She hurried to the porthole and looked out. The sky was filmed with cloud through which the sun glowed sullenly, casting an eerie yellow light. The sea was dull and oily-looking. At first she could see nothing unusual. And then she began to pick out dark shapes beneath the surface of the water, many, many dark shapes, and as she realised what they were, the hair on the back of her neck began to prickle.
‘Turtles!’ she whispered.
Although the Star of Deltorahas managed to escape Illica, Britta is still in danger. She must stay in her cabin, safe from the moody distrust coming her way from the ship’s crew, who think she is a witch and the reason the voyage has been beset with problems. In spite of Britta’s protestations, the ship is being surrounded by turtles, seeming to want to steer the ship. Britta soon realises that the Staff of Tier has sensed her, and wants her to come to the Hungry Isle. Could it be that her secrecy has lead her and her friends, including Trader Mab, into terrible danger?
The fourth title in the Star of Deltora series, The Hungry Isle provides a gripping climax to the journey that Britta and her fellow would-be Trader’s apprentices have been on. Britta has managed to keep her true identity – as the daughter of the hated Dare Larsett – a secret, but when everything hangs in the balance, the secret is no longer hers to keep.
Best read after the first three titles, The Hungry Isle is a satisfying conlusion to the series.
The Hungry Isle, by Emily Rodda
Scholastic, 2016
ISBN 9781742991337


“Mother,” she hissed, but her mother didn’t hear. The shadowy figure set out across the terrace and down to the lawn below, heading across the grounds.
War cries echoed behind us. The goblin army!
Ages and ages ago – about two weeks since next Thursday – a giant green dragon stole my baby brother, Godfrey.
It starts with my family, and in a way, that’s the whole story.
‘One – two – three – heave!’ cried the admiral, and the table was slid back in place. He gazed down on its polished surface happily, observed there wasn’t a single irreperable scratch, and then his smile faded like a powder disolving in a glass. A red flush spread up his neck and across his face, and he swayed on his feet as he treid to speak.
And at that moment, Britta threw caution to the winds. She tore her eyes from the model ship and looked up at the old man staring at her so anxiously.
into the actual snow and melted the hard-packed powder beneath. The lighter sparks were swept away on the wind, marking the prsitine snow with hundreds of tiny burns.
Vivienne knew of beasts that were large, and beasts that were vicious, but she knew of no creature that was both large and vicious enough to inflict such terrible wounds on a Winged Dog. Even if two Winged Dogs were to clash, which was unheard of, their claws were not sharp enough to make the awful gashes this dog had suffered.