YA Fantasy - 50k - First three chaps at first.

[Michael]

Hey Guys! I've completed a 50k YA Fantasy novel called "The Boy with the Silver Tongue" and I'd really like to get some feedback. We'll start with the first three chapters, but below is an excerpt from the book.


Ahead of us was the only sign of human activity on the island, a place called “Villa de Corvo.” As we made our way through the streets I was alarmed at how few people lived on this island, it was like being in a small town where everybody knew each other. It was very clear we didn’t belong. We were the only white people around and as soon as people saw us they would avert their eyes and rush off in the opposite direction. After a while of roaming the streets an official looking man in a dark colored uniform approached us.
“O que você quer?” he asked
“English?” I said
“Sorry” he said in a thick accent “What is your business”
“We need information about an island to the north of here” I said “maybe a nautical map?”
“North of here?” he said. His gaze darted to each of our faces before saying “Yes of course, please following me.”
We followed him through the streets of the little town until at the end of one of the roads stood a huge three story house. The building looked like it once commanded this island and stuck out against the background of mediocrity.
The man stopped in front of us and turned around once he reached the door.
“You must see the parlor” he said through his accent.
A servant led us through the front doors and into a wooden lobby. Everything was very clean and antique. The official moved through the house like I imagined he had thousands of times before, not bothering to look around, but instead, appreciating its beauty as a whole.
In front of us was a remarkable winding stair-case that looked like it must’ve been the newest addition to the home. It had wooden platforms and a single polished steel banister which led up and out of sight.
“We have plenty of guest-rooms, you all must be tired” he said.
“Not really, we just need to know about the island north of here”
“A bite to eat then” he said, gesturing towards a room.
“No really, it’s fine. We just need to know about the island” Neil said.
The man frowned and gestured me up towards the stairs. As my friends started following he turned around and said “One at a time.”
We turned to each other, feeling cautious.
“You go, Tim” Neil said “If anything happens I can be there in a flash”
I nodded and followed the man up the staircase. As I climbed the stairs I noticed everything had become silent as we ascended. The only noise I could hear was the sound of stairs creaking under my weight.
When we finished the ascent I said “Stop”
The man stopped moving so suddenly that his momentum almost caused him to fall over.
“Why didn’t the wood creak when you walked up the stairs?”
“I’ve walked these steps many times, and I know how to walk them without the creaking. Are you afraid?”
“No I’m just being cautious” I said, partially lying.
The upstairs of the building had more evidence of use which was relieving and scary at the same time. As we walked down the hall I took note of the cobwebs that hung in the corners. The webs gave me more confidence, they meant spiders were here and I loved spiders.
We stopped at a door and he opened it, showing a dark room beyond.
“You’re going to like my parlor, I hope” he said.
“I don’t care about the parlor! I just want the map for my friends so we can get out of here and on our way.”
The man looked sad after I said that and I felt guilty about it. I realized that Corvo didn’t get visitors often and this was one of the wealthier men on the island. He’d probably spent his money on all manner of things odd and unique and was just excited to have somebody to show them to.
“I am sorry.” he muttered “We don’t get visitors here often and you all seemed like such kind and curious children, I thought I could show you some of my collections.”
“No, no, I’m sorry. Of course, I’d love to see the parlor” I said.
The man threw open the door and thrust me inside, following me in and closing the door behind him. The room was pitch-black and because of his silent movements I couldn’t tell where he was after the door was closed.
I was sure he was looking for a light switch.
I stood there for a while and nothing was happening, I was standing in the dark silence trying desperately to hear where he could’ve been.
“I need to ask you to leave.” He said quietly through the darkness.
“Why?” I asked, “I told you I’d see the parlor.”
“Because there’s something else in here, I don’t want you to have to see it.”
I was confused and even more afraid than I had been just moments prior.
“Just turn on the light, I’ll be fine” I said, hearing the words echo in my head.
A click brought a small desk lamp to life which shed dull light through the room.
The man was right; a dead woman was propped up in his desk chair. She was cut open at the neck and the front of her clothing was covered with dried blood.
The man started screaming when he saw the body and he backed away from it towards me.
“Who is it?” I asked
“My daughter” he said in a scream.
As the man continued backing towards me I took a step backward to give him some more room. When my body moved back very I could feel something like metal wires against my skin.
In the midst of all the shock I couldn’t react quickly enough.
The man’s high-pitched screaming subsided into sinister laughing and before I could give him a command he thrust his hand over my mouth.
As he pushed me back further the wires dug into my skin and a dull electric pulse made it very difficult to do anything but let my body become paralyzed. After a moment I found my tongue and jaws were no longer working either.
The man let his weight off of me and my body stayed propped against the wires. He was still laughing as he backed away from me. I looked at him like I’d imagined a spider would look at a fly.
“I was the one who killed her.” He said without the accent he had just moments ago. “It’s just a shame I couldn’t eat her before you all got here.”
I saw the various papers and letters on the desk were signed “Patrick Ride”.
As I watched he retrieved a pistol from one of his desk drawers and walked towards me. It was a pearl-handled revolver; I couldn’t help but notice that it was beautiful.
“You’re the second person I’ll kill today without getting to eat” he whispered in my ear “maybe just a taste before you go to sleep.”
He sunk his teeth into my shoulder. I didn’t feel anything, but I could hear the sound of his jaw tearing through my flesh. When his face came back into view he had fresh blood around his mouth and I could hear it dripping onto the floor.
Ride put the pistol to my forehead and my eyes focused on the opposite corner of the room where a fly was struggling to break out of a spider’s web.