I was ten years old when my parents were killed by pirates.
Well, you had me at pirates, but lost me with the rest of the book.
Newly orphaned Bronte, who has been living with her aunt since infancy, has been sent on an adventure at the behest of her newly deceased parents' will: she is to visit her other ten aunts, spend varying amounts of time with them, and give them each a pre-selected gift before she takes her leave. The instructions are oddly specific, right down to what foods Bronte is to eat, and where she is to eat them.
I enjoyed much about this book, particularly Bronte's visits with her aunts, and the fact that they were not all pleasant and perky individuals. BUT, there was just TOO MUCH "magic" crammed into these pages. There are elves and faeries, water sprites, dragons, spellbinders, mages, and whisperers. The whole enterprise was like a suitcase already stuffed to the gills, but the author insisted on shoving in just one more magical being.
I realize that complaining about too much fantasy makes me sound like a cranky old witch ("Stop making those fairy circles on my lawn, dammit!"), but so be it. I expect young Bronte will be going on many more adventures, but I shan't be joining her.