By J. A. White, Andrea Offermann
The Thickety: A direction starts off is a spellbinding story a couple of woman, the Thickety, and the facility of magic. fanatics of Neil Gaiman will love this exciting new world.
When Kara Westfall was once 5 years outdated, her mom was once convicted of the worst of all crimes: witchcraft. Years later, Kara and her little brother, Taff, are nonetheless kept away from through the folk in their village, who think that not anything is extra evil than magic...except, maybe, the mysterious woodland that covers approximately the whole island. It has many names, this position. occasionally it's referred to as the darkish wooden, or Sordyr's Realm. yet more often than not it's referred to as the Thickety.
The villagers stay in worry of the Thickety and the bad creatures that stay there. but if an strange chicken lures Kara into the forbidden wooded area, she discovers a wierd publication with unspeakable powers. A e-book that may have belonged to her mother.
And that's only the start of the story.
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Extra info for A Path Begins
And the priests don’t like me much. If I told everyone, and someone died, I think things would be very tricky for me. But someone should know, and you are a boy who asks questions. Don’t use it until I’m dead, all right? ’ And there on the rocks, as the sunset made a path of red across the sea, Mau learned the shark word. ’ he said, without thinking. ‘Not so loud,’ snapped Nawi, glancing back at the shore. ‘Of course it’s a trick. Building a canoe is a trick. Throwing a spear is a trick. Life is a trick, and you get one chance to learn it.
A few stumps marked the place where the long house had stood since . . for ever. The wave had torn up the reef. A wave like that would not have even noticed the village. He’d learned to look at coasts when he’d been voyaging with his father and his uncles. And now, looking up, he could see the story of the wave, written in tumbled rocks and broken trees. The village faced south. It had to. The other three sides were protected by sheer, crumbling cliffs, in which sea caves boomed and foamed. The wave had come from the south of east.
He stared at it and realized what he was seeing. It looked as if it was standing still because it was a big wave a long way off, and it was moving very fast, dragging black night behind it. Very fast, and not so far away now. Not a wave, either. It was too big. It was a mountain of water, with lightning dancing along the top, and it was rushing, and it was roaring, and it scooped up the canoe like a fly. Soaring up into the towering, foaming curve of the wave, Mau thrust the paddle under the vines that held the outrigger and held on as— – It rained.