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Wind Over Troubled Waters
Higher Ground Series: Book One
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ISBN-10: 1-55404-959-8
Genre: Science Fiction/Fantasy/SF
eBook Length: 277 Pages
Published: April 2012

From inside the flap

Corn World. Britland. After the great flood, only memories, debris and derelict buildings speak of a past civilization. Visions of these disturbing times haunt Cerridwen's dreams. When her dying mother sends Cerridwen to find a mural in Saint Eyes and lead Britland into a better future, the young healer has little choice but to set out on a life-changing quest. Her ability to perceive auras convinces her to accept nature-attuned Trevly's offer of protection.

Bent on adventure and enthralled by the promise of treasure, beautiful Sasha, cunning Aron and uncut Boris join forces to get the most out of life. Their selfish plans collide with Cerridwen's when they learn about a powerful ring and a mural pointing the way to its location.

Reviews and Awards

After a landslide beginning, ĎWind Over Troubled Watersí sweeps us along in a perfect mix of misadventure and challenge on Cerridwen and Sashaís parallel quests.

Rosalie Skinner, author of The Chronicles of Caleath
"This dark, edgy novel forces us to confront human nature in the raw...with eyes wide open."

Wendy Laharnar, author of The Unhewn Stone
Wind Over Troubled Waters is a charming adventure across postdiluvian Britland, where humankind has been reduced to brutal, tribal living. Might makes right unless Cerridwen and her friends can bring about a fairer future. The excitement of their challenges is matched by the beauty of the authorsí elegant, lyrical prose. -- Lynne M. Hinkey, author of Marina Melee

Wind Over Troubled Waters (Excerpt)

Journal of Tallulah McBride

March 23, 2027

As the world ends, Iíve assembled my vellum and proper ink and pen. Vellum lasts longer than paper. I donít think anyone will survive the flood and devastation. The water is rising higher all the time and I havenít seen the sun for forty-eight hours. No light penetrates my room. Iím writing by candlelight. Iím not sure why Iím writing, except that it might help me get a grip on what happened. And just maybe, someone will survive and read this journal.

Corn World. Britland.

Far in the future after the great flood.

Chapter One

On the bed next to her mother, Cerridwen snuggled further into her sleeping furs. Wind roared over the town. Rain lashed against the thick wooden walls of the house nestled halfway down a steep slope above the quiet village. Built in the before-times, when men knew how to construct things properly, the house resisted continual rain. A lightning flash lit up the small room. Thunder roared. In the cot beside her, Mother whimpered and turned in her sleep.

Cerridwen concentrated on creaking noises followed by a thud. A tree struck by lightning? Aware of possible danger, she bolted upright. Her brother Ivan had left before sunrise with a group of Red Roof men to hunt deer in the first light. She hoped for their safe return.

A mighty growl jarred her out of her drowsiness. What could it be? Not thunder. The sound lasted too long and grew into a rumble.

She sprung up, heart thumping, and shook her mother awake. "Quick, we need to leave the house."

"I had a dream." Mother raised herself on one elbow.

"Take your fur." Cerridwen slid her feet into shoes and grabbed her bag.

Motherís eyes widened. "Whatís that noise?" She swung her feet onto the floor.

"Donít know," Cerridwen yelled over the roaring, slipping sound. "Weíve got to leave." Underneath her feet, the floor moved.

"Itís no use," Mother sighed but rose and clutched her fur around her shoulders. "Where can we go?"

"The house is moving," Cerridwen yelled. "Come outside." She supported Motherís frail body while they staggered to the door. Screaming and wailing in protest, mud and water carried debris down the hill. No time to dwell on fear. Cerridwen forced them outside into the eerie backdrop.

Clouds obscured the moon. Rain drove into their faces. She headed for the familiar large overhanging rocks in the distance. At one with the earth, the outcrop would offer safety. But could she and Mother reach it in time? Mud ran over Cerridwenís feet. "The hillís sliding toward us." Pushing against the driving rain, they struggled on. She dragged Mother with each step. A flash of lightning lit the rocky part of the hill.

"Look. Over there." Nearly to their goal, maybe three menís length away.

The slipping mud knocked Mother off her feet. Cerridwen clutched her fur, but Mother slid away from her grip. In panic, Cerridwen bent, grasped her arm, and pulled her from the sucking mud. After a few staggering strides, a gust of wind almost pushed her over. A thick branch hurtled toward them and struck Mother. "No!" Cerridwen screamed. Slipping and sliding, she used strength sheíd never needed to call on before. With a mighty effort, she pulled Mother up and hauled her over the last few steps to the shelter of large boulders.

In a space just big enough for both of them under an overhanging rock, she bundled Mother in her furs again and lay beside her. "Are you hurting?"

"Donít worry," Mother whispered. "Not much longer now."

Her weak voice chilled Cerridwen more than the wet garment sticking to her body. She wished she could collect her medicine. She peered over the boulder blocking her view. Maybe she could make it back to... No, the collapsed house lay halfway down the slope.

They huddled together until the roar of the storm calmed to driving rain. Faint dawn light showed the devastation of their dwelling. The collapsed roof and sections of wall littered the mud further down and their possessions scattered the slope.

Cerridwen bent over her motherís sleeping shape and studied her face. Her cheerful yellow aura paled with each passing moment. Cerridwen had never seen Mother in such a weak state, so close to death. Would she hold on to life until Ivan came back from hunting? How Cerridwen wished her older brother could be here. The veined hand in hers felt too cold.

The crinkled eyelids moved and Motherís eyes fluttered open. She moaned, looked around, and back to Cerridwen. "The dream," she whispered. She gripped Cerridwenís hand, raised it, and blinked her eyes. "No ring!"

Cerridwen leaned closer. "What did you say?"

A weak smile hovered around her motherís mouth, but her arm dropped back to the ground. "I saw you painted on a wall, Cerridwen. A picture-mural. A pretty dress... blue. A ring on your finger that lit up the world. You looked like the goddess I named you after."

"What do you mean?" She gripped the frail hand as if to stop her mother slipping away and forced words through lips rigid with grief. "Donít tire yourself." She longed to hear more. What did Mother see?

The glassy eyes sparkled. "Go to Hailing, daughter." Her expression became tender. "Youíre so young. Just seventeen. The wise woman will guide you. The ring... the key to the future." Mother drew a shuddering breath. "It will lead Britland to...a better tomorrow."

Cerridwen kept a steady grip on the slack skin over her motherís hand. "I donít understand." A cry of woe rose inside. She couldnít help the fifty people living below in Red Roof in their struggle for survival. How could she bring a brighter future to Britland when she couldnít help the people in Corn World? But she must ease motherís passing. "Iíll go to Hailing, Mother."

"Good. Your brother will protect you." Mother choked. "With his life." She gasped for air. "So much pain." Her eyes closed. "Wish I could... say good-bye to Ivan." Her voice trailed off and her aura faded.

"Mother, donít..." Donít die, I need your love. Your wisdom. No use saying the words, which would make loss even harder to endure. Mother Nature eventually claimed all her children. When to let go―one of the most important lessons a healer must learn. Cerridwen kissed her motherís forehead and whispered, "I miss you already." Tears spilled from her eyes onto her motherís face as the truth sank in. Sheíd never again venture out to visit the sick with her mother. Never share the bread people gave them out of gratitude, or cook a thick vegetable soup from their gifts. "I love you."

A last breath eased from Motherís chest as her spirit lifted. Cerridwen sat back on her haunches, spread her arms and raised her face to the sky. "Farewell Mother! I will do as you wish." Taking a shuddering breath, she acknowledged that she had no idea of how to find Hailing.

Donít. Donít fail before youíve tried. Tears streamed down her face.

Too many questions scuttled around her mind, while her Motherís words sank into Cerridwenís soul. She too must travel and leave the life she knew behind. Sheíd go to Hailing and find the wise woman from her motherís dream. The mention of the mural, the ring and the task of leading Britland into a better future confused her. But she knew one thing: Motherís visions had always guided their lives for the best. And Cerridwen had promised.