`Where do you come from?' I asked. `How do you know of such magic?'
Sonya Deanna Terry makes her literary debut with EPIPHANY - THE GOLDING and trying to find how this obviously very gifted writer arrived at such an auspicious introduction we find only that she is `a former Canberra resident, a communications student and a rabid threatre-goer.' So we must assume that she is Australian, has a keen sense of history and magic, and will continue this novel with a series to follow.
What strikes this reader first is her ability to transport us in time in a prologue that is poetically stunning and establishes the origins of the story that follows. To taste her skill, a portion of that Prologue is shared here: `An excerpt of a letter from Edward Lillibridge to his sister, Meredith. Written in the autumn of 1760. ... The boy has led me of late into a rather extraordinary situation. Several days ago, he traipsed to the wood on the morn, telling me he would return to the cottage in time for dinner. Midday passed, as did the afternoon. Ned was nowhere to be seen. When the sky became streaked with garish displays of orange and violet , and smoke whirled and curled from chimneys in the dale, I stood on my doorstep, paced for a spell, and watched the shadows beyond the oak grove, anxious for Ned's return . Ned did not arrive home and so I donned my cloak and ventured into the darkly mossy sanctum of the towering pines and elms. It was at the edge of a clearing that I discovered a clue as to where Ned might be. His wood-cutting axe was lying upon a nest of pine-needles. My heart became chaotic then. All through my chest and head was the thud of fear. I could not for the life of me see any sign of my dear son, and I thought of my Mrs Lillibridge, peaceful now in her grave, and my thoughts dwelt horribly on the morbid. In my fettered imagination, I saw two gravestones side by side and felt that familiar tug of grief that Iona's demise had so thoroughly instilled in me.... Presently I heard the promising sound of rustling leaves and then, when I looked to where the leaves had alerted me, found my son, prone upon the ground with eyes closed. I cried out his name in despair... The leaves parted then, and there before me appeared a dark-complexioned woman of considerable beauty , with hair that was not gathered upwards as is proper for anyone of that sex. In a strongly accented voice she said, `He fell from the tree.' She gestured to the boughs of an oak above. `He attempted to chop one of the higher branches.'... `Please ...' The woman , obviously a gypsy of some sort, insisted on continuing to talk to me. Me in my ill-feared mourning! `Allow me to return this boy to health,' she said. `Allow me, sir, I beg of you!' etc, as we sense the return to life of Ned and the mystery surrounding the tale.
Sonya then jumps us to the year 2008 and the author's synopsis of the subsequent story is excellent: `Rosetta Melki, part-time tarot reader, struggling sole parent and full-time idealist, begins a reading group to examine a fantasy novel, and discovers the book to be anything but fiction. The book, written in the 1770s by Edward Lillibridge, is a hidden history that reveals the true beginnings of the global monetary system. Lillibridge's tale surrounds ancients from a gold-obsessed empire and the sprites they oppress: intuitive clan dwellers whose currency of choice is kindness. Whether discontent in rich and poor alike will ever make way for the Currency of Kindness, whether anyone can believe enough in humanity's true ancient history to activate the dawn of a benevolent new era, remains to be seen, but the time-crossing sprites of Lillibridge's descriptions have set their sights on Rosetta. Their attempts at providing a companion to assist in the quest they have planned for her leads to a clumsy introduction to Matthew Weissler, a feet-on-the-ground finance executive who is disturbed to find he's being followed by an elf. It would seem Matthew and Rosetta have nothing in common, and yet the sprites believe if the two work together, a renaissance known as The Silvering will occur. But someone from the empire of the past is intent on preserving Earth's pattern of pain, and is determined to prevent the sprites from succeeding.'
Sonya manages to sustain our fascination with this story within a story throughout this long epic. She very ably captures the life-sorting of contemporary teenagers, paints tapestry-like settings for her story locales, and introduces mythological ideas and creatures with contemporary realities and people influenced by concepts only accessible with sensitivity to the ancients. Warm, humorous, intuitive, and imaginative, this book bodes very well for a continued cycle. Welcome to the strange near prophetic reflections of Sonya Deanna Terry.