Statue of Ku (Moa Book Series, #2) - Excerpt

Chapter 1 - Blank Slate

“You can’t stop something from being born.” –Rebecca Gummere

Chapter I

Blank Slate

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Ritual: Invocation of Ku

Stone: Amethyst

Blend: Gem Elixir

Create an altar outside. Use natural items when possible—a tree stump or a bed of moss makes an excellent altar, smooth stones to represent offerings to Ku. Spray gem elixir through ritual area and imagine it creating a protective light bubble around you and the altar. Before placing your stones on the altar, hold them in your palm and exhale your wishes and desires into each stone. Let each stone take on a specific wish or desire. Include as many as necessary. When finished, place offerings onto the altar.

Blessed Be.

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“Where are we now? All I see are clouds!” Moa’s hands and face are pressed against the window of a luxurious private jet speeding toward Egypt. On one side of this ultra- sleek plane is an overstuffed banquette. Moa is seated on the opposite side in one of a long row of deep, plush, butter-soft leather captains’ chairs that swivel. The cabin’s fabric and wood colors are lush and verdant. Hand-hewn, richly stained wood lines the lower half of the plane’s interior, and the upper walls and ceiling are covered in a warm sand cloth the color of the pyramids or dunes at sunset.

“Fruit, miss?” A beautiful flight attendant with glossy, black hair knotted in a low bun leans above Moa with a gilded, hand-painted tray arrayed with luscious island fruits— mango, pineapple, star fruit, papaya, and guava.

Moa chases a wiggly piece of mango around on the tray until the attendant sets it down and offers help by using some tongs, which hang on the arm of the tray. Her smooth skin and curious dark-brown eyes and high cheekbones are accentuated as she smiles. Then she gracefully places four pieces of mango on a white china plate with gold edging.

“I still haven’t gotten over my recent transition to human form,” Moa explains loudly to the attendant over the jet engines.

The flight attendant pulls back with a wary look and moves quickly to the back of the plane toward a large, curving staircase which leads up to a well-appointed kitchen. In front of the staircase is a large, round mahogany conference table with flat-screen televisions visible above the windows on either side of the comfy leather seats.

Moa looks over at Hillary, her best friend. “Didn’t she understand what I meant?” She uses her fingers to capture the slippery mango then puts the entire dripping piece in her mouth.

Eighteen-year-old Hillary Hause is seated on the smooth, brown leather banquette opposite Moa’s seat. She sniffs as she digs through her large, green leather purse, looking for a tissue. In her search she unearths a variety of artifacts in its cavernous depths: a scuffed and worn diary, an opalescent stone found in Honolulu’s Thomas Square Park, a proprietary blend of essential oils and, finally, the elusive tissues. After blowing her nose, she opens the oil and anoints her forehead, chest, and wrists, tightly screws the cap back on, and throws the vial back in the purse. Then she chomps down on a tart slice of crisp, green apple she has plucked from the fruit tray.

“There aren’t a lot of people like you here on Earth, Moa. In fact, you’re the only person I know who was once an Ancient entity, lived on Earth for seven years in the mid- 1500s, became an Ancient Gatekeeper, and then rematerialized into human form.”