“I’m not sure if you can hear me,” he said, “but I don’t really think you need a storm to carry you around. And I’m not sure if I can ask you this, but I can’t see that you would be angry, so would you mind telling her somehow that I’m getting ready to find her?”
There was no rumbling answer, but neither did he have that awkward feeling of having spoken to nothing.
With a deep breath, full and rich, Aedan turned around and looked at the protruding rungs of the long, shuddering ladder he had climbed in order to gain the top of the wall.
His feet and hands began tingling again, and in a sudden flood of something he could not define and dared not contain, he sprinted past the ladder and leapt off the wall. He hurtled out over an awful drop that was now inevitable. It would be a landing to crush every bone in his legs.
But whatever it was that had blazed in him earlier, now flared up again. He spread his arms and pulled down on the air as it whistled past. It caught in his fingers, almost like water.
And he slowed. Slightly, but enough.
He landed with a solid thud. Dust leapt from the ground, but his legs did not buckle. They felt strong, he felt strong, though he lacked even the beginnings of an explanation.
A stonemason had been working nearby. He was no longer working. His mouth hinged open. A chisel dropped from his grasp unnoticed and clinked into the debris of chippings and rubble.
Aedan stood up from his crouch, peering at his hands and feet with dawning astonishment. Gradually, he became aware of the stonemason and realised he was the object of the man’s gaping stare, so he nodded a hasty greeting and jogged away, a slow smile spreading over his face.
He had a book to finish today. He would make it two.
END OF BOOK ONE
Author’s Note
Some writers manage to work effectively in the gaps around a day job, but I’ve never had much success that way. I wrote for about ten years part-time, and while I scratched and tapped a good deal and learned a good deal more, I could never keep a big idea together during extended interruptions when the day job burst its banks and stole personal time. I also found that much of what I wrote in the exhausted hours around work was as flat as the way I’d felt while grinding it out.
Eventually, I realised that in order to imagine, capture and build the first part of this story, I needed uninterrupted time – and lots of it. Without the gift of time, there is no way I could have finished this book.
So I would like to thank my parents for constant, generous, trusting, uncomplaining support, without which my collected efforts would have been no better than one of Osric’s stews – an under- over-done disaster of little bits and pieces glued into a sticky and unpalatable confusion, prose to be attempted only by the very brave or the closely related.
Then, much is owed to Richard Allen who did most of the artwork and fought his way through a thorny first draft in order to arrive, torn and bleeding, at the idea for the cover. He made hundreds of corrections to the text, and many excellent suggestions. The sketches are even better than I’d hoped; they truly capture the world of the story. Fantastic work, bro!
Many thanks to Jared Mitchell for appearing on the cover and for the hours spent putting up with cameras as we acted out the scenes for the sketches.
To the proof readers (whose feedback in many cases was too deep and detailed for me to call them beta readers), surname-alphabetically: Richard Allen, Ed Dalton, Adam Fairall, Valerie Ganzevoort, Elizabeth Haber, Samantha Hawkins, Angie Hayler, Danny Jacobs, Brad Kingon, Rob and Ally Jones, Jean MacCallum, Wendy Morgan, Brent Meyers, Bryony Nicol, Max Painter, Stephen Pohlman, Andrew Poppleton, John Poppleton, Leandra Scheepers, David Tapp, Gary Van Lieshout, Jason Viljoen, and then my family – Shaun & Charnell, Josh & Carol-Ann, Kitta & Andy, and of course, Mom and Dad.
I cannot even begin to explain how much improvement you were responsible for – not just typos, but fixes to character, plot and artwork. I am so grateful for the time you made to read, to consider what you’d read, and then provide me with pages of comments, suggestions and reference material, all of which have made this a much, much better book than it was. You guys are amazing!
To the reader, thank you for beginning this journey with me. I really value the company of every reader and hope that you’ve enjoyed the story so far. The sequel is well underway, and I have no intention of dawdling with it.
I’d love to hear from you. If you’re able to write a review of this book, I’d greatly appreciate it. Every review helps pave the way to future books in the series (or, if the reviews are terrible, they will help pave the way to a different career). Either way, honest reviews are helpful to both writers and readers. If you spot any typos or errors (other than intentional ones – mostly used in dialogue) please mail me. I’ll be more than happy to credit you on the website.
You can find me at www.jrenshaw.com or on facebook: Jonathan Renshaw (Author), www.facebook.com/authorjrenshaw
I hope to meet with you again in book 2, and this time you’d better bring an oilskin …
Dawn of Wonder (The Wakening Book 1) Page 75
