When he’s not writing, he can be found exploring castles, watching films, or hiking through the countryside with Sir Galahad, his pet Great Dane. He loves falconry, and once raised a young falcon he found abandoned. He lives in Nottinghamshire, England. The Lost Realm CHAPTER 1 To the postern gate!” shouted Captain Ossilius. “It’s our only chance!” He swung his sword, killing two undead warriors simultaneously. Gulph dodged past his friend, kicking out at the bodies, once, twice, tumbling them end over end down the steep stone stairs, where they scattered the oncoming enemy soldiers like bowling pins. “That should buy us some time,” he gasped. “What’s a postern gate?” “Our last chance.” Together, Gulph and Ossilius climbed the rest of the way up the stairs, ran along the battlement, and plunged down a steep ramp into a small, enclosed courtyard. Here they halted, leaning against each other as they fought for breath. Gulph felt small against the burly, gray-haired captain, and wondered if he would always be as skinny as he was now. Never mind growing up, he thought, massaging the aches from his crooked back, I just wish I’d grow straight. “So where’s this last chance of yours?” he said, stepping away from his companion, who was still struggling to breathe. Ossilius ran a hand through his gray hair and ushered Gulph over to a break in the wall. “Look,” he said, pointing through the shattered stonework toward a squat tower built into the city wall. “I can see what looks like a door,” said Gulph. “What are those things on either side of it? Statues?” Ossilius nodded. “That’s the postern gate.” Gulph stared skeptically at the stretch of ground lying between them and their destination. Swarms of undead warriors were fighting their way through ranks of terrified citizens, and thick smoke shrouded the scene, making it hard to see exactly what was happening. But Gulph could hear the screams clearly enough. All the people of Idilliam wanted was to flee, but even as they tried to escape they were seized and made undead. This was the horror: the enemy didn’t kill you. The enemy made you like itself. “Every time we lose a soldier,” whispered Gulph, “they gain one. How can we ever win?” For a brief moment the smoke surrounding a nearby tower cleared, and King Brutan himself strode into view. Flesh hung from his bones; his blood-streaked clothes flapped in tatters; his eyes burned red with fire. Gulph closed his eyes, trying to remember how Brutan had looked when he’d been alive. But all he could bring to mind was the look of betrayal on the king’s face when he, Gulph, had placed the poisoned crown on his head. I didn’t know