Lark

Anaru had the last watch in the main top.

In the flickering light of the binnacle, she saw Lark lock the wheel in place and go inside the captain's cabin.

He emerged with Silas a few moments later.

Silas made a quick turn around the deck through puddles of deep shadow amid the steady rain.

"We need to reef up the sails a bit.

We need you to help." By the time they finished, she was completely drenched in spite of her raincoat.

Silas went back to bed, and Lark and Anaru returned to their shivering posts.

She was glad to ring the morning bell when the last of the sand ran out of the watch glass.

...

in B&B with your Sloane and your Lark friendship

... together.

Oh, yeah.

Love it

... mentioned Hot Fuzz, I was like, "Yeah, it's Hot Fuzz.

What am I talking about?" Whereas I did get a lot of Hot Fuzz from Leather and Lark.

Mm-hmm.

The fortress had been his post for 280 years, after all, and some part of him, he admitted, needed to see what had been hidden beneath his own feet the entire time without his ever knowing.

We worked through that whole winter, Corvith's scholarship and Meren's practical instincts and Lark's own three centuries deep understanding of Founder's Era wardcraft combining into something none of us could have managed alone, layer after careful layer, each one revealing not simply another lock, but another piece of the Founder's children's own guilty logic, written into the very structure of their hiding.

"They kept adding to it," Lark observed midway through the season, studying the chamber's steadily revealed architecture.

"Look at the wards, Ren.

This wasn't built once and sealed.

Okay.

Lark laments their failures and, as a way of distracting themselves from the unchangeable, finds a spot removed from the light of the sun.

They attempt to balance their feelings while also practicing balancing atop a stick, eyes shut, pitch black, only concentration.

A slight huffing of small lungs and scuffing of sand around them breaks the silence of their meditation.

They peek to see that they are surrounded by a group of children attempting to emulate them.

They remember the words of Montoir, that all are welcome in the light of the sun, and so they ask the children if they would, if they would like help.

One child, Buckle and his bucket, asks Lark how they do it, and Lark explains how to effectively clear one's thoughts.

Bubbles.

"We need more, something concrete.

We need to see Mr. Lark." Clara closed the book with a soft snap.

"Let's go." Gossamer Fables was nestled like a secret at the corner of Main and Wren.

Its windows fogged slightly from the contrast of the warm interior and the cool morning breeze.

Sunlight slanted in through the windows, catching the motes of dust dancing between tall wooden shelves.

To Clara, this place was sanctuary.

She had been working part-time under Mr. Lark since college, and in many ways, the bookshop had become a place of intellectual refuge.

Mr. Lark had encouraged her curiosity, pushing her toward mysteries, both fictional and real.

So let's go around the crew, see what everyone's up to.

Lark, why don't you lead us off? I don't care.

Wow.

Try,

And so, yeah, I've been having a good time

of it.

We're here for you tonight, Lark, so we'll help.

Yes, we are.

Lovely.

Anything Lark or Adelaide wants to do during this rest?

Yeah, I am deeply superstitious.

So I'm setting up my sleeping bag so that my head is facing east and I'm brushing away like all of the dirt and I'm like sprinkling some salt around the bed and stuff.

Yeah, you are able to get a stone's throw away.

Okay.

Larkin Adelaide?

I will draw my sword and try to see if it has any effect on this goo.

Word came from the northwest forts on the upper Columbia of war with England.

Mr. Astor's third ship, the Lark, was wrecked.

Astoria was now altogether in the hands of men who had been Nor'westers.

And what was the alert Northwest Company doing? End of section 2.

The Raccoon left on the last day of 1813.

MacDougall had been appointed partner in the Northwest Company, and the other Canadians re-engaged under their own flag.

When Hunt at last arrived in the Peddler, which he had chartered after the wreck of Mr. Astor's third vessel, the Lark, it was too late to do more than carry away those Americans still loyal to Mr. Astor.

Farnham was left at Kamchatka, whence he made his way to Europe.