Sure, Renny had read it. Obviously it was some kind of joke. And this guy with the flakes of pie crust in his beard, he is obviously some kind of whacko.
But no. Parnell Florian is no whacko – and Maysa, the ancient silk-brocade carpet now rolled up under her bed, is no joke. It really can fly, and Renny’s life just got a whole lot more interesting. And when she meets the other members of the Order – her flock – life gets more interesting still. Most interesting of all is the boy called Stonechat, who seems to find her pretty interesting as well.
But when a vengeful rug-rider called Mistral kidnaps Parnell and steals the all-important Orb of Descrying, Renny and the ragtag flock of misfits must ride to the rescue – or else face an adversary who can control their very dreams. One by one, all the people Renny has come to care about fall into Mistral’s hands, and she must find courage and ingenuity she never knew she had.
A modern-day fantasy that Publisher’s Weekly called: “A great combination of fantasy, adventure, and romance…an engaging and enjoyable read,” The Flight of the Wren is, at its core, a story of family. Estranged from her mentally-ill mother, bounced from one foster home to another, Renny feels no connection to anyone in her life. In her darkest moments she fears that she will never really care about anyone…only to find out that having someone you really care about can be the scariest thing of all. And that sometimes the hardest part about flying is just learning to hang on.
Available at Amazon.com in e-book and paperback.
Postscript (Special Bonus Material!)
A while back I did an interview over at the Book Country blog with Nevena Georgieva about this (and other) books. I think this little excerpt sums things up nicely:
Nevena: What’s your “pet” project at the moment?
Atthys: I guess the book I’m most passionate and hopeful about at the moment is The Flight of the Wren. It’s the story of a seventeen-year-old girl who is given a flying carpet. Yeah. That’s the nutshell version. My formal pitch is a lot more exciting than that, but ultimately I think I lose a lot of readers with the words ‘flying carpet.’ Probably they are expecting something like a Magic Treehouse adventure and a lot of mucking around with Aladdin and his monkey.
Of course, it’s nothing like that. The protagonist is painfully ordinary—disaffected, disconnected, utterly disinterested in school, family, even friends. She is, in short, a typical teenage mess. She has no special powers, no special insights, not even a belief in herself. Because I am a benevolent (if inscrutable) god, I toss her a lifeline: a gift. An impossible gift—a magic carpet. But there are strings attached. With it comes both a community (other members of her flock) and a purpose, a mission.
Love, of course, also waits in the wind. Love is what drives everything that happens in the second half of the book. A flying carpet, once you get past the absurdity, really is a heck of a gift. It represents two extremely valuable things for a young person: freedom and independence. For Renny, it also comes to represent two things she thought she didn’t want but which turn out to be a lot more important than flying: connection and responsibility. In other words, people she cares about.