Mr Ripley's Enchanted Books - Niel Bushnell - Timesmith (The Timesmith Chronicles) - Andersen

We have moved on from Sorrowline, which is the first book in the exciting series of The Timesmith Chronicles, to the second book called Timesmith by Niel. Jack is now thirteen years old and his adventures have only just begun. He has the ability to travel into the past through Sorrowlines which are the channels that connect every gravestone with the date of the person's death.  Jack needs to travel back again to 1940s London to find his friends and to prevent the evil Rouland from rising from the dead, as the Paladin search for the fabled lost sword, known as Durendal, so it can be used to resurrect the Paladin Master. 

This story takes you on a bone crushing adventure; a race for time with a quest to get to the sword first. It is a fight to save the world, as well as Jack's family, as he is hunted by the undead knights of The Paladin. We are whisked through the plot by the characters as they travel to and from different fantasy worlds. The story is very well written - it has just the right amount of detail without going over the top and letting the imagination run wild. More importantly, it never talks down to or patronises the reader.

I love the carefree flow of the storyline. In my opinion, this is an easy to read, and easy to follow, book which would be a great read for both young and reluctant readers.  Reading this book, it is easy to recognise how the author has really enjoyed writing about and introducing the colourful characters and the time travelling theme. The characters can just about do anything so you never know what's going to happen as the adventure unfolds. There are some amazing cinematic battles, some spilt blood, a sprinkling of death and a sting in the tale. However I'm not going to say anymore about this as I want to keep my review spoiler free.

I  thoroughly enjoyed reading this book. I think that the author has really added to and developed the story from where the first book left off. Although, I would have perhaps loved to have seen more of the 1940s London being infused into the super plot line. Nevertheless, I loved the mysterious side of the Grimnire, always standing in the shadows and casting a dark atmosphere to the story - it felt very Pratchett-esq. I look forward to reading more about them in the next book.

The ending of this book was much better than the first story; it delivered a cracking finale for the next installment. This series is growing from strength to strength  and one that I would definitely recommend anyone and everyone to read who loves a good magical fantasy story.

The man buried in the cold earth screamed a motionless
He had long since given up trying to move; his body
was rotten and useless. Every message his angry brain
threw out went ignored by his wasted, pathetic frame.
Yet he felt everything.
Worms moved through him, wriggling, feeding,
persistently tearing at his human remains. Moisture
formed about his darkened flesh, seeping in with needles
of ice-cold indifference that cracked his calcified bones.
And the sword; even after all this time he felt the mocking
metal of the sword impaling his inert heart. In the
age since his demise the pain had not diminished.
Unimaginable, never-ending pain.
Nothing worked any more. Only his soul, his very
essence, prevailed somewhere deep within. He felt the
passing of time like the slow, maddening drip, drip, drip of
a frozen waterfall. Seconds laughed at him for decades.
Decades scorned him for an eternity. He was buried in time.

And yet Rouland endured it all.
One burning thought kept him going. It was a thought
about a boy, a boy who had beaten him. Rouland was
immortal, unstoppable. He had never been beaten before.
The boy’s face came into his mind and a new wave of
hatred consumed him.
Jack Morrow.
He had bested Rouland. He had plunged a sword
through the centre of his heart and suspended his eternal
existence. He had buried him in this patch of earth and
left him to rot, to die like a mortal man.
But Rouland was not mortal, and his rage sustained
him through the lonely, dark years. He waited, and plotted
and schemed. He knew his day would come. His followers
would find him and restore him and he would have his
revenge on Jack Morrow.
Rouland pictured his victory, and he forgot about the
pain. He was satisfied. Then as the notion subsided
the hurt returned, stronger than ever. Inside the prison
of his mind, hate condensed into pools of agony and
Rouland’s soul screamed . . .
Captain Alda de Vienne screamed.