Previews!

Hi to everyone in imagination land. I hope you had a great weekend. I must apologise for being late with this preview of THE SPIRIT OF THE MOON. As some of you may know (or may not!) I've been sick for the last five days, wrestling with an extremely dedicated flu. It was certainly doing its job to eradicate me but I won the war in the end HA-HA! Before I say something delirious, I just want to say enjoy this sneak preview, remember it's fantasy aimed at children and all you adults, whip the cobwebs out of your imaginations and enjoy! (Although I've got to say it's a bit scary having my work out and about for people to read)

This scene starts off the book, shows us an event that gets the story rolling and introduces us to two of the main protagonists (Baddies!). Have fun!

PROLOGUE

This story starts with the boy who was never loved and the Father too wicked for his own good. The moon was full and close to the Earth. You could almost touch its craters by reaching out into the cold, night sky. And in one dark moment, that is precisely what the old man and the boy meant to do. Touch the moon and bring it crashing to the ground.

          “Father, I’ve made all the preparations, just as you asked,” said the boy.

The old man’s cold, black eyes squinted at the boy and a small, whispery smile came to his mouth.

          “Be sure that you have Phaestus. The planets will not align again for quite some time for a performance such as this. Do wrong by me boy and I’ll whip your back till it bleeds.”

The boy cringed inside for he knew all too well the feel of his Father’s belt buckle.

          “The circles have been drawn as you asked. The larger one contains the symbol of binding.”

The old man inspected the work of the boy. He had indeed done as asked. He did not thank the boy, as that was not of his kind. The boy expected no more from the old man with black eyes.

          “Then stand away boy. The time is upon us to trap a God.”

The boy ran and hid behind the old garden fountain. His Father knelt in the smaller circle and uttered a few words in a language long gone. The circle around him flashed a florescent red and a ball of energy enveloped the old man. He was like a bird in a cage. He arose and held his hands to the moon. He chanted the words with a silver tongue, mighty incantations that would make your ears bleed. The boy could not understand, nor hear proper the words being spoken. But he could feel the power in the air and this frightened him a little. The magical symbol drawn into the larger circle began to pulsate blue.            Astonishingly the light of the full moon concentrated on that circle and the sky went dark. His Father spoke louder now, drawing to an inevitable conclusion. The boy looked upwards towards the moon and it seemed to shudder, turning crimson red. The blue light of the large circle grew so bright that the boy closed his eyes. He knew in his heart that the old man was winning the battle of wills.

“Yes, come to me, my darling!”

With the power of the old world,

And the darkness of the black sun,

I bind your power to this Earthly realm,

 With this old, dark magic I have won!

The last thing the boy remembered was an explosion of blue flame and the thought of whether he was going to die. He awoke behind the fountain, with the sun starting to rise in the east. The moon, no longer close to the Earth, seemed sickly and had the colour of curdled cream. He arose to see the old man, his Father, standing next to the larger circle. Above it was a floating a ball of blue energy.

          “About time you awoke, weak boy. Come and see where your Father has succeeded and others have not.”

Phaestus walked cautiously to his Father’s side. Inside the blue ball, he could see a figure.

          “Look closer, boy. There she is and soon the power she controls will be ours.”

The boy peered through the blue haze. In the centre of the ball he saw what looked to be a child, dressed in a white gown, fast asleep with no care in the world.

          “Is that it Father? A little child?”

The old man struck the boy hard on the back of the head.

          “What have I taught you boy. Gods take many forms. Do not be deceived by what they show to your eyes. They have walked the Earth countless times and fooled many a man.”

          “So...so is that her then?” said Phaestus cowering away.

          “Yes, my son. That is indeed the one whose power we seek. That is the Spirit of the Moon and she is all mine.”

The boy stared at the little child and a whispery smile came to his lips.