By Barbara Quick
Alessandra is desirous to escape.
Desperate to flee her stepmother, who's locked her away for a 12 months; to flee the cloister that awaits her and the wedding plans which were made for her; to flee the expectancies that restrict her and each different lady in fourteenth-century Italy. There's no tolerance in her quiet village for Alessandra and her prepared intelligence and unconventional ideas.
In defiant pursuit of her goals, Alessandra undertakes an audacious quest, her bravery equaled basically by means of the risks she faces. Disguised and on my own in a urban of spies and students, Alessandra will discover a love she couldn't foresee -- and a permanent fame.
In this beautiful imagining of the centuries-old tale of Alessandra Giliani, the world's first lady anatomist, acclaimed novelist Barbara quickly provides readers the drama, romance, and wealthy old element for which she is named she shines a gentle on an unforgotten -- and unforgettable -- heroine.
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Extra resources for A Golden Web
He seemed to cross her mind every few minutes-how had one random conversation been so brain-rattling? The teachers always warned about getting too involved with pretties. Since the mind-rain, they weren’t as innocent as they looked. They could mess with your head so easily, just by gazing at you with those huge, gorgeous eyes. Of course, Frizz wasn’t like that. She’d checked the city interface after classes, and Ren had been right about Radical Honesty: They couldn’t lie, or even imply a falsehood.
Sorry,” she squeaked, and stepped onto the board. “But I have to go after someone. ” He bowed, his smile broadening. ” She leaned forward and shot into the darkness, his laughter in her ears. UNDERGROUND Eden Maru knew how to fly. Full-body lifter rigs were standard gear for hoverball players, but most people never dared to wear them. Each piece had its own lifter: the shin and elbow pads, even the boots in some rigs. One wrong twitch of your fingers could send all those magnets in different directions, which was an excellent way to dislocate a shoulder, or send you spinning headfirst into a wall.
The door opened, and Aya stepped inside. Hiro’s rooms were garlanded with a million cranes. It was an old custom from pre-Rusty days, one of the few that had survived the Prettytime: When a girl turned thirteen, she made a string of a thousand origami birds with her own two hands. It took weeks of folding little squares of paper into wings and beaks and tails, then stringing them together with an old-fashioned needle and thread. After the mind-rain, a few girls had started a new trend: sending their finished strings to reputation-crushes, new-pretty boys with big face ranks.