Chapter 27
Mia was in a city, a city in Awlland. She knew the city, though she had never been there in waking life. She was walking down a crowded, narrow, dirt-packed street on a hot afternoon as merchants called out their wares from brightly colored canopied stands that lined the worn out two story stucco buildings on each side. "Fruits!" they called, or "sandals!" or "fresh fish!", a cacophony of sound mixed with the murmur of the milling crowd. Dark-skinned women in long toga-like apparel were walking about with baskets on their heads. A man wearing a long sleeved yellow silken shirt that offset his dirty brown breeches, his callused, bare feet dusty, carried a cage made of sticks that contained four chickens. Another pushed a cart of fruits, calling out his wares. It was among the likes of these that she strolled, neither knowing nor caring to where it was her feet were taking her. After a block or so she passed a narrow, dirty alley that interrupted the brightly colored tents of the marketplace. She saw an old lady leaning against a wall of the alley, head bowed in sorrow, wearing a tattered purple dress with a dirty, badly worn brown shawl that was once white. The word 'hag' sprung into her mind. Mia was compelled to approach the old lady. The hag looked up. She had been badly beaten, yet not entirely physically, not as one would from fight, but from a hard life, a sad existence of strife, poverty, and starvation. Mia was deeply moved.
Tired fear dulled the old woman's face, her eyes, well beyond tears, were pleading. "Please do not rob me. I have but little."
"I'm not going to rob you," Mia said softly. "What is it that you need?" She knew not why she asked; just that she did, that she had to.
The hag spoke with a wavering voice. "I have been so oppressed, dear child. I only ask that an old lady have that which is rightfully hers, that which was given wrongly." And with that, Mia reached for the string that held the satchel containing the Book of Life. She removed it from about her neck. She opened the satchel to retrieve the Book and willingly, even gladly, handed it to the pitiful, spent woman. In the dim recess of her dreamy mind, Mia knew that if this were actually happening, she would not do this. The feeling that now dominated her heart, that pushed aside reason, was one of satisfaction from having done a good deed, one she felt was just and right.
The hag took the Book from her. She hugged it to her bosom as one does a precious infant. “Thank you, dear child, and may Saa bless you!"
Mia started to wide-awake. Heart racing, she groped for the Book of Life. She pulled the satchel from its hiding place. She fumbled a few times before managing to yank the drawstrings open. The Book of Life was there. It had indeed been but a dream. Sweating, shaking, she returned the Book to its cradle and hid it away once again. She lay awake for nearly an hour, clutching the Book of Life to her chest, the warm, bonding magic soothing her, before she was finally overcome with fatigue. She dreamed not again that night.
Belemeriath, who had systematically roused all of the occupants of the two jail cells, awakened her. "They're coming to get you out!" He shot back and forth between various members of the party. "They're gonna let you go!" They all turned in the direction of the sound of four Mantadian guards approaching through the doorway of the cavern who, with few words, prompted the jailer to open both the cells.
"The great Queen Xyledes requires you!" said one of the guards. The guard did not await response. She spun militarily and started back the way she had come. The company eyed each other, then followed Finnegaff's lead. They exited the cells and hurried to catch up with the guard.
They emerged from the mouth of the dungeon squinting into the bright morning sun, the piercing beams broken by the forest canopy. They crossed the wet courtyard to the palace in little time. Without any prompting, Strongwind and Belemeriath halted with two of the guards upon arriving at the palace doors, knowing better than to try to go farther. Finnegaff, Mia and Romessee were ushered down the long hall to Queen Xyledes' chamber. The doormants (as they were properly titled) opened the tall, narrow doors as invitation to enter. There in the chamber was the great Queen Xyledes, standing on a dais that had not been there before. The Mantid wizard Skallagaff stood to her right, her daughter Riccid to her left. Mia scanned the room for Carameth, who was standing to the left. The scribe had opened her history account book. With quill in hand, she was ready for record. Flanking the right side of the room were two rows of Mantids, twelve in all, standing at attention. Mia noted the Mantadian hornets stood ready, clinging to walls, hanging from trees, crouching, antennae forward, angry eyes on the strangers.
Xyledes wasted no time. "Let it be known," the scribe flew into action, "that this is the historical true and right account of the choosing of the representative of Mantadia for the eighth Reading of the Book of Life." Sure, Mia thought. True and right. She rolled her eyes and sighed. She nearly crossed her arms in disgust, then recalled Queen Xyledes’ masterful ability to read body language. She opted to smile, phony though it was. "I have ruled that whatsoever Saa decides shall the throne thus uphold. Miagaff. We are prepared for the choosing. I have before us the best Mantids in all of Mantadia for Saa to select. You may invoke Saa now."
Mia burned. What a control freak! And Riccid was doing that irritating bouncing thing again. She just wanted to slap the rotten little princess right across her rotten little insect face.