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Monday, July 5, 2010


Ten years ago, a legend was born among the Teken Clansmen; one Lord Arthus intends to keep secret.

Each Teken is born with a mark, but tenth year Deglan Borian’s mark has been morphing again, unlike any of his peers. His sleep is plagued with danger and a pale faced girl who is calling for him to find her. When the Teken authorities catch wind of his mark, Deglan’s parents encourage him to find the girl, regardless of where it takes him.

Daydreamer Meia is a troubled foster child who moves to a new home every few months. When she’s not in the clouds, she spends her time in a make believe world, far from the cares of the schoolyard. Normal ten-year-old girls dream of tea parties and dolls, but not Meia. Her dreams come from the pages of an adventure book and stretch well into the fantasy world and beyond.

Meia can hardly contain her joy when her new foster parents decide to take her on the vacation of a lifetime. The Cook Islands have been the backdrop for her dreams since before she could remember.

When Meia meets Deglan on the Penrhyn atoll, both of their lives will change forever. Secrets of the legend come to life will haunt their every move. Only one minor problem… Meia is a human and Deglan is… a dragon.


“Deglan?” Mom’s voice rang through the heavy morning mist. “Deglan, get up! You are going to be late for instruction again.”

I shoved the pillow over my head and rolled over. The pale speckled face from my dream still lingered around the edges of my mind. I hoped to get a few more minutes in the fantastic dream.

“Deglan Borian,” said my impatient Mom. “If you don’t get up right now…”

I sensed her reaching to the floor and knew what came next. I jumped from my pallet as the book flew past me, narrowly missing. “Ha!”

“You better be up,” she said, unimpressed. “Carik is already waiting outside.”

“What? He said he wasn’t going to instruction today.” I peeked out the window to see the large grey body of Carik chasing a garden gnome. “Carik, leave him alone! Didn’t he already call truce?”

Carik looked up at me and laughed. “There is no such thing as truce to a dragon.”

The garden gnome ran between his legs and dove for his burrow, nearly caught by Carik’s swipe.

“If you aren’t careful,” I pointed at the other side of the lawn, “the whole lot of ‘em will revolt when your back is turned. I’ve seen it and it isn’t pretty.”

Carik laughed again. “Get down here; we’re going to be late.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep your horns on. I’m coming.”

In the washroom, I gazed at my unfamiliar reflection in the mirror and cringed. I’d heard terrible things about the end of the ninth year, but this was ridiculous.