These pages are your link to Atrus, son of Gehn, and the last of the race of the D’ni – the masters of the Art, the craft of linking to other worlds through the decscriptive art of writing. For most of his young life, Atrus thought the stories his grandmother told him were just strange legends. Now his time comes to explore the magnificent underground realm…
“Gehn huffed, exasperated. “You are no good to me if you work at this pace all the time. I need Ages. Dozens of them. Hundreds of them! That is our task, Atrus, don’t you see? Our sacred task. To make Ages and populate them. To fill up the nothingness with worlds. Worlds we can own and govern, so that the D’ni will be great again. So that my grandsons will be lords of a million worlds!”
A young Atrus and his grandmother live in a desert near an extinct volcano. There doesn’t seem to be much more to Atrus’ life until a stranger emerges from a cave in the volcano and changes his life forever.
“He read on, then stopped, the last thread that had connected him to his father broken in that instant. Slowly he sat down in Gehn’s chair, nodding to himself, a bitter laugher escaping him.”
“There he’d been, admiring his father, exalting him almost, for his courage, his patience in finding a path through the darkness of the tunnels back to D’ni. And all the while the path had been clearly marked, here in his grandfather’s notebook. It wasn’t Gehn who had taken the risks, but Gehn’s father.”