Ted Dekker - Lunatic

ur story begins in a world totally like our own, yet completely different. What once happened seems to be repeating itself two thousand years later.

But this time the future belongs to the young, to the warriors, to the lovers. To those who can follow hidden clues and find a great treasure, which will unlock the mysteries of life and wealth.

Twenty years have passed since the lush, colored forests were turned into desert by Teeleh, enemy of Elyon and vilest of all creatures. Evil now rules the land and shows itself as a painful, scaly disease that covers the flesh of the Horde living in the wasteland.

The powerful green waters, once precious to Elyon, with the exception of seven small lakes surrounded by seven small forests, have vanished from the earth. Those few who have chosen to follow the ways of Elyon are now called Forest Dwellers, bathing once daily in the powerful waters to cleanse their skin of the scabbing disease.

For thirteen years, the number of their sworn enemy, the Horde, grew, and the Forest Guard was severely diminished by war, forcing Thomas, supreme commander, to lower the army's recruitment age to sixteen. A thousand young recruits showed themselves worthy and now serve in the Forest Guard.

From among the thousand, four young fighters Johnis, Silvie, Billos, and Darsal-were handpicked by Thomas to lead.

Unbeknownst to Thomas and those in the forests, our four heroes have also been chosen by the legendary white Roush, guardians of all that is good, for a far greater mission, and they are forbidden to tell a soul. Braving terrible battles, crushing defeat, capture, death, and betrayal, they pursued their quest to find the seven original Books of History, a mission that took them from one reality into another.

From their world to the histories, two thousand years into their past.

Into a city known as Las Vegas.

And now we join our heroes deep in the mountains of Romania on the day after their great victory, having secured all seven books, thereby foiling the plans of the Dark One, who would use the books to destroy humankind. They will now leave our world and return to Thomas and the Forest Guard, two thousand years from now.

But five years have passed since they left their home in the dis tant future. The world they once knew there has changed. If you are Horde, sworn enemy of Thomas and the Forest Guard, you will undoubtedly think very favorably about the change.

Unfortunately Johnis, Silvie, and Darsal are not Horde.

lmost a day had passed. Twilight now fell over the horizon. Curling smoke still wafted heavenward, blocking the stars. A cool breeze drove the lingering stench of burning debris away from them.

Darsal sat across from Silvie, knees to her chest. Before her were the seven books, neatly lined up in a row between the girls. Two black ones were stacked on top of each other. Beside them, the green. Next, purple. Red. And then the blue and brown stacked together.

The seven Books of History. Recovered at last.

Her face was still damp, tears mixing with soot.

"Are you ready?" Johnis's soft voice came from behind Darsal. Then his hand touched her shoulder, and he crouched between her and Silvie.

He pocketed two books, placed a third in front of him, and drew his knife. "Darsal, it's time to go home. To Middle." He smiled. "It's over. You'll see. No more books. We won."

The last time he'd asked her to slit her finger, they'd been stolen away by seven accursed bundles of paper and leather, bound with twine. Sucked through time into a world of cars and airplanes and vampires and terrible betrayal.

Of nightmare and sorrow.

Of misery and cruel sacrifice.

"It feels more a reckoning than triumph."

"We saved the world, Darsal," Johnis said. "We did it. You did it."

"Mission accomplished." Darsal tried to scoff but couldn't. She couldn't help staring at the books. "Back. Back to what?"

Johnis and Silvie kept quiet. Let her talk.

"It's been a long time for me," she said, aware of the tension in her voice. "A bit unnerving."

They both watched her. Waiting. For hours. Johnis refused to touch the books until she was ready. And they'd been far beyond patient.

It was long past time.

"We'll be with you, Darsal," Silvie said. "We'll return heroes."

Darsal nodded. She picked up one of the books, eased it into her waistband, and set another in front of her. Silvie did the same.

Now all three knelt with a single book before them.

Darsal slit her index finger with her blade. Johnis and Silvie cut theirs in unison. Johnis drew a loud breath. Grinned.

"You'll come to the wedding, Darsal, won't you?"

A forced smile. "I wouldn't miss it."

He winked at her and traded an amused look with Silvie, then held his finger a fraction of an inch off the leathery cover of his book. Silvie's hand snaked over his a second behind.

"For Elyon," he said.

Darsal's hand shot out and pressed against the cover of her book. "For Elyon."

'm growing weary of your incompetence, Marak." Qurong stormed around the perimeter of the conference room, gray eyes ablaze. Long dreadlocks and black and red robes flapped about the supreme commander's tall, powerful frame. Morst-a white paste meant to soothe the painful burning, mute the stench, and conceal the lesions covering his skin-was beginning to crack with his temper.