The WildLight Keepers
Dedication
For Meira, Keeper of Wild Light
This story belongs to you before it belongs to anyone else. Not because you asked for it, but because you’ve always carried in you the spark that moves the world. For me, the proof of that is when years ago you discovered a printed rough draft of "My Sword and My Bow" and encouraged me to continue writing it. In a very real sense in that moment you inspired this entire site.
You are a Wild Light Keeper in every sense—sharp-eyed and curious, brave even when you’re scared, filled with wonder and also that uncanny ability to smell nonsense from a mile away.
This book began, as all the best things do, with a question: What if the animals had more to say than we thought? What if the wind was trying to warn us? What if the ones who could save us were children, not generals?
What if telepathy and globes and time-twisting crystals were real—and what if the only thing strong enough to unlock their power was fierce and unwavering love?
In these pages you’ll meet the chosen few: Hanna, Franny, Zooey, and Boaz. They are ordinary in all the ways that matter—scraped knees, awkward crushes, bad tempers, and morning breath—but extraordinary where it counts.
Each is gifted with a globe from beyond the stars, entrusted with missions to protect a planet most grown-ups have already stopped noticing. The stakes are high, the enemies are real, and the animals are not just watching—they're fighting too.
There are brumbies who remember things better than any book. Dingoes who mourn and howl and still find the courage to run. Alien alliances with strange names, ancient truths hidden in the earth’s crystal crust, and one very old physicist who may or may not have been coached by extraterrestrials in his final years. (Yes, Stephen Hawking might be in here. No, he never admits it.)
But this isn’t just a story about saving the Earth. It’s about believing that you were born to do something--even if you’re just a kid. Especially if you’re just a kid. It’s about finding your flavor (even if, like Zooey, you have absolutely no flavor for strawberries).
It’s about freckles that are really starlight. It’s about the kind of strength that comes not from lifting weights, but from lifting others.
Meira, may you always walk with wonder. May your globe hover gently, always near. May you recognize your calling when it arrives—glowing, humming, and wild with light.
Abba
For Meira, Keeper of Wild Light
This story belongs to you before it belongs to anyone else. Not because you asked for it, but because you’ve always carried in you the spark that moves the world. For me, the proof of that is when years ago you discovered a printed rough draft of "My Sword and My Bow" and encouraged me to continue writing it. In a very real sense in that moment you inspired this entire site.
You are a Wild Light Keeper in every sense—sharp-eyed and curious, brave even when you’re scared, filled with wonder and also that uncanny ability to smell nonsense from a mile away.
This book began, as all the best things do, with a question: What if the animals had more to say than we thought? What if the wind was trying to warn us? What if the ones who could save us were children, not generals?
What if telepathy and globes and time-twisting crystals were real—and what if the only thing strong enough to unlock their power was fierce and unwavering love?
In these pages you’ll meet the chosen few: Hanna, Franny, Zooey, and Boaz. They are ordinary in all the ways that matter—scraped knees, awkward crushes, bad tempers, and morning breath—but extraordinary where it counts.
Each is gifted with a globe from beyond the stars, entrusted with missions to protect a planet most grown-ups have already stopped noticing. The stakes are high, the enemies are real, and the animals are not just watching—they're fighting too.
There are brumbies who remember things better than any book. Dingoes who mourn and howl and still find the courage to run. Alien alliances with strange names, ancient truths hidden in the earth’s crystal crust, and one very old physicist who may or may not have been coached by extraterrestrials in his final years. (Yes, Stephen Hawking might be in here. No, he never admits it.)
But this isn’t just a story about saving the Earth. It’s about believing that you were born to do something--even if you’re just a kid. Especially if you’re just a kid. It’s about finding your flavor (even if, like Zooey, you have absolutely no flavor for strawberries).
It’s about freckles that are really starlight. It’s about the kind of strength that comes not from lifting weights, but from lifting others.
Meira, may you always walk with wonder. May your globe hover gently, always near. May you recognize your calling when it arrives—glowing, humming, and wild with light.
Abba