Nightbirds on Nantucket (The Wolves Chronicles, Book 3) by Joan Aiken
By Joan Aiken
Having had sufficient of existence on board the send that kept her from a watery grave, Dido Twite desires not anything greater than to sail domestic to England. in its place, Captain Casket's send lands in Nantucket, the place Dido and the captain's daughter, Dutiful Penitence, are left within the care of Dutiful's sinister Aunt Tribulation. In Tribulation's farmhouse, existence is insufferable. whilst mysterious males lurk approximately within the night fog, the creative Dido rallies opposed to their shenanigans with aid from Dutiful, a cabinboy named Nate, and a red whale.
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Additional resources for Nightbirds on Nantucket (The Wolves Chronicles, Book 3)
Below them the surf raged as tidal patterns crossed and tangled, Casca and Domina and Prima battling for dominance of the sea, while Sun and Core together ruled the sky. They slept as the dead sleep, oblivious to such liquid disputes, resting on mounds of newly killed animals, that of the caves' former occupants. Whose flesh did not interest them as such, though they licked at the dried blood once or twice upon awakening, as if to cleanse their palates. What little food such animals could supply had been drained from them quickly the night before, in battle, and flesh without purpose offered these creatures little sustenance.
Barely. " He clapped his hands twice. Barely a few seconds later the door swung open, and a young girl in servant's livery entered. "This is Kami. She'll get you settled in. Kami, take Reverend Vryce to the rooms that have been prepared for him. See that he has a schedule of our services, and anything he needs for tonight. Breakfast is in the Annex, at eight," he informed Damien. " His mouth twitched slightly; a smile? " The Patriarch nodded to Kami, a clear gesture of dismissal. Damien gathered up his pack and turned to follow her— but when they reached the door the Patriarch called his name softly, and he turned back.
What? " He chuckled. " "The Patriarch is immune to charm. And most other human pleasantries, I suspect. As for us… suffice it to say that battle lines have been drawn, and we both are poised behind our armaments. He with his moral obsessions, and I with my fixation on rights to an independent private life. " He shrugged. "Open conflict is infinitely more attractive to me than fencing with hints and insinuations. " 48 Black Sun Rising "Can I ask how that's going? " He grimaced, and shifted his packages again.