The Sacred Pool
jan. 2001 · Veil of Years Bog 1 · Baen Publishing Enterprises
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A MILLENNIUM
IN PROVENCE
A lost little girl weeps in the high wilderness, and her cries are heard ... Is her rescuer a crazy, lonely woodsman, or a timeworn Celtic god, and she his only believer Does an ancient female deity live beside the ool, among the ancient trees of the cool beeS grove, or is she little Pierrette's "imaginary friend", a poor substitute for a murdered mother
Will the Black Time come, when dark, evil machines tower over the sunny little harbor of Citharista and all the goodness of the world is locked in an ebon box, or will young Pierrette indeed become the great sorceress of her dreams, with fire at her fingertips to stem the evil tide
Journey with her across the ancient landscape, wander among the bleaching limestone bones of dragons that lie still atop the hills, and see for yourself whether the old gods yet endure....
The Sacred Pool stands at the midpoint of a vast historic tapestry try, looking both forward and back: From the sea-girt Paleolithic caves of Sormiou and enchanted forests of ancient Gaul, to the steamy swamps of Midicor IV, a million years hence; from old Polybius in his leather tent at the siege of Numantia, to Achibol the Charlatan in a cybernetic fortress buried beneath the Columbia Icefields of Alberta, L. Warren Douglas is there-and he takes his readers with him.
At the publisher's request, this title is sold without DRM (Digital Rights Management).
IN PROVENCE
A lost little girl weeps in the high wilderness, and her cries are heard ... Is her rescuer a crazy, lonely woodsman, or a timeworn Celtic god, and she his only believer Does an ancient female deity live beside the ool, among the ancient trees of the cool beeS grove, or is she little Pierrette's "imaginary friend", a poor substitute for a murdered mother
Will the Black Time come, when dark, evil machines tower over the sunny little harbor of Citharista and all the goodness of the world is locked in an ebon box, or will young Pierrette indeed become the great sorceress of her dreams, with fire at her fingertips to stem the evil tide
Journey with her across the ancient landscape, wander among the bleaching limestone bones of dragons that lie still atop the hills, and see for yourself whether the old gods yet endure....
The Sacred Pool stands at the midpoint of a vast historic tapestry try, looking both forward and back: From the sea-girt Paleolithic caves of Sormiou and enchanted forests of ancient Gaul, to the steamy swamps of Midicor IV, a million years hence; from old Polybius in his leather tent at the siege of Numantia, to Achibol the Charlatan in a cybernetic fortress buried beneath the Columbia Icefields of Alberta, L. Warren Douglas is there-and he takes his readers with him.
At the publisher's request, this title is sold without DRM (Digital Rights Management).
Om forfatteren
L. Warren Douglas-anthropologist, naturalist . poet and historian-puts it ail together, me poet ng myth, historic characters and events, and ancient and future landscapes with a touch of fantasy. Douglas's works are a treasure trove of ancient wisdom, lost legends, cutting-edge biotech, and unforgettable characters. From Sioux Falls to the South of France, Douglas has walked the streets and trails, smelled the flowers, named and savored the winds off mountain, sea, and plain-and his readers experience it.
Douglas's mysteries are genuine, whether hidden in the myths of a thousand worlds, recorded by the world-spanning biocybes of Midicor IV, or obscured by the mists of the Celtic otherworld where dead gods speak, and ultimately it is the reader who must wander dusty trails, explore forbidding cityscapes, and discover answers as real as sweat, as poignant as lost love, buried deep in the forgotten past or hidden on a far, far world whose light will not impinge on wisdomus for a million years. For Douglas, to travel hopefully is indeed a better thing than to arrive, and his reader's journeys are their own reward.
Douglas's mysteries are genuine, whether hidden in the myths of a thousand worlds, recorded by the world-spanning biocybes of Midicor IV, or obscured by the mists of the Celtic otherworld where dead gods speak, and ultimately it is the reader who must wander dusty trails, explore forbidding cityscapes, and discover answers as real as sweat, as poignant as lost love, buried deep in the forgotten past or hidden on a far, far world whose light will not impinge on wisdomus for a million years. For Douglas, to travel hopefully is indeed a better thing than to arrive, and his reader's journeys are their own reward.
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