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The Burning Sands

By Carole Lehr Johnson

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Prologue

Cornwall, England
September 1656

The girl’s auburn hair glinted in the warm sun as she patted a handful of wet sand into a small pewter cup. A squeal of laughter brought her head up to peer at the boys running into the crashing swells. Wind caught her wild curls in a dance around her face, and at that moment, a series of waves grew in intensity. Her brother and his friend were swallowed by each pounding surge.

She held her breath until she saw her brother emerge with force, a look of fear crossing his face as he screamed, “Nick! Nick!”

Sebastian dove, and after a long while, resurfaced, eyes searching for his friend. He repeated the action many times before Grace ran toward the edge of the beach, the cup clutched to her chest.

Her eyes remained on the massive rock a distance from where the boys had begun their usual race. They always swam from this stretch of sand to the rock and back as a game. Nick usually won.

Time stretched with each of Sebastian’s dives, always coming up with no sign of Nick. Grace screamed, tears coursing along her cheeks. “Sebastian, save him, please save Nick!”

She dropped to her knees in the damp sand as the clouds darkened, like great grey beasts flying overhead, screeching a warning of the impending storm. The wind rose, and Grace’s eyes stung from the salt spray. Her tears became sobs, and after a time, slender trembling arms wound around her shoulders.

Sebastian’s shaking voice pleaded, “I tried, Grace—” his voice caught on gasping breaths, “—I tried,” before burying his drenched head against her small shoulder.

Huge drops of stinging rain slapped them with such force they sprinted for shelter beneath the over-hanging rocks by the cliffs that edged their favorite beach.

Grace would never remember it as such again.

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