From the bestselling author of The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches comes an action-packed, enchanting middle grade fantasy about a neurodivergent heroine, a mysterious school, and a world of magical creatures. perfect for fans of Rick Riordan and Roshani Chokshi.
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Sangu Mandanna’s Vanya and the Wild Hunt, which is out March 11th 2025.
Eleven-year-old Vanya Vallen has always felt like she doesn’t fit in. She’s British-Indian in a mostly white town in England, her parents won’t talk about their pasts, and she has ADHD.
Oh, and she talks to books. More importantly, the books talk back.
When her family is attacked by a monster she believed only existed in fairytales, Vanya discovers that her parents have secrets, and that there are a lot more monsters out there. Overnight, she’s whisked off to the enchanted library and school of Auramere, where she joins the ranks of archwitches and archivists.
Life at Auramere is unexpected, exciting and wonderful. But even here, there’s no escaping monsters. The mysterious, powerful Wild Hunt is on the prowl, and Vanya will need all her creativity and courage to unmask its leader and stop them before they destroy the only place she’s ever truly belonged.
I examined the door without touching it. It was a shabby and unremarkable thing. “So this is an enchanted door, too?”
“It is. Unlike the one that brought us here, though, this one stays put.”
I turned back to him. There was a glowing, golden wand in his hand that definitely hadn’t been there before.
“How do you keep doing that?” I demanded, staring in fascination at the smooth, metallic wand. It shone with the same light that Jasper’s sword and Mum’s dagger had both had. The way the light flickered and glowed made it look a bit like fire, but I knew from touching the dagger that it hadn’t felt hot. The glow was light, not flames. “Where does the light come fr m?”
Jasper laughed. “You’ll learn all about it soon enough.
Hold out your hand.”
I did, but warily. “Why?”
“I’m going to sketch a rune into your palm.” He wiggled the wand to illustrate the point. “Don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing. And it only has to be done once. May I?” Taking my hand in his free one, he turned it over to expose my palm and started sketching quick lines over it with the wand. It tickled. “It’s called the Rune of Welcome. It’s the only way to pass through the gates of Auramere.”
Lines of golden light took shape on my palm. An incomplete circle, a small second circle to close the gap, and then two diagonal lines just outside. The symbol glowed for a few seconds and then faded into the skin of my palm like it had never been there.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” said Jasper cheerfully. “Auramere is yours now.”
There was something thrilling about that. It felt big. It felt like it meant something.
It felt like it meant everything.
“Let’s go,” I said, too excited and impatient to wait any longer.
Jasper opened the door. “After you.”
One more enchanted doorway to walk through. One more magical threshold to cross.
One more step, and I was in Auramere.
I stood at the edge of a beautiful valley. There was so much to see that all I could make sense of at first were the big things, the huge swaths of color. Ahead, the deep greens and misty, flowery blues of the Nilgiris were a backdrop against the sky. The closest mountain, a green giant, stood to the right like a watchful guardian. Thick, wild forests climbed the mountains and spread out across the rolling edges of the valley. Except for one edge, on the far left, where there was just a strange white mist.
There was a lot of water, too. A big rocky pool to the right, another smaller one to the left. Little creeks and brooks. Two bright waterfalls burst out of the rocks and woods halfway up the big mountain and trickled lazily to the bottom. A slender river babbled across the entire length of the valley, ending abruptly at the white mist.
My eyes gobbled it all up. I started to notice other things, too, like the herd of deer and the handful of cute, chubby horses grazing on the open grassland this side of the river. Or the town nestled on the other side of the river, with its thatched and tiled roofs, little turrets, and smoking chimneys. I couldn’t see much else because it was partly hidden by tall, knobbly trees with round heads of leaves in the usual vivid greens but also in jewel-bright purples and ochres and reds.
And then there was—
“The Arcane Archive,” Jasper said. “Otherwise known as the actual library.”
It didn’t look like any library I’d been to before. It was a tall castle built up the side of the mountain. The waterfalls tumbled down on either side of the castle, framing it, and made a wide, twisty moat around the bottom before finally meeting in one place to become the river.
That said, castle probably wasn’t the right word to describe the Archive. It was more like a collection of towers, like a whimsical wizard came along one day and went Abracadabra, now you’re stuck with each other!
There were nine towers in all. Eight of them were slender and of different, staggered heights. The ninth, in the front and middle, was the tallest and stoutest. Each tower’s roof was tiled with a different color, from a vivid azure to a deep earthy brown, and all the roofs narrowed to a spiky point. As for the towers themselves, they were all roughly the same honey color with tons of gabled windows and balconies, but they didn’t look like they were made out of stone. I was too far away to be completely sure, but instead of the usual brick-like pattern, the exterior walls of the towers seemed to have a grain like wood did. Like maybe they’d grown right out of the forest.
It was perfect.
When I’d seen everything I could possibly see from up here, I looked over to see that there was a grin on Jasper’s face. “It never gets old.”
“What doesn’t?” I asked.
“The look on someone’s face the first time they see Auramere. Roman will be sorry he missed it.” Jasper tsked at himself. “I should have taken a photograph, really. My phone’s right here in my pocket. I didn’t think.”
The idea of Jasper whipping out a shiny smartphone in the middle of this otherworldly, magical place struck me as absurdly funny for some reason. “Phones work here?” Swords and wands, I could get my head round, but apparently the idea of mobile phone service was a step too far.
“They do indeed,” said Jasper. “Phones, the internet, Google. I don’t know what I’d do without Google. There’s a Rune of Transmission etched into the border between us and the rest of the world. It keeps us connected.”
I looked over my shoulder at the cabin door we’d walked through, and saw that from this side there was no sign of the cabin or the shabby door at all. Instead, we’d entered through a pair of arched, wrought-iron gates on which leafy, flowery vines grew wild. A stone wall covered in the same vines stretched out from either side of the gates, transitioning quite quickly into lush, deep forest.
“Aha!” I heard Jasper say triumphantly, and turned to see he had his phone out. “The way you looked at the gates wasn’t quite the same, but it’ll do. You don’t mind, do you?”
I didn’t mind at all. I didn’t want to see the photograph, just in case it was embarrassing, but I thought it was sweet that Jasper cared enough about my reaction to Auramere that he wanted to capture it and show it to Roman. It felt like the kind of thing family did, and I’d never had much family before.
“You haven’t actually told me who Roman is,” I pointed out.
“Haven’t I? Roman’s my husband. He’s known your mum and dad about as long as I have. He was in the year above us when we were at school. He’s an archivist like your dad,” Jasper added, rocking back and forth on his heels again. “He’s the Lead Archivist at the moment, actually. That means he’s in charge of the library. What time is it? Hmm, he’ll be in Blackthorn Needle right now, so we can catch him if we’re quick.”
We started down a winding stone path in the direction of the Arcane Archive. “What’s Blackthorn Needle?”
“It’s one of the towers.”
“You’re Jasper Blackthorn,” I pointed out somewhat unnecessarily, curious. “Are you named after the tower or is the tower named after you?”
Jasper laughed. “Neither. It’s part of the Archive, so it doesn’t have its own name. I mean, it probably does, but it’ll be something boring. Roman and I live there, and as you can see, most of the towers’ roofs narrow to a point like a needle, so I started calling our tower Blackthorn Needle.” He paused, like something had just struck him. “I’m sorry, Vanya, I haven’t even asked if you’re okay with staying in the tower with Roman and me. It’s a bit of a mess, but— ”
“Oh!” My cheeks reddened. “Um, yes. I mean, that’s fine with me. Unless you’d rather I went somewhere else?”
“What? No, we’d love to have you! It’s just that if you’d prefer to stay at the inn— ”
“Why would I want to stay at the inn?”
“That’s where some of the other kids stay, the ones whose families don’t live here.”
I shook my head at once, probably looking a lot more panicked than was reasonable. I was still trying to figure out what was an ADHD thing and what was a me thing, but whatever the explanation was, the only way I could cope with long, noisy days surrounded by other people was by retreating into my own space after.
“I’d much rather stay with you,” I said. “It’s weird, I know, because I bet most kids would love to stay at an inn with other kids and have sleepovers all the time, but I just— I mean, I can’t— ” I realized my voice sounded way too jittery. I took a deep breath. “I just don’t want to be a bother, that’s all, so if it would be easier for you if I— ”
“You don’t ever have to worry about being a bother, Vanya,” Jasper said seriously. “Roman and I want to know if something’s bothering you. Okay?”
I wasn’t sure I believed that, but I nodded.
As we approached a stone bridge that arched over the meeting point of the two waterfalls, I noticed something odd about the little chubby horses grazing close by.
“Those horses have horns,” I said, pointing.
Actually, they had one horn.
“They’re unicorns. Of course they have horns.”
“That’s not what unicorns look like!”
Jasper looked amused. “What were you expecting?
Tall, graceful, skinny horses with sparkling horns?” I felt a little silly. “Um. Yes?”
“Real unicorns look like that,” said Jasper, grinning. “Like fat Shetland ponies with shaggy legs, tufty tails, and stubby horns. More like donkeys than horses. Adorable, but not graceful. Their horns are full of magic, and like the ivory in an elephant’s tusks, it makes them a target for poachers. They’re safe here, though. We only ever harvest a unicorn’s horn after it’s lived a long life and died of old age.” Jasper reached into his pocket, pulled out what looked like a handful of nuts, and tossed them in the direction of the unicorns. The smallest of the three nosed the others out of the way to get to the nuts first. “They’re lazy, sweet- tempered creatures, which makes them a good first mount for young children. You’ll learn all about them at the Fable Stable.”
“At the what?”
“You’re going to have to be patient, Vanya,” Jasper said, looking like he was thoroughly enjoying himself.
Patient? Me? He might as well ask me to grow wings!
We crossed the stone bridge. I looked over the side at the clear, cerulean water of the river, then followed its winding path all the way to the edge of Auramere where the land, peculiarly, just stopped and became that white mist I’d noticed earlier.
“What’s that?” I asked, hoping the answer wouldn’t be Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.
“The mist? That’s where the Wandering Sea ought to be. It’ll be back in a couple of days, at the end of the month.”
I stopped short in the middle of the bridge and studied his twinkling eyes, looking for any sign that he was joking. “What do you mean, it’ll be back? How can a sea go anywhere?”
“It’s the Wandering Sea,” Jasper repeated, clicking his tongue like the answer ought to be obvious. “It goes to visit its grandma every now and then.”
To be fair, that probably wasn’t even the weirdest thing I’d discovered in the last twenty- four hours.
On the other side of the bridge, the path continued all the way to the arched doors of the Archive. The river forked into two, gurgling over shallow, rocky beds to the bottom of the waterfalls, which were tucked away out of sight behind trees and rolling grounds. From where I stood on the path, I could see a rocky swimming pool, the rooftops and turrets of smaller buildings attached to the towers of the Archive, the edge of an orchard of fruit trees, and a single teenager whacking a tree trunk with what looked like a fencing sword.
“It seems quiet,” I said doubtfully, eyeing the teenager and wondering where everyone else was.
“Summer break,” Jasper explained. “You’re used to July and August summers, but here in this part of the world, it’s April and May. If they’re not on an assignment, most people spend their May away on holiday or back home with their families. The Auramere school year starts in a couple of weeks. Believe me, it’ll be anything but quiet then.”
Instead of heading up to the doors of the Archive, Jasper left the path and started walking away to the left. I followed, confused. “Isn’t the library back that way?”
“Let’s get rid of your stuff first,” Jasper said over his shoulder. He led me along the wall of the largest tower, across neatly cut grass that did nothing to disguise the knobbly, sloping ground beneath, and then around the edge of a tall and skinny tower with a red roof. We were definitely making our way uphill, up the side of the mountain.
Before I could get too nervous about where, exactly, Jasper planned to get rid of my stuff, we came to a stop beside a different tower. It was not one of the taller towers, maybe only about six or seven stories in all, but because it was set a little higher up the side of the mountain, it held its own amongst the others. Its roof was tiled in a warm golden green. I let out an involuntary noise of delight. “This is Blackthorn Needle, isn’t it?”
“The best of all the towers,” Jasper said cheerfully. “There’s a much more practical way of getting in, but I thought you might like to try the fun way for your first time.”
I couldn’t see a door in the honey-colored tower in front of me, just windows and gables and balconies and big wall planters bursting with flowers, but Jasper didn’t seem to think this was an obstacle. He pointed to the planters.
“Pick one.”
“Sorry?”
“Pick a flower box. One that’s within reach.”
I gave him a wary look, then pointed to the planter that happened to be nearest.
“Now hop on.”
“Hop on the planter?” I demanded.
“Yep.” Chuckling at the look on my face, Jasper took my suitcase from me, stepped lightly onto a flower box that was set a little higher on the wall, and sat down on the stone rim, legs dangling. “Like this.” I tentatively copied him.
Jasper knocked on the wall. And the planters moved.
I swallowed a yelp, almost fell back into the cluster of flowers planted behind me, and clutched the edges of the stone I was sitting on for dear life. Like one of those toy trains that goes round and round to the top of a mountain, our flower boxes wound their way up the tower.
Was anything in this place normal?
The flower boxes came to a stop with a click, depositing us at a balcony on what must have been the sixth floor of the tower.
The balcony was small, with potted plants, French doors standing open, and climbing ivy. There was also a lanky man standing in the open doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Really?” the man said, rolling his eyes. “Is this what we’ve come to? Showing off to an eleven- year- old?”
“The flower boxes have the best view,” Jasper insisted. I decided not to mention that I’d been too terrified to even notice the view.
“You call them flower boxes,” said the other man. “I call them death traps.”
“Don’t listen to Roman,” Jasper said to me. “He’s the sensible one. Yuck. I’m her favorite uncle, Roman. You can’t win her over.”
“We’ll see,” Roman said mildly, and I laughed. He had kind eyes and brown hair that was going gray at the temples. He sounded a lot like the Cambridge professors who often visited the bookshop. He smiled at me. “I’d know you anywhere. You look so much like your mother.”
“We just came to say hi and drop off Vanya’s things,” Jasper said. “I thought I’d take her to meet Amma and then show her— ”
A single, sharp trill interrupted him. It was the familiar sound of an incoming text. Jasper immediately reached for his phone, his expression darkening. In an instant, twinkly- eyed Jasper was gone and the graver, grimmer version of him was back.
“I have to go.” Jasper looked at Roman, his expression saying something I couldn’t understand, and then looked down at me. “Roman will get you settled in, but I’ll see you later, okay?”
My heart sank. “Is it an Old One?” “It’s always an Old One,” said Jasper, and left.
