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Beka Cooper: The Hunt Records




  “Tamora Pierce creates epic worlds populated by girls and women of bravery, heart, and strength. Her work inspired a generation of writers and continues to inspire us.”

  —HOLLY BLACK, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “Few authors can slay so effectively with a single sentence—I mean fist-in-the-air, shouting-at-my-book slay—as Tamora Pierce. All these years later, I still draw strength from her words.”

  —MARIE LU, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “Tamora Pierce is a pillar, an icon, and an inspiration. Cracking open one of her marvelous novels always feels like coming home.”

  —SARAH J. MAAS, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “Tamora Pierce is a seminal figure in the fantasy field of writing, turning out one terrific book after another.”

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  “Tamora Pierce is the queen of YA fantasy, and we are all happy subjects in her court.”

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  “Tamora Pierce is an epic trailblazer in girl-powered, feminist fantasy.”

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  “Tamora Pierce’s novels gave me a different way of seeing the world.”

  —ALAYA DAWN JOHNSON, award-winning author of Love Is the Drug

  BEKA COOPER TRILOGY

  Terrier

  Bloodhound

  Mastiff

  THE NUMAIR CHRONICLES

  Tempests and Slaughter

  PROTECTOR OF THE SMALL QUARTET

  First Test

  Page

  Squire

  Lady Knight

  TRICKSTER’S DUET

  Trickster’s Choice

  Trickster’s Queen

  THE IMMORTALS QUARTET

  Wild Magic

  Wolf-Speaker

  Emperor Mage

  The Realms of the Gods

  THE SONG OF THE LIONESS QUARTET

  Alanna: The First Adventure

  In the Hand of the Goddess

  The Woman Who Rides Like a Man

  Lioness Rampant

  Tortall: A Spy’s Guide

  Tortall and Other Lands: A Collection of Tales

  Terrier, Bloodhound, and Mastiff are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Terrier text copyright © 2006 by Tamora Pierce

  Bloodhound copyright © 2009 by Tamora Pierce

  Mastiff copyright © 2011 by Tamora Pierce

  Bone’s Day Out text copyright © 2014 by Tamora Pierce

  Excerpt from Tempests and Slaughter text copyright © 2018 by Tamora Pierce

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

  GetUnderlined.com

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com

  The novels contained in this omnibus were each published separately by Ember, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York, in 2006, 2009 and 2011.

  Ebook ISBN 9780449813171

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  v3.1_r2

  Contents

  Cover

  Tortall Books by Tamora Pierce

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Terrier

  Bloodhound

  Mastiff

  Bonus: Bone’s Day Out

  Excerpt from Tempests and Slaughter

  About the Author

  “Pierce now looks back into the history of Tortall and finds another fierce, lovable gal who won’t take any guff….Pierce deftly handles the novel’s journal structure, and her clear homage to the police-procedural genre applies a welcome twist to the girl-legend-in-the-making story line.”

  —Booklist

  “With its rollicking adventure, appealing characters, and inclusion of Tortall’s history, Terrier will be in strong demand by Pierce’s fans.”

  —SLJ

  “The fun of this offering is in the dynamic characterization and action that take readers to Beka’s inevitable triumph.”

  — The Horn Book Magazine

  “Pierce’s leisurely, detailed introduction and exploration of characters result in a diverse and memorable cast.”

  —The Bulletin

  “Fans of Pierce’s previous forays into medieval fantasy…will likely savor every page.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2006 by Tamora Pierce

  Cover art copyright © 2018 by Abraham Garcia

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Ember, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York. Originally published in hardcover in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, New York, in 2006.

  Ember and the E colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

  Visit us on the Web! GetUnderlined.com

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com

  The Library of Congress has ca
taloged the hardcover edition of this work as follows:

  Pierce, Tamora.

  Terrier / Tamora Pierce.

  p. cm. — (Beka Cooper; bk. 1)

  Summary: When sixteen-year-old Beka becomes “Puppy” to a pair of “Dogs,” as the Provost’s Guards are called, she uses her police training, natural abilities, and a touch of magic to help them solve the case of a murdered baby in Tortall’s Lower City.

  ISBN 978-0-375-81468-6 (trade) — ISBN 978-0-375-91468-3 (lib. bdg.) — ISBN 978-0-375-84315-0 (ebook)

  [1. Police—Fiction. 2. Magic—Fiction. 3. Fantasy.] I. Title. II. Series: Pierce, Tamora. Beka Cooper; bk. 1.

  PZ7.P61464Ter 2006 [Fic]—dc22 2006014834

  ISBN 978-0-375-83816-3 (tr. pbk.)

  2018 Ember Edition

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  eBook ISBN: 978-0-375-84315-0

  v3.0_r3

  To Tim

  This one’s all yours.

  It’s time.

  And you deserve this and more,

  for putting all that effort into us.

  Contents

  Master - Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Map

  Prologue

  March 18, 406 [H.E.: the Human Era]

  From the Journal of Mistress Ilony Cooper

  Novembur 13, 240

  From the Journal of Matthias Tunstall

  November 13, 244

  The Journal of Rebakah Cooper

  Wednesday, April 1, 246

  Thursday, April 2, 246

  Friday, April 3, 246

  Saturday, April 4, 246

  Sunday, April 5, 246

  Monday, April 6, 246

  Tuesday, April 7, 246

  Wednesday, April 8, 246

  Thursday, April 9, 246

  Friday, April 10, 246

  Saturday, April 11, 246

  Sunday, April 12, 246

  Tuesday, April 14, 246

  Wednesday, April 15, 246

  Friday, April 17, 246

  Sunday, April 19, 246

  Monday, April 20, 246

  Tuesday, April 21, 246

  Wednesday, April 22, 246

  Thursday, April 23, 246

  Saturday, April 25, 246

  Tuesday, April 28, 246

  Wednesday, April 29, 246

  Thursday, April 30, 246 Beltane

  Friday, May 1, 246

  Saturday, May 2, 246

  Tuesday, May 5, 246

  Thursday, May 7, 246

  Friday, May 8, 246

  Saturday, May 9, 246

  Sunday, May 10, 246

  Monday, May 11, 246

  Wednesday, May 13, 246

  Thursday, May 14, 246

  The Provost’s Guard

  Cast of Characters

  Glossary

  Acknowledgments

  FROM THE JOURNAL OF ELENI COOPER, RESIDENT, WITH HER SIX-YEAR-OLD SON, GEORGE COOPER, OF SPINDLE LANE, THE LOWER CITY, CORUS, THE REALM OF TORTALL

  In all those lessons for which I was made to memorize chants and prayers I never used, couldn’t our temple priestesses have taught one—just one!—lesson on what to do with a boy who is too smart for his own good?

  I am at my wit’s end! My George was taken up for stealing and I had to go to the Jane Street Guard station.

  I thought I might die of the shame. I know it is this place and the friends he makes here. Even the families who do not teach their children the secrets of theft look the other way because it puts food on the table. And I am too newly come. I cannot tell them, “Keep your children away from my son. Do not let them teach him to steal.”

  I want him to rise in the world. We are poor now, but I pray we will not always be so. And I cannot afford a better place to live. My family will not have me back, not after our last meeting. So I am left here, trying to raise a lad who sees and hears and thinks too much, in the city’s worst slum.

  At the station there my scapegrace was, seated on a bench with the Guard who’d caught him. “It was but a handful of coins left on a counter, Mistress Cooper,” the Guard said. “And I recovered them all. It’s his first time, and I owe you for makin’ my wife’s labor so easy.” He looked at George. “Next time it’s the cages for you, and maybe a work farm,” he warned. “Don’t go makin’ your good mother weep.”

  I grabbed George’s arm and towed him out of there. We’d no sooner passed through the gate into the street when he tells me, “Up till a hundred year ago they was called Dogs, Ma.” He was talking broad Lower City slang, knowing it made me furious. “Ye know why they changed it? They thought folk mightn’t respect ’em if they went about callin’ them after curs like they done for three hundred—”

  I boxed his ear. “I’ll have no history lessons from you, Master Scamp!” I cried, tried beyond my sense of dignity. “You’ll keep your tongue between your teeth!” Everyone we passed was smirking at us. They knew our tale, knew I’d been dismissed from the temple. They believed I thought myself better than they were, because I kept my home and my child as clean as may be and taught him his letters. Let them think it. We will not always live in the Cesspool. My George is meant for better things.

  Thieving is not among them, I swear it.

  When I got him to our rooms, I let him go. He stared at me with his hazel eyes, so like mine. The beaky nose and square chin were his father’s, a temple worshiper I saw but for one night. George would be the kind of man women would think was so homely he was handsome, if he lived. I had to make certain he would live.

  “The shame of it!” I told him. “George Cooper, how am I to face folk? Stealing! My son, stealing!”

  He looked me boldly in the face. “We’re gettin’ no richer from your healin’ and magickin’, Ma. I hate bein’ hungry all the time.”

  That cut me. I knew he was hungry. Did I not divide my share so he had more, and it still wasn’t enough? So he would not see me in tears, and because he needed it, I sat on our chair and turned my rascal over my knee. I gave him the spanking of his young life.

  I stood him on his feet again. His chin trembled, but he refused to cry. The problem is, my lad and I are too much alike.

  “There’s more important things than wealth,” I said, trying to make him listen. “There’s our family name. Us above all, George, we don’t take to thieving.” I had thought to wait until he was old enough to understand to tell him about Rebakah Cooper, but I believe the Goddess’s voice in me was saying it was time. He needed to hear this. I took down the shrine from the wardrobe top, where I kept it safe from small boys. I opened the front to show him the tiny figures of the ancestors.

  “See how many of your great-grandfathers wore the uniform of the Provost’s Guard? What would our famous ancestress say if she knew one of her descendants was a common thief?”

  “We’ve got a famous ancestress?” George asked, rubbing his behind.

  I picked up Rebakah’s small, worn statue. I took it out often when I was a girl, because she was a woman, of all the ancestors who wore the black tunic and breeches of the Guard. There was the cat at her feet, the purple dots of paint that were its eyes worn away just as the pale blue paint for her eyes was worn away. The shrine was old, given to me by my great-aunt when I was dedicated to Temple Service.

  I showed him the figure. “Rebakah Cooper,” I said. “Your six-times-great-grandmother. Famed in her day for her service as a Provost’s Guard. She was fierce and law-abiding and loyal, my son. All that I want for you. And she was doom on lawbreakers, particularly thieves. Steal, and you shame her.” br />
  “Yes, Ma,” George said quietly.

  “Remember her,” I told him, giving his shoulder a little shake. “Respecther. Respect me.”

  He put his arms around my waist. “I love you, Mother,” he said. Now he talked perfectly, as he’d been taught. He helped me to clean up from the medicine making and to make supper.

  It is only in writing about this day that I realize he never said anything about thieving.

  No, he will obey me. He is a good boy. And I will make an offering to my Goddess to guide him on Rebakah Cooper’s path.

  FROM THE JOURNAL OF MISTRESS ILONY COOPER, MOTHER OF REBAKAH COOPER, RESIDENT OF PROVOST’S HOUSE, PALACE WAY AND GOLDEN WAY, CORUS, THE REALM OF TORTALL

  My hart is the betur for this day. When my Beka told me the pijins talked to her I feerd she was mad. I feerd my lady wood lok her up as my lady dos not lyk Beka. Beka mayks my lord lyk being a komun Dog to much.

  I thot to take Beka to my husbands mother. Granny Fern wood no if ther was madnes in his blud. So I tuk Beka ther today and left the littel ones with Mya.

  Beka had bred in her pokets and fed pijins all the way to Klover Lane. She says the birds say wher they was killd. I feerd somwon ov Provosts Hows wood see the bred and say she stole it.

  Wen I told Granny Fern why we come Granny laffd.

  She is no mor mad than me, she says. Beka has the magikal Gift. Tho som say its not the Gift exakly. Its not biddebel. You hav it or you dont. Bekas father had it and his sister and unkl befor him.

  I sayd a prayr to the Godess. My girl is not mad. Gifted is not good but its beter than mad.

  Granny Fern mayd Beka churn her buttr. Beka thumpd the churn so hard! Granny Fern told her, You can tickl the magik a bit. You need to, girl. Elswys the ghosts that ryd the birds will dryv you mad with tawk you onli heer part way. Pijins cary the dead. Them as died suden, them as had biznis to do.