Mesopo is the land where all fantasy originates, a land whose words and language are in peril. Can Ankido save his father and restore all these words in time?
It was a red velvet box, the size of a school book. Ankido lifted the lid, revealing an old-fashioned quill made out of a reed. It smelled remote and otherworldly. Ancient. And for a reason he couldn’t explain, everything felt all right for a moment.
He thought he caught a sound flowing out of the quill, a word maybe. He wasn’t sure and he shook his head. This was ridiculous. No, he surely must have been mistaken. But there! There was the sound again. This time Ankido was sure of it.
“Mesopo” … whispered in a way that slipped around the room like the warm breeze of the desert.
“Vibrant characters and prose energize this literary adventure.” —Kirkus Reviews