Gary Kirby

The Karjill: Book II of the Three Stones Gary Kirby

Time and tide sometimes clash into chaos, sometimes swell together into a moonlit sea of tranquility, and sometimes, very rare times, time and tide meet at the perfect angle of chaos and calm. This was such a time. And on such a tide, in the young of the year when the earth was still fresh and green, a small clump of seaweed washed ashore. A little karjill found a pearl inside that became his destiny and his journey. The dark waves reached for him, almost like the lips of a lover promising him peace, comfort, the end of his motion. He drifted into them. The light dimmed. The blackness grew. The folds of repulsive flesh coiled around him. He had failed. The waves crashed against the sacred walls. They lashed against the dome, tore into Flat Rock which shuddered, then split and was sucked into the sea. All natural laws broke as the waves refused to be held in by the land. Mountains were ripped out by their roots and the wind drilled holes into the sea floor. He was hurtling into a chaos of dark and glistening beauty, a bursting clash of light and sound