Five years ago, I met Sarah Drew, who was writing a book that felt so sacred that she couldn’t quite talk about it at the time. We became instant BFF’s, so I had the opportunity to witness the unfolding of the book she was writing, which she named Gaia Codex. Her first descriptions of it came in hushed tones, as if speaking of it too loudly might make it disappear. The transmission she was downloading was tenuous at first, like silver threads slowly weaving themselves into a tapestry. But as the book came into form over the next few years, I began to piece together the mysterious story Sarah shared with me as we met for long hikes in the woods. It went something like this. . . .
For lifetimes, in dream time and through telepathy, the Priestesses of Astera have been preparing for the time when they would gather in the flesh, in real time, in order to save Mother Gaia. It was not safe for them to meet any other way. The risk of having all of these mighty beings together was too great. The Priestesses hoped they would not need to activate their immense power, that we as humans would wake up before we destroyed our planet. But humanity was too asleep. Disaster struck, and everything began to unravel.
Gaia Codex begins in post-apocalyptic Earth. We aren’t told what happened. But it’s not pretty, and humanity is suffering. It’s finally time for the Priestesses to do what they’ve been trained to do . . .
She doesn’t know it but the healing of the planet hinges on Lila Sophia, whose very being is an alchemical experiment that will either restore the balance of human beings on Mother Earth—or wreak more havoc.
Her mother Dominique was preparing a manuscript—the Gaia Codex, a weaving of words and images and ancient codes of regeneration that activates this restoration of balance—when she died tragically.
Lila Sophia is guided to Chateau Lumiere, one of the Temples of Astera, where for the first time the Priestesses are all gathering. What transpires there changes everything. But I’m not going to tell you what happens next, just as Sarah never told me on those many hikes we took.