Diana Wynne Jones’s Magic and Myths Collection
The Game
Power of Three
Eight Days of Luke
Dogsbody
Copyright Contents Cover Title Page Copyright The Game Power of Three Eight Days of Luke Dogsbody Keep Reading About the Author Also by the Author About the Publisher
This e-book collection first published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children's Books 2015
HarperCollins Children's Books
An Imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
Text copyright © Diana Wynne Jones 1975, 1976, 2007
Collection cover design © HarperCollins Publishers 2015
The Game cover illustration © by Rob Ryan 2007
Power of Three illustrations copyright © by David Wyatt 2001
Eight Days of Luke illustrations copyright © by David Wyatt 2000
Dogsbody illustrations copyright © by Tim Stevens 2000
The authors and illustrators assert the moral right to be identified as the authors and illustrators of this work.
The Game first published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books 2008
Power of Three first published in paperback by Collins Voyager 2001
Eight Days of Luke first published in paperback by Collins 2000
Dogsbody first published in paperback by Collins 2000
www.dianawynnejones.com
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Source ISBNs:
The Game : 9780007281985 Power of Three : 9780007388554 Eight Days of Luke : 9780007439713 Dogsbody : 9780007439720 Ebook Edition © JANUARY 2015 ISBN: 9780008127404 Version: 2014-12-18
Cover
Title Page Diana Wynne Jones’s Magic and Myths Collection The Game Power of Three Eight Days of Luke Dogsbody
Copyright
The Game
Power of Three
Eight Days of Luke
Dogsbody
Keep Reading
About the Author
Also by the Author
About the Publisher
by
This one is for Frances
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
More Than a Story
CHAPTER ONE
When Hayley arrived at the big house in Ireland, bewildered and in disgrace, rain was falling and it was nearly dark. Her cousin Mercer had called the place just “the Castle”. As far as Hayley could see, peering up at the place while Cousin Mercer was paying the taxi, the building was a confusing mixture of house and castle and barn. She could see turrets and sharply sloping roofs, tall chimneys, a wooden wall and a stone part at one side that seemed to have been patched up with new bricks. Then the taxi drove off in a spurt of mud.
Cousin Mercer – who had confused Hayley all along by turning out to be a grown up youngish man and not a cousin her own age – picked up Hayley’s small old-fashioned suitcase and hurried her into the house, where it was more than ever confusing.
They came into a large stone-floored dining room full of people milling about around the enormous dining table, or in and out of the big kitchen beyond. Most of them were children, but all older-seeming and larger than Hayley, while distracted-looking ladies, who were probably aunts, pushed this way and that among them with piles of plates and baskets of bread.
Nobody took any notice of Hayley at all. True, somebody said, “Good. She’s here. Now we can eat at last”, but nobody really looked at her. Cousin Mercer left Hayley standing beside her suitcase and threaded his way to the kitchen, shouting, “Mother! Sorry about this. The plane was late and the taxi driver lost the way!”
Hayley stood. Her arms hung slightly outwards from the rest of her and her hands dangled, useless and floppy with strangeness. She had never been in the same room with so many people in her life. She was used to the hushed and sequestered way Grandma and Grandad lived, where nobody ran about or laughed much, and nobody ever shouted. These people were so lively and so loud . She didn’t know who any of them were, apart from Cousin Mercer who had brought her here from England, and she missed her friend Flute acutely, even though it was probably Flute’s fault that she was here and in disgrace. She still didn’t understand how she had made Grandma so angry.
Hayley sighed. The other main thing about these tall, rushing, shouting children was that they all wore jeans or long baggy trousers with lots of pockets down the sides, and bright stripy tops. Hayley sadly realised that her neat floral dress and her shiny patent-leather shoes were quite wrong for this place. She wished she had jeans and trainers too, but Grandma disapproved of trousers for girls.
To add to the strangeness, there were more boys here than girls. Most of the boys were fair and skinny, like the girls – and the girls were so pretty and so confident that Hayley sighed again – but two of the boys stood out by being dark. One was a tall, calm boy who didn’t seem to shout as much as the others. He was obviously popular, because the others were always trying to get his attention. “ Troy! ” they shouted. “Come and look at my new trick!” or “Troy! What do you think of this ?” Troy always grinned and went obligingly over to look.
The other dark boy was smaller and he struck Hayley as a perfect little beast. He spent his time slyly pulling the beautiful streaming hair of the girls, or stamping on people’s feet, or trying to steal things out of the pockets in the baggy trousers. Hayley learnt his name too, because every minute or so someone screamed, “Tollie, do that again and you’ll die !”
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