A Sliver of Stardust
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From Marissa Burt, author of Storybound, comes a richly imagined middle grade fantasy loosely inspired by the rhymes of Mother Goose. Full of magic and mystery, A Sliver of Stardust is the perfect adventure for fans of A Wrinkle in Time or The Emerald Atlas.
Wren Matthews thought she’d outgrown nursery rhymes a long time ago. But that was before she knew that songs of twinkling little stars and four-and-twenty blackbirds were the key to an ancient, hidden magic.
Wren’s discovery catapults her into a world of buried secrets, strange dreams, and a mountain fortress under an aurora-filled sky. But just as she starts to master her unique abilities, her new world begins to crumble around her . . . and only she can save it.
“All right, bird,” Wren said, eyeing the thing. It looked lean and hard, like what it was: a predator. She wondered if falcons were like horses and could sense a person’s fear. “I’m not afraid of you,” she lied, just in case. Wren knew the bird couldn’t perceive what she was thinking, but she felt certain it was watching her disapprovingly, ready to screech again at her first move. “Go on then, Wren. Call your bird like Simon has done.” Mary gestured at Wren’s falcon as though she couldn’t see
it. “These particular falcons travel the auroras all over the world.” “The auroras?” Wren thought of the breathtaking greens and blues of the aurora borealis. No matter how much she read about it, she was still captivated by the aurora borealis, by the way stargazers had to hunt for the display of colors and yet, once found, it was painted across the sky for everyone to see. “Falcons can fly through an aurora?” “Falcons can do many amazing things. They are a Fiddler’s secret weapon,” Mary said.
and put one arm around Wren’s mom’s shoulders. “That’s an interesting idea,” Simon’s dad said. “They could give each other moral support.” “Sure,” Wren’s mom said. “Simon and Wren could really maximize their potential together.” Wren poked a fork at the remainder of her burrito. I’d rather go running. Her parents usually weren’t this focused on what she was doing. They were busy with work, and Wren was busy with whatever she was studying, and once in a while they played a board game together.
or so,” Baxter said as he puffed the billows to fan the flames of the fire. He laughed at their astonished faces. “Off the meteorite. What better place to gather it than from a fallen shooting star? Come now, there’s lots to learn, and no time like the present.” He stooped to pull some tools out of a low cupboard. “Simply chip it off with this.” Baxter gave each of them a small pickax and what appeared to be a paintbrush. “I can’t go with you, because the porridge is getting to the tricky part.
it skyward. Wren’s fingers found a handhold, and she clung tight, her feet trailing along the ground, and then they were up, flying out and past the mountaintop, over the Archway to Heaven, and into the vast stretch of sky beyond. Wren swung her body, working the momentum so that her other hand could reach up, battling the numbing effect of the cold air. They were accelerating, and every second threatened to drop her into the gleaming water below. Wren heard Jack’s voice, echoing the same chant