Read More:
Windrusher and the Cave of Tho-Hoth

Windrusher and the Cave of Tho-hoth

“Superbly written, Windrusher and the Cave of Tho-hoth is thrilling, touching and unforgettable. With vividly drawn characters and a unique and distinctive voice, DiGenti grabs you from the first page with this exciting, fast-paced adventure story. The touching denouement brought tears to my eyes. The enchantment of Windrusher belongs on the silver screen.”

— Marilyn Parrish, author of Song of Surrender and The Presence

Read More Reviews


He heard the splashing sounds first. Water? Perhaps, but more solid, as though feet were tramping through a muddy field. Then he felt the pull of the mud on his feet. His feet?

Opening his eyes, Windrusher saw a bog surrounded by a thick growth of overhanging trees. Swamp grass covered the bog, and scattered through it were the rotted carcasses of unrecognizable animals. A stench of death filled the air. How did he come to be in the middle of this nightmare scene?

Humidity pressed down on him and covered his body with a greasy layer of sweat. The dense mat of intertwining branches trapped Rahhna’s rays and cast a shadow of gloom over the swamp. Shaking sweat from his eyes and nostrils, he walked cautiously across the boggy surface. Muck covered each paw, and with each step there was a wet plop as he pulled his leg from the mire.

Mud oozed between his toes and coated his legs. Straining to keep moving, heaving his shoulders forward with each torturous step, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. A large object passed in front of a slash of light that had cut through the tangled branches of black gums and giant tupelos.

Tho-hoth stood on a narrow islet of land thrust out of the swamp, the silvery rays playing off his broad, dark shoulders. He turned toward him, and the light caught the blood red Stone of Life. Sparks seemed to shoot from it, and Windrusher understood that he was back with the ancient god. But where was he? This was certainly not the Cave of Tho-hoth where he had first encountered the great god of wisdom.

Questions bounced in his head, but he needed to reach solid ground. To claw his way out of this swamp and… He wasn’t moving forward any more. The ooze had reached his belly and he was having difficulty lifting his legs. It felt as though the muck had hardened around each leg, and a fist was grasping his limbs and pulling him down.

“Tho-hoth,” he cried in panic. “Help me.”

Read the Prologue

Powered by WordPress