“Above the dark streets of the city in the hour before dawn, a single figure stands waiting by an open window. Her fingers drum the window ledge, but the city is indifferent to her impatience. She waits unseen and unknown.
A whisper of air brushes her face as bubbles of almost-sound tickle her skin. She smiles and holds out her hands…”
When Idrith escapes from Amyth monastery with Daen, he thinks their troubles are over, but the past will not leave them alone. There are secrets still to be uncovered in the lost city of Aerdas, and this time it will take a young Southerner to set things in motion. And it all begins with a song.
Sometimes the truth is a miracle.
From the Southern village of Herth to the oppressive North, where the despotic Zah-Riel rules through fear, the world of Sindorus is about to undergo an extreme transformation. A long journey lies ahead, for all the Septar seven. It will take them to dark places, more dangerous than they ever imagined.
If only they remember to trust the Light.
“Wisdoms of the Light” is the long awaited sequel to “First Light”, the story of Idrith, Aztar and Daen.
Follow the colours of your soul.
e x c e r p t
Without waiting for a response, Idrith slid the book across the table to Kemir.
As her hand touched the cover, there was a crackling sound and sparks of bright yellow arced above the book. She yelped and pulled back sharply. The yellow sparks became crackling yellow strands, like tiny lightning bolts, spanning the gap between her hand and the book’s cover. No matter how far she moved her hand away, the sparkling yellow threads firmly connected her hand to the book.
For once, Harmion looked surprised. He went over to Kemir’s chair. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
Kemir wasn’t impressed. “How do I make this stop?”
Harmion put his hand on her shoulder. “Remember, this is your power. You are in control.”
“Really? I don’t think so!”
“I know so.” Harmion’s voice was soft but firm. “Put your hands on the table and relax. Let’s see what happens next.”
Kemir shuddered, but she placed her hands as Harmion suggested on either side of the book. The light slowly began to fade until there was only a faint glow of yellow around her fingertips. She relaxed back with a deep sigh of relief.
Harmion leant across to pick up the book. “Why does this book want to tell us of the future, rather than the past?” he murmured, running his hands over the cover.
“No,” said Kemir, glancing at Harmion’s thoughtful expression. “Forget it! I’m not turning into lightning rod woman again, because you’re curious about an old book that you originally called irrelevant.”
Harmion waited calmly as she ranted. Eventually she ran out of steam. He held out the book to her. “Try again.” Her green eyes narrowed, but he simply smiled and waited. Harmion always won, when it came to patient persistence.
With a theatrical sigh, Kemir held her hands out. “Fine. Give me the blasted book.” This time there were no sparks as her fingers touched it. She placed the book back on the table and looked at Harmion. “What should I do now?”
“Trust your instincts. What do you want to do now?”
“Run?” she joked. She flexed her fingers, bracelets clinking, and placed both hands palm down on the book. This time the yellow glow of Solaber appeared about her entire body. It was a soft haze at first, as if she was standing in a doorway with the sun behind her, but then it deepened in colour. A rippling yellow-gold light enveloped her. They all watched as the golden light flowed from Kemir to spill out over the book and onto the table.
It was a pool of melted butter, a glowing golden mirror. What would it reflect? Aztar leant forward to look into it, but there was nothing visible in the yellow brightness.
“Kemir,” Harmion’s voice broke their silence, “do you see anything?”
“Nothing so far.”
“Wow.” Tarko pointed at the pool. “Look.”
The yellow light was rising up in the centre of the pool. Idrith instinctively flinched back from the table as it continued to rise, twisting and rippling as it grew. It looked like a glowing pillar, then a fountain of sunshine. It almost looked like something was moving within the yellow light…
Daen could feel her heart pounding as she watched the yellow light take the shape of person, then more distinctly a woman, standing in the centre of their table. It was impossible to see clear details since she was moulded completely of liquid gold, but enough was visible to be certain that it was a woman and, judging by the long full skirt of her dress, a Northerner. Southerner women wore light, loose dresses or trousers, not heavy formal dresses like this one. The glowing woman of liquid light held her hands out in a gesture of begging or beseeching.
“Dear gods,” whispered Tarko.
Daen knew exactly how he felt. The woman seemed to be talking, or at least her mouth seemed to be moving, but there was no sound. A voice began to speak loudly, but not from the figure. The voice was coming from Kemir. With eyes closed and head bowed, Kemir spoke in this unknown voice, hoarse and broken as if the woman was weeping.
“Save the child. I’m begging you. Please, save my child!”