On Monday I revealed the title of the first book in my new series: WindSinger.
In addition, there will be three more books, following in this order:
I’m weaving a complete epic world that intertwines with all four of these books, culminating in a real coming together of forces in a ‘save the world’ sort of climax, but along the way, you’ll get to meet people who have some very interesting abilities (both magical and non-magical) and the first of those is a girl named Cecy.
In this opening chapter to WindSinger, Brad gets to watch Cecy in action…but what exactly is she doing? And why?
He watched her with the old man.
Most of the time she sat quietly, holding the man’s gnarled hand. From the curl of the man’s fingers inward, and the way the veins stood out in stark relief against skin that was near-translucent, it was clear the man was close to death.
The girl had come by nearly every day. At first, Brad thought she was a relative. A grandchild, perhaps. When he visited again later in the week, he saw her in a different room at first and then noticed the name tag attached to her shirt. She was most likely a volunteer, since she wasn’t in uniform.
She’d spent more time with the old man than anyone – the nameplate on the door said simply, “Nelson” – and she’d sat with Mr. Nelson in watchful silence, always with a small, mysterious smile playing about her lips. He’d never come to consciousness, not in all the time Brad had been visiting.
He found himself leaning forward in his chair, trying to get a better view as the girl’s face suddenly became shuttered. Her eyes closed, and she took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly as she pushed herself to her feet. Her golden-blonde hair fell forward as she bent over the old man. Her eyes stayed closed and Brad watched, spellbound.
She tucked her hair back behind her ear, leaning even closer, and then Brad saw the man buck, his back arching slightly. The girl placed her hands on his shoulders, and then – in an action so bizarre that Brad found himself looking on in a horrified fascination – her lips brushed the old man’s softly as she hovered there for what seemed an endless moment.
She stepped back hastily as alarms began to go off on the machines by his bedside, and when help arrived, she gave a sad but gentle nod as the nurse grabbed his chart from the foot of the bed and checked his vitals.
“He has a DNR,” The nurse said, placing the chart back with an efficient snap. “Does he have any family?”
“No,” the girl replied, shaking her head. “Not anymore. He lost his wife eleven years ago, and his twin sons died shortly after birth.”
The nurse left to summon an orderly, and Brad watched as the girl gently folded the man’s hands across his chest.
“Fly free,” he heard her say softly. “And thank you.”
She turned to leave, and for a brief moment, they locked eyes. Hers widened slightly as she realized he’d been watching, then she forced a smile and hastily looked away. Brad finally found himself able to move and his feet propelled him forward to the door, where he stood with his hands on the doorframe, watching her walk away.
What the hell had she been doing?
Look for WindSinger to be out at summer’s end!