Blue

Prologue & Introduction

Prologue

“I am not my mother’s daughter.

I am time.

The world measures its existence from the worn fabrics of mine, thus I learned to be

invisible but present. Always … present.

I am soul.

The cosmos signs its existence on the torn scraps of mine, thus I learned to be silent but

always heard. Always … heard.

I am heart.

The universe drums its existence through the offbeat rhythm of mine, thus I learned to be free

but always tethered. Always … tethered.

I am not my mother’s daughter.

I am Earth and this is a tale of how I re-birthed a world.”

***

Introduction

I need help, I did not sign up for this. No way I am – argh! – Do they ever shut up?!

Pale green eyes blink several times at the crib in front of him. Torn between what is

right and his nature, he turns his back and marches out of the room. A door slams and

reverberates through the upper level of the house. Two frightened babies shriek louder in

shock. He curls both hands into a fist, agitated by the noise. His body tenses and it takes a

lot for him not to put his knuckles through the nearest wall.

The bitter snarl on his face edges the disgust in deep, bracket-like grooves around his

mouth. He’d sooner murder those things than nurture them, but agreements are agreements

and he is a man of his word. Logically he knows this; mentally his nature works against him.

Long, determined strides rush him down the stairs and into a room filled top to bottom with

books. He glares up at the ceiling, the snarl turns smug. In here, the noise is muffled even to

his keen hearing. Momentarily he considers never leaving this space again, but the reality

sets in quick enough.

Babies, who in their right minds have them? I must get to the bottom of this before I do something

regrettable.

The chair groans under the force with which he throws himself into it. A quick

movement brings the phone to his ear while he turns to look outside. The view of a foam-

filled, rough river soothes his mood; the gentle light from the moon above pacifies and lulls

his thoughts.

“Maylee,” his voice is quiet and foreboding “I have a problem.”