

# Mia's Stand

Book one of two

Published by David G. Hartman at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 David G. Hartman

Cover and title page art by author

Book 2: The Mad Wizard of Slagg available at Smashwords

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free ebook, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download a copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

Chapter 1

Mia Murphy looked around through the clear, clean air at the miles of gently rolling hills of deep green, dotted with occasional clumps of trees. Only a moment ago she'd been seated cross-legged on her bedroom floor doing homework while she brushed her hair. Wow! I fell asleep fast, she thought. She tried to force herself to awaken from the dream. It didn't work.

The sun shone warm where she sat just beyond the edge of the cool shade of a huge tree. Distant birds sang their calls; cicadas buzzed insect music. The far away mountains were topped with an icing of snow that fed a stream, which meandered its lazy way through the broad valley below. She spoke aloud. "Okay! I need to wake up now!" Still the green fields rolled on; the birds sang, the cicadas buzzed, and the river meandered. Again she attempted to shake herself out of it. Still, she remained in the dream. She'd had dreams before that seemed real, and in fact once had confused a dream with reality, but she was only seven when that happened. This dream, however, seemed real real. Something wasn't right. She plucked a few blades of grass and glanced about for something, anything familiar.

"Well," she said aloud. "I'll check the place out until I decide to snap out of it. Kind of pretty scenery." She dropped the blades of grass and stood. Her cold, sweating hand gripped the hairbrush as if it were a security blanket. She looked to her right, then to her left, then far into the distance to her right. There she saw only wild countryside. A strong feeling inside told her that she had to move, and that she had to move now. She started downhill toward the stream a half mile away.

"SSSSSSSStoppp!" a ghostly voice whispered. She froze in her tracks. Did she hear that right? Was that a voice? Or just the wind? She took two more careful steps.

"SSSSSSStop go wesssssssst!" There was no mistake. Those were clear, audible words and they were directed at her! They had to be; she was the only one in sight. But where was the voice coming from? Her pulse doubled and every available pore she had goose bumped.

"Uh...who...who said that?" She looked around. There was no place for someone to hide on this low grassy hillside. She was quite alone.

"Wessssssst isssss that way." The branches of the tree leaned hard to the right as if blown by a great wind, yet only a slight breeze stirred the air. It was the tree that was speaking to her!

Her head swam. Her pulse raced. I gotta calm down! It's a dream, so it's not like I'm gonna die or something. She turned to the tree and tried to speak in a calm and controlled voice. "Okay. So I'm talking to a tree. Who are you?"

"I am Tree," it said. The leaves swirled when Tree spoke. "You mussssst go wesssst." Then Tree held very still. Her eyes dropped to the trunk. The patterns in the bark made the image of a smiling face.

She locked her eyes on the face. "Why should I go west? You don't know what's west of here." Mia grappled for words. "You're a tree and you can't go anywhere!" She took a few slow steps backward, out of Tree's reach.

"I am Tree. I am ooooooold. I know much. The river is bad way fffffffor you. Danger awaitsssss." Tree's voice mixed in symphony with the wind so that Mia had to listen carefully to what he was saying.

She thought for a moment. "So, how is it a tree can talk anyway?"

"Go wesssst!" Tree said as he again leaned his branches to the right. She looked to the west but saw nothing. No roads, no houses, nothing but countryside as far as she could see. Suddenly she felt very alone.

"What's over there...west?" she asked Tree. She looked back at the tree's trunk. The face was gone.

"Tree!" she demanded. "If you can hear me, bend your leaves like you did." She held her hands high above her head and bent sideways at the waist. Nothing. "Tree!" she yelled and stomped a foot. "Stupid tree!" She soon gave up. Again she looked around the countryside, now for what felt like the tenth time, and even far, far away, there were no roads or houses or any signs of people. Only wild countryside. She started walking in the direction Tree had pointed. What if he's right, she thought. What if there's something dangerous at the river?

She kept the sun in front of her and walked for what must have been hours. She was getting hungry and thirsty and very frightened. She tried to wake herself up a few times, but now had serious doubts that this was a dream. And if it wasn't, then where in the world was she? The grassy hills rolled into the distance and the mountains were getting closer. She could see where the plains turned to forest in the foothills, but that was quite afar.

Could she have been kidnapped? Her mind raced. Hit on the head or something, taken out into the country and left for dead but wasn't dead and now can't find her way home and can't remember any of it? She felt her head and found no bumps or sore spots. The sun was beginning to set. She was tired of walking. Maybe she was drugged. Yes! That's it! Drugged and dumped in the boonies somewhere. The only logical explanation so far. She stopped in her tracks. Drugs might make a person forget things. They might even make you talk to trees! She'd never done drugs in her life of sixteen years. Except once, when she had her wisdom teeth out, she had something narcotic, some kind of pill, but she didn't like what it did.

She sat on a log by a tree. Why were there no people? Anywhere? Where was she? She began to cry, and cried for some time, but for how long, she didn't know. What would she do at night with no place to sleep and nowhere to go? And what if there's dangerous, man-eating animals out here? She looked up across the hills, surprised that it had become very dark very quickly. She dried her eyes with her flannel shirtsleeve. Through her waning tears she glimpsed the lights of a town some distance to the west. I'm gonna be cold with no jacket or...I wonder if I could build a fire? Maybe rub two sticks together or something. Finding firewood in the dark might be a chore, too. Being so hungry didn't help matters. Then it hit her.

Lights! There's people over there! And they've got to have a phone! She clenched her hairbrush and stumbled in the direction of the lights. They didn't look so far off. She'd be there in a matter of minutes. She tripped on a rock and fell to the ground. She lay there and held her hurt knee for a few moments. She decided to slow down to a steady walk, but even at that she didn't see a small stream, accidentally stepped in it and soaked both her tennis shoes to the ankles. The night air was cooling fast. Mia's breathing came rapid and irregular.

The town was farther away than she thought. Daylight had faded quickly by the time she arrived at the edge of the township. It had just one wide street of dirt, and a few side streets better to be called paths. The buildings were one or two rooms at most, low built with thatched roofs with no glass in the windows. Dried mud carelessly oozed from between the planks that made up the walls of the buildings. She noticed that there were no cars. The whole place didn't smell very good, kind of like old, rotten hamburger, or maybe freezer burnt bread, or both. Somewhere down the street she could hear several big dogs engaged in a fight. She was glad that she'd entered the town from this end.

Something about the place didn't feel right. Playing the role of a cute, frail girl (which frail she wasn't, she just appeared to be) had worked for her often enough that she knew how to use it as a tool. So even if the inhabitants of the town were as weird as the town itself, she thought, she could not see how anyone could refuse aid to a poor, desperate little girl, cold, lost, and scared.

The first few buildings she passed appeared to be deserted. In their front yards, which were bordered by thick, iron fences with crooked gates, grew dark, looming trees. Not big trees like Tree, but medium sized, with twisted, gnarled, leafless branches that looked like skeletal hands reaching into the night. Mia kept a good distance from the fenced yards.

There! The third place on the right. No fence, no trees, and lights in the window. And she could hear voices coming from inside! She ran. The double swinging wooden doors had no top or bottom, two hinged planks hanging side by side about a foot off the ground. She didn't take her teary eyes from them for fear they would disappear.

The place fell to a dead quiet upon her entrance. One of the door planks swung back and forth on rusty hinges, squeaking a slowing rhythm. Every eye in the place turned on her.

She looked through the haze of the torch-lit room as they stared. The floor was as dirt as the streets and the air reeked of smoke, decay, old sweat and body waste. There was a bar, a few tables with benches for chairs, all made from raw wood with branches intact. Clay mugs along with large bones with half of the flesh missing crowded the tables. A fire smoldered in the middle of the room, just a pile of wood with no border, over which the half-burned corpse of some animal on a spit cooked.

The most repulsive sight of all was the people that occupied the room. She had never ever imagined anyone or any thing could be so ugly. None of them were more than four feet tall. Their filthy clothes were made of a heavy canvas material tied fast with rope belts. The conical wide brimmed hats some of them wore were just as scummy. Each and every one of them was barefoot. Their noses were disproportional to their faces and had huge bumps, maybe warts, with twisted black hairs. So big were their noses that they nearly hid their huge ear-to-ear toothless mouths. She couldn't tell which were women or which were men for the amount of body hair.

For the hundredth time Mia hoped this were all a dream, but had become certain it wasn't.

"Uh...do you guys have a phone I could use?" she said. None answered her. One of them broke the silence when it emitted a wild scream, more like a yell or a shriek that chilled her to the bone. As if a cue, the entire barroom rushed her.

They were on her before she could react. Vise-like hands grabbed her arms. She screamed in terror as a dozen strong arms ripped her from the floor. One of them was face to face with her, doing what might have been laughing. Struggling did no good against the iron grips, and they were hurting her wrists and ankles. Mia was terrified. Another of the people pulled the one that was face to face with her away. Her hopes soared. Maybe, she thought, this one was trying to stop her assailants. But then she saw that the newcomer was only trying to get a clear shot. He raised a huge bone above his head. She screamed as he bore down. The blow landed on her forehead. She stopped screaming only because she couldn't scream. The room spun; she felt sick. Upon the second blow all went dark.

Chapter 2

Mia Murphy awoke to a hard mattress. As her circumstance slowly dawned on her, she realized that she wasn't in her own bed. Cold, head pounding, it came to her slowly what had happened, that not only was she not in her own bed, she was also very lost, and lost somewhere very foreign. Sunlight beamed from a small, high window through mildewed damp air into a gloomy place that smelled even worse than the barroom. Dripping water echoed in the distance. The walls of her confinement were thick, black stone that looked slippery from ages of mildew and fungi. A heavy iron door held together with huge rivets with a slot a little lower than eye level forbade her exit. She stood and tried to open it. It wiggled noisily as she shook it, but it refused. She was a prisoner, but why? She didn't do anything to these...people. She walked two steps to the other end of the cell, for a small cell it was, and considered that even if she could reach the window above, she'd never fit. And who knows what's on the other side. She almost yelled to get somebody's attention but stopped short. The only people that she might draw the attention of were the ones that put her here, and she wasn't looking forward to a reunion with them. She sat on the floor with her back against a wall and her knees hugged to her chest, bit one finger and started to cry. She didn't like crying. She squinted her eyes against the unwanted tears, then pried them open a few moments later to experience the tiny flashes of light one gets from eye strain.

No, just one flash of light, but not caused from her eyes being shut. The pinpoint of light flew like a fast firefly, but didn't flash. She ducked as it circled her head a few times. It bee-lined to the lock of the door and flew right inside the keyhole. She heard the rusty lock grind, kind of like chalk on a chalkboard, which always gave her goose bumps. The door swung open with a grating protest. Out from the keyhole flew the light, just a light, nothing substantial, and hovered a foot or so before her face. It then flew through the open doorway and paused a few feet outside in the cell-lined corridor. Several times it flew in front of her face, then again into the hallway. This may be my only chance for an escape, she thought. Her pulse quickened as she realized that the light was trying to get her to follow it out of the prison.

She exited the jail cell to the dimly lit hallway. The little light sped to the stairs and stopped in the blink of an eye. Mia looked about for a guard, then limped to the stairs as well as she could, her legs sore from the beating she'd taken the night before. Up the stairs she went after the light, around a corner to a small wooden door that led to the outside. The light encouraged her to follow.

She stepped into the street, unfamiliar with where she was in relation to where she had been abducted. The little light, visible even in broad daylight, bolted a few tens of yards to the left. Freedom became apparent. Yet she moved cautiously, suspicious of the people-things. She could see down the street in either direction. Nothing. No people-things. The small town seemed deserted. She broke into a limping run and followed the light toward the edge of town.

The light took her out of the town and down a well-trodden path leading over the rolling hills. After a few minutes of running, the soreness in her legs mostly went away. She continued to follow the light at a good jog. Whatever this peculiar light thing was, it seemed to be on her side. It did, after all, aid in her escape. And how much harm could a pinpoint of light do, anyway? Certainly less than the creep who just last night nailed her on the head with a large bone.

After a time she slowed to a fast walk. As they passed a wooded area, the light veered off the path and came to a stop. She followed it to where it hovered and stopped to look at it. The light hung there as if waiting.

"What?" she asked. This is insane, she thought. I'm talking to a flashlight! What is this thing? The light flew in small circles two feet in diameter, then stopped.

"What is it? What do you want me to do?" It flew three more laps, went straight up into the air a few feet, then at full speed, plunged into the thorny bushes beneath it, rustling the dense foliage. She looked for the light, which had disappeared into the thick undergrowth. It was then she noticed the plants.

The bushes the light had dive-bombed were covered with huge scarlet berries unlike any she'd ever seen. They were the size of her two thumbs put together! The light reappeared and came straight up from the bushes. Only then did she realize she was famished. And very, very thirsty.

"Can...can I eat these?" she asked. The light flew up and down in rapid succession as if to say yes, then circled the bushes a few more times. She picked one of the berries and carefully tasted it.

The flavor that burst into her mouth was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. She took a big bite of the berry. The indescribable juice of the berry flowed down her throat (inside and out). A warm, strengthening feeling overcame her, and in a few minutes she'd gobbled down a dozen of them. She could actually feel the weariness leave. She ate her fill, the berries making her fresh and strong, thanked the light and tied the front of her T-shirt into a knot in the form of a pouch, then loaded it with a few handfuls of the berries. The light beckoned her to follow, and off they went down the narrow winding path.

The path led between hills bordering majestic mountains, snow capped and rocky. The pine forests became thicker. Soft meadows of low grasses checkered with many wild flowers blanketed the ground forever. Everything was so green! The occasional brook they passed offered a drink for Mia, though once she gagged as the thought occurred to her that some kind of animal might have peed in the water upstream. But the clear, cool water running over pebbly shallow bottoms tasted okay, not like pee.

Soon dusk made its way across the hills. Mia wondered where she'd spend the night; where she was going; which way was home; what few choices she had; if any of her captors had followed and a hundred other questions that had no answers. The light, whatever it was, was the only friendly thing she'd met so far, so when it made it obvious to her that it wanted her to follow it into a stand of poplars, she followed. There it landed beneath the low boughs of a large, lone pine. She caught on. This is bed tonight. She crawled underneath. The light flew to a nearby branch, landed on it and held still.

"Where am I?" she asked it. Like it could answer. "Whatever you are, can you talk?" Silence. She addressed the tree. "How about you?" She sized up the trunk for an image of a face, but there was not one to be found. Darkness grew in the surrounding meadow. She was very tired and soon fell into a dreamless sleep.

She awakened at she knew not which dark, dark wee hour of the morning. A chill had roused her from what was already a light slumber. She was dry despite the rain she could hear, the broad, thick branches at the base of the immense tree an ample shelter. She sat up, shivering. There sat the light on the same branch. It flew off the branch, circled a pile of twigs and sticks a few feet from where she sat that had not been there before she'd fallen asleep. Within the sticks flew the light, circling and weaving at impossible speed until the dried wood caught fire. The tinder flamed warm, welcome heat. Again Mia thanked the light as she nestled near the fire, extending her hands to absorb the warmth. She stared into the flames as her shivering left, amazed at the feat of the little light, and took up a nearby stick to feed the fire. She poked the stick deep into the flame many times but was unable to get it to ignite. She noticed that the sticks already burning were unconsumed by the flame. She stopped, stick in mid air, considering the unharmed bit of wood. Again she stabbed her stick into the burning twigs. No matter what she did, she was unable to get it to catch fire. She soon gave up.

She didn't know how long she'd sat there before she realized that the rain had stopped. Scant glows of dim light seen through the edge of the low hanging boughs said that dawn was breaking. She crawled out from beneath the tree, stretching as she stood, and breathed in the clean morning air. The light flew past and beckoned Mia to continue in the direction they'd been going. She tiredly followed, working aching muscles. She halted after a few steps, then returned to the tree to reclaim the forgotten berries, and stuffed them into the stained makeshift pouch of her shirt. Satisfied they were secure, she followed the light.

The path wound down into a broad sweeping valley of green fields. She saw a herd of animals grazing, but they were too far away to tell what kind of animals they were. She was thinking that if they were cattle or horses there might be a farm near by with a phone she could use. She picked up her pace. The muddy ground dried as the warming sun rose higher. The humid air was thick and muggy, hazy around the streams and clear for miles. Her pants legs were soaked from walking through knee-high grasses that were still wet from the evening's rain. As she neared the herd animals a fence came in to view, indicating that perhaps a farm might be near. This time, she thought, she'd be more careful about what kind of places she went barging in to. Again she wondered where she was. A sick feeling overcame her. She ate a few of the berries, thinking that they might settle her jittery stomach and that they did, if only a bit.

By noon the light was leading her down a shady lane lined with evenly spaced matching trees. Birds sang in the trees and the green leaves gently rustled with a slight breeze that would've whisked her hair had it not been so dirty. The tree-lined single lane went over a slight hill. Nestled at the end of the lane in a grove of pine trees lay a small cottage. She froze when she spotted it.

A trail of smoke rose from the chimney of the cottage. An old unpainted wooden fence of round, rough posts supporting crooked round rails ran the perimeter of the overgrown yard. The outside of the cottage was of stone cemented in place with mud, but not sloppy like the buildings she'd seen at the village the day before. The roof was shake shingle, peaked in the middle with four flat sides like a pyramid. Two windows graced the front, adorned with burlap curtains, and the door, held up by over-sized rusty hinges, was of thin wood, crooked boards with a piece broken from the bottom. Weeds had grown between the slats of the opened yard gate indicating that it had not been closed for quite some time. As she came upon the cottage, she paused before the bent gate to look and listen. She neither saw nor heard anyone. The light zipped back and forth, encouraging her toward the cottage. Reluctantly she followed. So far the light hadn't misguided her. It had actually helped her, had fed her, had kept her warm and dry, and had even rescued her from that filthy prison and a likely grim fate. She decided to trust in the mysterious entity.

The light stopped short of the door and waited for Mia to catch up. It slammed itself into the wooden boards of the door, full speed, three times in rapid succession, producing loud toks. Without a moment's hesitation, the light flew through the broken section at the bottom of the door. Mia heard the sound of a bolt being unlatched. The door slowly creaked open.

The interior of the cottage smelled okay, not like the barroom she'd visited two evenings before. Odors of smoke from the fire tangled with something cooking lifted her nose as she peered about. A small table, two chairs, something similar to a sofa and a bed, of sorts; a fireplace with lots of books strewn about at random on the mantle; a large black cauldron set over the fire; rough board floors with throw rugs that looked more like the burlap curtains. A veritable plethora of miscellaneous items carelessly thrown into corners and haphazardly stacked along the walls. Rocks and figurines and scrolls and hides. More books stacked on the floor. A few cooking pots and pans hung from the ceiling. But she kept her eyes on the old man squatting at the fireplace as he turned.

He motioned to Mia. "Come on in, young lady! Do come in!" He smiled and pulled the short stem pipe from between his teeth, then brushed his long, gray hair from his weathered face. He did have a certain charm, an honesty that could almost be felt. Mia took a few steps forward, but left the door open just in case. The old man didn't seem to mind. He motioned for her to have a seat, which she did without taking her eyes from him.

"I see you've met my friend Belemeriath." He spoke in a strong slightly cracking baritone voice.

"Bela who?"

"Belemeriath." He pointed to the fireplace mantle where the light had flown. There in its place was a little man about four inches tall, dressed from head to toe in green clothes that looked more like plant leaves than cloth. He wore a hat with a slight round flat top that straddled long, pointed ears. Mia's mouth hung open and her eyes widened. She tried to speak, but nothing came out. Belemeriath waved at her. He was seated cross-legged on the edge of the mantle, arms straight with little hands gripping the edge. Not only was the light really a four-inch tall man, he also had wings!

"A...a...a..." Mia stammered.

"Lesser fairy," Belemeriath said. The little jerk could talk! For the last two days she'd been playing guessing games with him and he'd been faking it! She even asked him if he could talk and he wouldn't answer!

"You can talk!"

"Can't you? Can't everybody?" he asked.

"Why didn't you talk to me in the...the..." Mia's anger gave way to amazement. She was talking to a real fairy! She looked at the old man.

"'Cause Finnegaff wouldn't let me!" Belemeriath rattled off.

"It seems, Belemeriath, that Mia is a bit taken by your handsome looks and gentlemanly charm! You've got a way with the ladies!" The old man winked. Belemeriath beamed.

"How did you know my name?" Mia asked.

"I have ways of knowing such things."

"This is kinda weird. What kind of ways?"

The old man shrugged. "Just ways. It is not wise to ask that now."

"Not wise?"

"Trust me."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Because that would be wise."

"What's your name?"

"I am called Finnegaff." He blew a smoke ring.

"Finnegaff. Hmmm. What's your last name?"

He thought a moment. He went to speak, then thought a moment more. "I've never changed the one I've got. It's always been Finnegaff. Unless, of course, you mean Finnemath. But that was long ago."

"You got a phone around here?" she said

"A what?"

"Duh! A phone! You know, ring, ring: hello!" She held her hand to the side of her head with pinkie on mouth and thumb on ear.

"Phone? No, no, I don't think so."

"Well, maybe you can tell me where I am, then."

"You're in the House of Finnegaff," Belemeriath said.

Mia stared at the little fairy for a moment. "Let's start with the state," Mia said. "What state is this?"

"I believe she means Awlland," Finnegaff said to Belemeriath. "You're in Awlland, west of Sorber Hill."

"No, I mean...state. Like Colorado. Or Florida."

Finnegaff shook his head. "Never heard of them."

Mia jumped to her feet and held her hands palms up, shaking them in disbelief. "What are you smoking in that pipe? You've never heard of Colorado?"

"We need to talk, Miagaff."

"Talk?! Look. I just wanna get out of here and," she puzzled. "What'd you call me?"

He stood. His presence grew with the action, commanding authority. "Your name is Miagaff here. Please sit back down." He pointed with the stem of his pipe to the chair. She sat. He took his seat.

"You are special, Mia. You don't know it yet, but you are. I sent Belemeriath to find you when I heard you arrive and learned that you almost got yourself eaten. It's fortunate that Belemeriath found you during the day. Trolls can't go out into the sunlight. It'll kill 'em. What were you doing in the troll settlement of Broch, anyway?"

"Trolls? They were going to eat me?"

"It's what trolls do best," Belemeriath chided. "Of course, you'd be just an appetizer."

"Belemeriath, that's enough."

"This talking tree told me to go there," she confessed.

"That's Tree! That's Tree!" exclaimed the fairy. He jumped into rapid flight and hovered

inches in front of Mia's face. "Never, ever listen to what Tree says. He..."

"Belemeriath!" Finnegaff said. "Please!" Belemeriath took his place on the mantle. "Tree has been there for hundreds of years. He gets bored and plays practical jokes."

"Practical jokes? I almost got killed!"

"Wow!" Belemeriath said, again taking flight. This time he hovered in front of Finnegaff's face. "Tree never fools anyone! Everyone knows that Tree is a prankster! Why, I'll bet he's gloating even now! Why, I bet..." Finnegaff tried to bat him away, but the fairy easily dodged his flailing.

"Belemeriath! Please let me. This is important." Belemeriath took his seat on the mantle, grinning widely.

Despite how weird it all was, Mia felt strangely safe. "Okay, okay!" Mia stood up. "You're a fairy," she pointed at Belemeriath.

"Lesser fairy," he said.

"Let me guess. You're a wizard, right?" she said. He certainly looked the part.

"Well, yes, but we're getting ahead of ourselves here, I think," Finnegaff said.

Mia again rose to her feet. "I suppose there's dragons and elves, too!"

The old man muttered something. "Well, yes. We'll get to that. Now, please sit down. Tea?" he asked. He took a simple porcelain teapot from the table and poured a bit of steaming tea into a delicate cup. The teapot hadn't been there a moment ago. Or the cup he handed her. "It's very good. I mix it myself."

She took the cup, examined it, and sipped the most perfect tea she'd ever tasted.

"Now, let's see. Where were we? Oh, yes! Dragons!" Finnegaff exclaimed.

"No!" Belemeriath ripped into flight, again in Finnegaff's face. "No! You were gonna tell her about why she's Miagaff and about the dark sorceress and...."

"SIT!" Finnegaff commanded. Belemeriath took his place on the fireplace mantle, stifling a laugh with his hand to his mouth. "Miagaff, you are a very special person. There has been a task assigned you and it's my duty to see you through it."

"What task?" she asked.

Belemeriath took flight to Mia, and this time, he put Finnegaff to his back. "You gotta take the Book of Life to the caretakers in...." Finnegaff didn't miss. He hit the fairy, but not too hard, like a tennis ball, and sent him flying across the room. Mia gasped. He corrected his flight before he hit anything, turned somersaults in mid air and held his hand on his mouth, laughing.

"You're just an imp!" Finnegaff laughed.

"All fairies are imps!" He flew happily about in figure eight's.

"Could you fetch us tarrowroot?" asked Finnegaff. "Our guest could surely use a leaf or two!"

"Oh! Oh! Tarrowroot! Yes, yes I will!" The fairy made a bee-line for the unopened window. He hit the glass with a loud thunk and fell to the sill. Finnegaff picked him up in the palm of his hand.

"Don't eat it all! Bring back some for us!" Finnegaff said.

"Okay! Be right back!" Belemeriath flew this time through the break in the door. He was gone in a flash.

"Tarrowroot is a favorite of the fairies, but they can only have it if a human asks for it first," Finnegaff said. "And the nearest tarrowroot's thirty leagues away!" He laughed at himself.

"Why do they like tarrowroot so much?" Mia asked.

"It has the same effect on them that alcohol does on us."

"Really. I don't know if I want to be here when he gets back."

"It makes him quiet, if you can imagine that. Besides, he'll be gone a while."

"He's out of control."

"He means well. And often does well. And he's one of the few lesser fairies I can tolerate."

"They get worse?"

"Much worse. He's pretty calm compared to most of them." Finnegaff stirred the contents of

the cauldron.

"He was really irritating me."

"You should be thankful. If not for Belemeriath, you'd be troll food in about two hours. I've known Belemeriath a long time. He's a good friend. And a wonderful ally. You'll like him."

"I'll like him? What makes you think I'm down for hanging with you guys? As soon as I find out where I am, I'm outta here!"

"What makes me think that?" He moved his chair closer. His deep blue eyes met hers. He leaned one elbow on a knee and held the pipe like a pencil. "Mia, I'm sorry. You have choices, but they've been made for you." He shook his head. Somehow she knew in her heart that he was right. "You simply have no choice.

"I know you have a lot of questions and I wish I could answer all of them. To some I know the answers but cannot say; others remain a mystery to me, too."

Mia choked back tears. "I want to go home!"

"I know. How you get there and where there is are unknown to me." There was a silence. "But I will tell you what I can."

She wiped her face on her dirty shirt, which only served to spread the dirt.

Finnegaff smiled at her smudged face. "First let's get you cleaned up and get some chow." He turned to the cauldron over the fire. He picked it up and pushed books aside with it when he set it on the table. It steamed with warm water. Finnegaff wet a rag and handed it to her.

"Don't forget to wash behind your ears."

Mia smiled. "My Grandma tells me that."

"And to her you should listen. Here." He reached into a wardrobe and removed a few articles of clothing. "These are for you. The clothes you're wearing are a bit dirty." He set the clothes on the chair on which he'd been sitting. "I'll be outside." And with that, Finnegaff left the room.

The dark green shirt was smock in style; the baggy light brown pants three-quarter length. Her new green socks, better to be called stockings, matched the shirt and tightly fit her calves to the knees. The soft leather boots were simple, and she liked the look. So well fit were they that it felt as if she wore only socks. Indeed everything was comfortable, fitting loosely, the style Mia preferred anyway, though not these garments in particular.

While she bathed and dressed, she thought about Finnegaff's claim to be a wizard. She thought about the tea. There wasn't a teapot or a cup when she arrived. She looked for the teapot, but it wasn't where he had set it. She looked all around, but it was gone. She hadn't hardly taken her eyes from him since the tea was served, hadn't seen him put it away, yet it was gone. A shiver ran down her spine. Maybe she could ask him to do some magic. She looked out the window at Finnegaff. He stood in the long grass and stared at the clouds with his hands clasped behind his back.

She tightened down her belt and called for the wizard. "Okay! I'm done!"

He came back into the little house. Without a single word, he took two bowls from the shelf, reached for a ladle that hung from the ceiling, then dipped into the cauldron of water as he mumbled something Mia couldn't understand. As he dipped, the room filled with the delectable aroma of chicken soup. The ladle brimmed with vegetables floating in a thick, savory broth. Her mouth hung open as her stomach rumbled in anticipation.

"How'd you do that? Wizard magic?"

"Well, yes and no," he said. He had yet to loose his warm smile. "There are two kinds of magic. One magic is for tricksters. Wizardry magic is what we do by employing the Morrahlife Saa."

"Wow!" She shook her head. "It's still magic to me! So, what's this Saa?"

"Saa is the power of Morrah that gives to all. All feel it in some ways, yet some, such as I, can learn to utilize it for, well, certain things. Since this soup is from Morran things, it can be formed. One cannot, say, change weather or make someone love you. Those things are not of Saa."

"Who's Morrah?" she asked.

"Not who, but what!" He paused a moment. "We'll get to that. Soup?" He set the steaming bowl down in front of her.

She regarded the soup in the stone bowl that lay before her. A moment ago it was dirty wash water. And now this old man expected her to eat it.

"It's okay. The water that was there has returned to Morrah. The soup is just that. Soup."

And a fine soup it was indeed! Mia downed two bowls full without speaking a single word. Finnegaff nursed his in between talking.

"As you've heard, you are in the country of Awlland and have a quest before you in which I am involved. You are special, Mia, as you are not from this world." She stopped eating and looked at him. "Yes, this is not the world to which you are native. Here Saa is as much a part of us as air is. It is not cheap magic. Cheap magic is the jester who tricks the eye with sleights of coin and card but doesn't know Saa. If he knew Saa he wouldn't do tricks that way." He smiled.

"To answer your question: I don't know how you got here, and I've never been to your home world. I know the creator chose you, but not why it was you he chose or how he did it, just that you're it. I can't say how you can get to your home world because I don't know how. I can say that, because you are not Morran, you can perform certain tasks vital to our existence that none of us can. Here we all feel Saa to one degree or another, and we're all bound by it. But though you can feel Saa, and you still have Saa in you, you don't feel it like a Morran does. Do you understand, dear Miagaff?"

"Okay. So this place is real. I'm not from here, and because of that, I can do something that no one else can. I can't get home, and I was picked by God to do whatever it is I'm supposed to do, and you know what it is, right?"

"Close enough."

"So what is it I'm supposed to do?"

"I can't say at this time."

"That fairy said something about a book."

"Well, yes he did."

"So, what about this book?"

"I can't say."

"Why?"

"Because, Miagaff, it's too soon."

"My name's not Miagaff. It's Mia."

"Well, yes and no." The old wizard muttered something under his breath. "Mia is, as you put it, your last name."

"No. My last name's Murphy." Mia finished her second bowl of soup. Finnegaff poured her tea from the teapot, which had made a reappearance. "You knew my name before we even met?'

"Oh, yes, indeed! I've known your name for years. You'll soon learn how important it is that you get used to being called Miagaff."

"Both our last names are Gaff. Are we supposed to be related?"

"Well, yes and no." Mia was starting to not like it when he began statements like that. It always ended up being confusing. "Gaff is not a last name. It's a title."

"Like a doctor?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"What does it mean?"

"It's the title given to those of us that have the ability to draw on Saa."

"Like when you changed the wash water to soup!"

"Yes. And the tea. And your clothing. Notice it fits perfectly. That's the kinda stuff Saa does."

"But you said you're a wizard! Isn't that what makes you able to do these things?"

"You're getting it! They're the same thing."

"I'm a wizard?!"

"Well, yes." He mumbled something and lit his pipe. With a flame emitted from his pinkie finger.

She stared at the flame coming from his finger. "So I can catch my fingers on fire. Or change water to soup. Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes, if you knew how. However, it's believed that it's not really changing. It's thought that it's more like subtracting one thing and adding another." He puffed on his pipe. The smell of it was sweet and harsh at the same time.

"I can't do that!"

He smiled, holding a forefinger in the air. "Ah! But you can!"

"And you're going to show me how?"

"No, no. That's not my task."

"What am I supposed to do? Guess?"

"I have an old and dear friend that has the gift of teaching. She will show you."

"What's her name?"

"Marigaff. She's not far from here."

This can't be for real! I'm a wizard! She was anxious to try. She began to look around for something on which to attempt the magic.

"You gotta know Saa before you can do anything with your gift. Marigaff will show you." He looked at her intensely. "Patience is required of us, dear Miagaff."

"Okay. Okay." Her head swam with all this new information. Change the subject. "So tell me. How is it you speak English?"

Again he raised a finger to the air. "Ah! This I know! I'm not speaking English. You're speaking the universal language of Awlland, New Elven."

"Elven? Does that mean there's elves here?"

"Yes. And dwarfs, trolls, as you've seen, Centaurs, Mantids, sylphs, dragons, and a host of other intelligent races."

"Dragons? Like fire breathing, flying lizards?"

"Yes, but don't call them lizards. It insults them. You don't want to upset a dragon."

"Cool! I wanna see a dragon sometime!"

"Yes. Well, perhaps you shall."

They talked for quite some time, until late in the evening. Mia was beyond tired. "Where's Belemeriath?" she asked.

"Either he got sidetracked or is too intoxicated to fly. Likely both."

"So what happens now?"

"We get some rest. We're outa here at first light."

"To go to this farm." Mia yawned and stretched out on the cot Finnegaff had set up. "Maybe they know how I can get home."

"Well, yes. Marigaff does."

"She does?!" Mia bolted upright. "Why didn't you tell me that? She can show me the way home when we get there!"

"Well yes and no." Finnegaff blew out one of two candles. "She can show you, but it won't work. Not yet, anyway."

"What do you mean, it won't work yet?"

"You'll have to ask Marigaff that." The old wizard blew out the second candle

Chapter 3

The castle the Dark Sorceress Eringaff claimed as her own was designed by the Elves of Old many hundreds of years before. Highly skilled dwarfs took decades to chisel, carve, and otherwise dig the immense structure right into the black stone of Rock Island's northernmost mountain. Eringaff sat upon the twelve-foot tall throne in the center of the Great Hall of Rulers, but one of many, many rooms of the castle. Dull-black stone gargoyles, almost invisible against the walls, stood guard high above on shelves of stone.

With her left hand she held her wizard's staff, the dreaded Maraska Pon Durk. So black was the staff that it seemed to absorb the very light about it, and indeed it did, for it was made of a rare wood from Korr, a land that no living being had ever dared enter. A grotesque human head with empty, vacuous eye sockets was carved into the uppermost end of the staff, and if one looked closely, a pinpoint of crimson light could be seen deep within. The twisted, gaping mouth held captive a shiny red snake in the place where there might have been a tongue. Only part of the live snake was exposed, the rest of the enslaved animal forever encased in the wood of the staff, seized by the evil magic of Essaa. It was, in fact, the rare and feared deathred viper. And, as everyone knows, so venomous is the deathred viper that no one has ever survived its lethal bite for more than a single minute. The dark sorceress held Maraska Pon Durk butt down, the head inclined forward.

The creature on the floor was her general, General Mordak, first of her army. He was half man, half dog: a darkhound. Over his left breast, a horizontal sword under three black diamonds denoted his rank of general. He tucked his tail in submission as she spoke. His clawed, near-human hands gripped a barbed spear.

Eringaff rose and took several steps toward the general with the smooth motion and grace of a choreographed dance, for the dark sorceress' exaggerated mannerisms were indeed intentional and rehearsed. The wide sleeves of her floor-length deep-purple dress flowed almost as if they were wings. Her manner might have been charming and elegant, and she might even have been a beautiful woman, had she a different life style.

Her long, thick, well-brushed blue-black hair framed maddened eyes. "YOU! MORDAK!" She pointed a long, thin finger. "The Book of Life is soon to be Carried. Get it and BRING IT TO ME! Where are your advisors?"

"They await outside the Great Hall, your highness." He looked at her when he spoke. To do otherwise would have been folly.

"Advisors enter!" she commanded. The tall, iron studded hall doors opened silently. Three darkhounds marched into the hall and took formation behind their general. They dropped to the floor and lay prone upon the cold, black stone.

"ARISE!" They immediately stood. Eringaff raised her staff. "Essaa! Perecta mocto du roct Feregaire! Anso forelless roah narren!" (Darkhounds before me except the General! Be changed into snakes!) She paused but for a second; the silence was deafening. She then tapped the butt of the staff upon the floor. The hollow wooden click echoed through her chamber. The darkhounds startled. The tap might as well have been a cannon going off, for they knew what it meant even if they did not understand the dark sorceress' invocation. Immediately the three advisors shimmered and shrunk as their physical shapes shifted into three six-foot long venomous snakes. General Mordak glanced at the snakes to his left and to his right, then to his hands to verify that he, too, had not been turned into a serpent. As he glanced at his hand, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Only his quick reflexes saved him from being bitten by the snake to his left. With a dog-like yip, he jumped back and away from the angry reptile.

Eringaff broke into a wild laugh. She arched her spine and threw her head back, then jerked her eyes back to the General. She did not want to miss any of the entertainment.

The snake to the right of Mordak lunged for his leg, but the darkhound was ready. He dipped the tip of his spear to the snake and lifted it from the ground and tossed it some distance. As he did so, the other two snakes lunged at him. He tossed them out of the way as well.

Eringaff roared with laughter. The general stood at attention, nervously glancing at the snakes.

The dark sorceress' laughter suddenly ceased. Her flaming eyes locked on Mordak as she spat through her teeth. "Do I make myself clear, general?"

"Yes, great queen. You shall have the Book of Life."

She pointed her staff at Mordak, lowered her head and aimed down its length. "I SHALL HAVE THE BOOK OF LIFE OR I SHALL CHANGE YOUR WORTHLESS CARCASS INTO A RAT AND FEED IT TO YOUR UNDERLINGS!" The deathred viper hissed loudly and went wild, snapping but inches from his face, venom dripping from its fangs. She withdrew the staff. "You will need new advisors." She motioned to the snakes. "Now remove these from my sight!"

Chapter 4

Mia awoke to the sound of horses and the dawning light of a brisk spring morning pouring through the window. A rooster crowed somewhere. Many birds sang their happy calls, sparking her attention. She sat up on the cot and looked around the cottage. The events of the previous night ran through her head like the memory of a story, fast and complete. Oh, yeah. I'm in Awlland, and I'm a wizard. And I don't know where Awlland is.

Looking through the condensed water droplets on the window, she saw two horses. Finnegaff was there, too, placing items into leather saddlebags. She stood up and pulled her hairbrush through her tangled hair. She looked at the brush, now a treasure as much as a necessity. The only item I have from home, she thought. She walked to the open doorway and had been standing there for but a moment when something fast flew right in front of her face.

"Great day! Great day!" It was the fairy Belemeriath. "How's our little blissflower this morning, hmmmm?" he said. He easily dodged her swats.

She squinted. "Go away!"

Belemeriath laughed at her. "Let me show you what we're doing! Finnegaff is loading the horses. I'm in charge of cooking supplies!" His chest puffed out. "See?" He flew toward the nearest of the horses and stationed over the saddlebag. It was neatly packed with pots, pans and packages.

"Whatever, fairy," she said. Belemeriath flew over to Finnegaff.

"Finnegaff! She's up! Let's go! Let's go!" His voice dropped to a whisper. "She sure is pretty!"

"Yes. Yes, I suppose. We'll leave soon, my friend. Great day, Miagaff," he said to Mia.

"What's so great about it?" she mumbled, taking a few steps outside. "Where's the

bathroom?"

"I'll show you!" Belemeriath said in mid flight. He headed toward the rear of the cottage.

"No you won't! I'll find it myself." She stumbled around the side of the cottage, looking back to make sure the fairy didn't try to follow.

"You'd better not provoke her, little friend. She is a wizard, after all!"

"Oh, she likes me! I can tell! Did you see the way she looked at me?"

"Yes, I did." He smiled.

Mia staggered from behind the cottage. She stood next to the saddlebag of the horse Finnegaff was putting the finishing touches on.

"So where's this Ellengaff's farm?" she asked.

"Marigaff! Marigaff!" Belemeriath said before the last words left her mouth. He hovered a foot from her nose.

"Fairy!" She batted at him again, which didn't seem to bother him. He must be used to it, she thought, as irritating as he is. He probably irritates everybody.

"Some two day's ride to the east," Finnegaff said. "That way." He pointed into the rising sun.

"Great!" she huffed. "Two more days with freakin' Tinker Bell."

"Oh, more than that," Belemeriath said. "We're in luck! Finnegaff wants me to be with you for a long, long time!"

Mia's jaw dropped as she stared at Finnegaff.

"I asked you to make yourself available in case Miagaff needs you," Finnegaff said.

"Same thing! Same thing! Close your mouth, Miagaff. Flies will get in!" Finnegaff was laughing softly. Mia clenched her fists at her sides.

"No, it's not the same!" Mia said. She closed her mouth and clenched her teeth. "I'll do fine on my own."

"You'da already been troll food by now if not for me!" Belemeriath thumbed his puffed out chest and smiled with closed eyes.

"Miagaff," Finnegaff started, "Belemeriath is a loyal and very good ally. He'll prove his worth many times over. He, too, knows Saa."

"He's a wizard? No! No way!"

"No, but he has fairy magic. He has Saa in ways you and I never will." That warm, Mia-winning smile became Finnegaff. Mia again noticed the mysterious overwhelming grandfatherly trust for the old wizard that frequently washed over her. The feeling was soothing in a most peculiar manner, much as a warm shower comforts a chill. And to this day she doesn't know if the feeling came from Saa or Finnegaff or herself. Nor did she ever forget that moment.

They led their horses for a while. Mia had only been on horseback a few times in her life, so her ability as a rider was clumsy. Finnegaff reminded her that Marigaff was her teacher, not him, that soon they'd be at Marigaff's farm, and there was where she would learn to ride. In the mean time she could walk if she so desired. An hour of riding can make an inexperienced rider sore and quite uncomfortable, so walking soon became the choice. She walked beside Finnegaff's horse, Grinnolle. Belemeriath was perched between the horse's ears.

"What's the date?" she asked Finnegaff.

"It is the third of Ros, 3199. Early spring."

"3199? That's way in the future!"

"Recall that time passes differently here than it does where you come from."

"I don't get it. I mean, an hour here is an hour there, right? An hour's an hour no matter what, right?"

"I can't say how it works. I can say that it's not the same."

"So what is it I'm supposed to do? Will you tell me now?"

"When we get to Marigaff's Farm I will tell you what you need to know."

"Why not now?"

"It's not safe. The farm is shielded. It can't be breached by any Saa or Essaa Marigaff doesn't permit."

"So she's in charge of the shield?"

He shrugged. "Well, yeah! It's her shield."

"So what kind of magic am I going to learn there?"

Belemeriath flew from Grinnolle to Mia. "It's the magic of Saa! The magic of Saa!" he corrected.

"Okay, what ever...Saa. Cool it, fairy!" She batted at Belemeriath. "What kind of Saa am I going to learn there?"

"No! No!" Belemeriath, still in flight, slowly circled Mia's head just out of batting range, which he needed not to be, as he could carry on a conversation while evading her strikes with exceeding ease. He never took his eyes from her. "It's 'what am I going to learn to do with Saa.'"

Mia glared at him, but decided that shutting him up was impossible. She believed that the constant chatter was the most irritating part about Belemeriath. "Okay, then! What am I going to learn to do with Saa at Marigaff's Farm?"

"I can't answer that," Finnegaff said.

"You can't? You mean you know the answer and won't answer or you don't know the answer?"

Finnegaff shrugged. "I suppose maybe you'll learn how to feel Saa first, then move things or light fires."

"Like Belemeriath did?" Mia said.

"On the way to your cottage I started a fire to keep Miagaff warm at night," Belemeriath said.

"No, no. That was fairy fire. It has flame and light and heat yet it doesn't use up any fuel. We, as wizards, cannot make fairy fire."

"Only fairies! Only fairies!" Belemeriath said.

"Hey!" Mia addressed Belemeriath. "Why didn't you talk to me on the way here?"

"Finnegaff wouldn't let me," he said with a pitiful look of rejection. "He made me stay in light form."

Mia regarded that for a moment. "What else will I get to do?" she asked. "At Marigaff's Farm, I mean."

"I've probably told you too much already," Finnegaff said.

"You should tell her! You should tell her!" Belemeriath spoke fast. "You know you want to. You're always telling people too much, anyway. So you might as well. Why, he once told the dragon Cwyth that a herd of sheep escaped from Royel Sorber's place."

"Belemeriath, you don't have to..."

"They never found them. Not a one! You know where they went? I'll tell you! Dragon food, that's where they went! Dragons love mutton!"

Finnegaff looked to the sky. "We all make mistakes."

"Marigaff didn't talk to you for 250 years, remember?" Belemeriath said.

"That was over something else."

"250 years? How old are you?" asked Mia.

"Well, you know it's not proper for a wizard to reveal his..." Finnegaff said.

Belemeriath interrupted. "Three thousand, two hundred and thirty five!"

"Belemeriath!"

"He used to be married to Marigaff, you know. But one day he..."

Finnegaff pointed his staff, Lebethtro Larra, at Belemeriath. He spoke in a commanding voice. "Anso Lebethta! Munck!"(Be quiet! Down!) He pointed the staff at the saddlebag.

The fairy's eyes bugged out. He clasped a hand over his mouth and dropped from the air right into the saddlebag. Mia gaped, yet not in amazement of the magic of Saa. In her mind she had felt that something was going to happen to Belemeriath before it did.

"What'd you do to him?"

"I used Saa to quiet him for a while. It won't last long. He'll figure out how to escape the spell."

"So you were married to Marigaff?" Mia said.

"Never mind." He paused. "Well, yes, a long time ago."

"And you're more than three thousand years old?!"

"Well, yes. Give or take a decade or two. I'm really not sure." He stroked his beard.

"You know what? I just had the funniest thing happen. When you did what you did to Belemeriath, I felt something. Like a warm, kinda tingly feeling that went from my chest to my head really fast! And it was right before it happened. It was like," Mia sought the right word, "a feeling, you know?"

Finnegaff looked at her, half smiled and nodded. "Well, yes," he said. "I do know."

Their journey continued along the foothills of the distant towering mountains. The warm, clear air smelled sweet as they made their way through the ankle-deep grasses of the hilly plain.Trees were still sparse, a grove here, a stand there, but Mia could see the beginning of a great forest that overcame the mountains, save the snow-capped timberline. And everything was so green! In Colorado the countrysides were typically at least half brown. But that was not the case in Awlland.

An occasional farm house came into view. The plowed fields that belonged to them quilted the rolling landscape. Soon the path turned to road. At least what Mia assumed an Awllander might call a road: two parallel packed dirt paths with plants growing in the middle of ruts caused by wagons which had been stuck during the rainy season.

Belemeriath had escaped Finnegaff's invocation (as Mia had learned to call it) as predicted. He was back to his annoying self almost immediately. Most of the time he was contented to simply ride on Finnegaff's horse, kicked back between Grinnolle' ears. The lively fairy took joy in even the smallest of things: a shape in a cloud, chasing a passing butterfly, retrieving a motherberry for Mia from some unseen place off the trail. And he would enjoy these pleasantries with constant narration. Mia found that, should there be lulls in the conversation, Belemeriath could be quite creative at finding something to talk about, and was most certain to do so. Yet he never complained; nothing seeming to bother him. Fortunately for Finnegaff, he'd forgotten the conversation that resulted in him being subdued for a time. Or, Mia thought, maybe the little imp learned something. Probably not.

By nightfall they'd arrived at the foot of one of the great mountains where the cool wind blowing downhill had the smell of a snow covered pine forest. Mia donned her coat and chose to ride her horse for a while. They stopped to make camp on the leeward side of a sheer rock cliff, part way up a slight hill. A stream ran nearby, giving them a means to water the horses. They loosed them to graze. Finnegaff ensured the concerned Mia that they would not stray. He made a small fire as Belemeriath broke out the cooking supplies. Despite his meager four inches in height, he could air lift heavy cast iron skillets or sizable pots with relative ease. Mia did like the fact that the fairy was always happy to do whatever, more than willing to help with any chore. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all, as long as he stayed out of her face.

Dusk came quickly over a meal of cheese, bread and some kind of meat stew. Mia, cold from the drop in temperature with the coming of evening, welcomed dinner. She stabbed a chunk of the stew from her bowl and examined the odd-looking mystery meat. The thought occurred to her that she might not eat it if she knew from what animal it was taken. She thought it wiser to not ask, for she was very hungry.

As dark was heavy upon them, Finnegaff gave Mia her bedroll and made it her charge. He explained how to check the blankets for bugs before packing it. He also announced that he was standing watch during the night hours and that he had something to do. Belemeriath twinkled into the pinpoint of light, the form in which Mia had first encountered him. He darted out into the forest to who-knows-where fairies go for the night.

When Mia awakened, the fire had burnt to embers, giving little warmth for an Awlland early morning. The cool mountain air misted the breath. The sky was red everywhere as the filtered crimson light beamed through the towering pine forest. Dew covered everything. She heard a horse's hoof fall nearby; downhill babbled the tiny, hidden brook. Her hip ached from a rock solidly lodged in the ground underneath her bedroll that she had battled all night. She wanted to stand in order to get out of the uncomfortable position, but it was cold outside of the bedroll. Soon she found the courage and in one quick move, jumped from her sanctuary. She walked around the nearly gone fire in hopes of finding a warm spot. It was then she noticed Finnegaff was nowhere to be seen. The dose of adrenaline warmed her against the cold and woke her up in an instant.

"Finnegaff?" she said in a mid range voice. She listened hard for a reply. Perhaps, she thought, he was getting the horses or going to the bathroom or something. A few seconds passed. Nothing. "Finnegaff?" This time she called his name louder. She scanned the area surrounding the campsite. Still no Finnegaff. She peered through the bushes to where the horses were last night. They were still there. But there was no Finnegaff.

"FINNEGAFF!" she yelled. "BELEMERIATH!" She ran to the other side of the clearing and a short distance into the woods. She peered between the trees, looking for movement. Nothing. She recalled he'd said he had something to do; it hadn't occurred to her that that something might have meant leaving her alone.

"FINNEGAFF!" She went back to the camp and checked the horses a second time. Both horses were there. Finnegaff wasn't. If the fairy was near by, she thought, she'd know it by now. He can't keep quiet.

She happened to look at a very green, leafy, thin tree that she didn't remember being there the night before. She recalled her encounter with Tree and looked for a face in the bark design of the trunk. She didn't expect to actually be able to make out facial features so quickly, much less those unmistakably to be Finnegaff. Wide eyed, she walked to the tree and addressed it.

"Finnegaff? Are you in there?" No response. She touched the bark to the side of the warm, smiling likening of the face of Finnegaff. "FINNEGAFF!!" she yelled. A tingling sensation, almost like an electrical shock, jolted her as if her voice had passed right through her arm to her hand and in to the tree. The tree began to shimmer.

At first it shook slightly, then began to tremble as if in an earthquake, leaves rustling. Finnegaff, or the tree likeness of Finnegaff, opened his eyes. Mia jumped back in alarm. The tree branches retracted into the tree's torso. The trunk extended a neck below the face as the bottom portion split, ground up, into legs. Not much more than several seconds had passed when Finnegaff himself was standing in front of Mia.

"Miagaff, dear." Finnegaff steadied himself. "I don't mind if you wake me, but there's no need to shout."

"What was that?" she said.

"What? Oh, that!" He smiled. "I didn't tell you about that, did I?"

"No, you didn't! I thought you ditched out on me! What happened?"

"Oh, well, I'm part sylph," he said.

"Don't ever do that again!"

"Do what?"

"Go changing into a tree or something without telling me!"

Finnegaff shrugged. "I did tell you."

"No. Not really." She paused. "You could at least apologize."

"Well, yes. I suppose I could."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to apologize?"

"For what?" Finnegaff sounded sincere.

"For," Mia sighed. "Never mind. Okay. What's a sylph?"

He gave her a peculiar look. "A sylph is a race of Morrah that's part tree, part human. Mostly they're deep green in color and short. They eat like you and I, except that they require soil and light for survival. Soil. Yes. Well, though we need to eat frequently, we only need soil once every few months. It was time for me."

"So you're telling me that you're half tree."

"Well, no. Sylph. My mother is a sylph."

"Is a sylph? Your mother is still alive?" She thought about what she had implied only after she blurted it out. But Finnegaff was a sorcerer, and answered her accordingly.

"Isn't yours?" He smiled the same warm and accepting smile Mia saw when he was a tree. Or Finnegaff. Or Finnegaff when he was a tree. "Sylphs are immortals. Many races are."

"I wish I was immortal. That must be cool!"

"You may be. You just may be."

"I might be an immortal?! How do you know?"

"I don't. It's just that you're still alive." Had he not that look, she would have thought it a joke. "Now! I must ask someone of a certain matter. I thought I heard something." He walked to a nearby tree and gently placed the back of his hand on its trunk. In a moment his ever-present smile was complimented by a slight chuckle. He removed his hand and bowed to the tree.

"We gotta leave. There's darkhounds in the area." He began gathering items from about their small camp.

"Darkhounds?" she asked.

"The soldiers of the dark sorceress. No doubt they know you're here."

"Yeah. I know what they are. Why would they know I'm here?" She threw her hand to her chest. "Are they after me or something?"

"Well, yes and no." She didn't like his answer already. "You see, it is what you're charged with, what you carry that they want."

"I'm not carrying anything," she pointed out.

"Not yet. But you will."

"What am I supposed to carry?"

"Be patient. A good wizard knows when to be patient." He lit his pipe, this time with his thumb.

They packed their belongings quickly and in moments were ready to ride. Finnegaff insisted that they trot the horses for a while despite Mia's desire to walk, her bottom still sore from the previous day's ride. She had trouble staying on a trotting horse at first, but after a short time it became easier.

Finnegaff explained about the talk he had with the tree. "Sylphs can talk to trees," he said. "Since trees are bound to Morrah, they can visit among themselves. They often know things we don't. When I was in sylph form, I thought I'd heard of darkhounds being around. However, while in sylph form I can't be certain, since I don't spend a lot of time as a tree. So I asked a tree I know I can trust. And always trust birch," he said, pointing a finger at Mia. "Never oak. The birch confirmed my suspicions: darkhounds, about six of them, some leagues to the north. Fortunately, we're not down wind."

"Down wind?" Mia asked. "They can smell us?"

"Well, yeah! They are dogs, after all."

"What would happen if they found us?"

"A small band of darkhounds I could handle, but they'd know exactly where we are. It'd be best to not be seen."

An hour passed before Mia realized that Belemeriath was not with them.

"Finnegaff! We forgot Belemeriath!"

"No we didn't. Believe me, we didn't." Less than half a second of humming bird wing sound warned her.

"Here I am!" he yelled in his little fairy voice as he sped toward them. "Great morning, dear Miagaff!" Belemeriath flew to within two inches of her face. She startled and had to grab for the saddle horn to keep her mount.

"Stupid fairy! You almost knocked me off my horse!" She swatted through empty air a few times, but he was long gone. But not if you were Finnegaff.

"Marigaff's Farm! Dead ahead five leagues!" he said in Finnegaff's face. Finnegaff winced.

"What is that on your breath, Belemeriath? Or need I ask?" Finnegaff fanned the air.

Belemeriath turned red. "We, uh, my cousins..."

"That would be about four hundred of you."

Belemeriath put a hand to his chin and peered upward in thought. "Yes!" He nodded in agreement. "They live in these woods," he said to Mia, "these woods, right here. Kesteremiath was graced a quantity of tarrowroot, and, well...."

"Kesteremiath is the King of the lesser fairies." Finnegaff bowed his head and looked upward at Mia.

"And my cousin!" puffed Belemeriath. "We had a, ah, reunion! That's it! Reunion!"

"Belemeriath, you are so a liar!" Mia laughed and beamed at the embarrassed little fairy.

"No! No!" He was in Mia's face now. This time she did not dodge him, nor did she try to bat him away. Finnegaff was right. Tarrowroot stunk! "He really is my cousin!"

"But there was no reunion." She smiled, both hands in her horse's mane, arms straight as she leaned forward, nose inches from the fairy.

"Well, yes and no," Belemeriath said, looking at Finnegaff.

"That's my saying, Belemeriath. It sounds better when I do it." Finnegaff laughed at his little friend. "I doubt it'll help you worm your way out of this one!" Belemeriath ate up the attention, especially the positive attention from Mia.

They rode through the foothills for a while, then turned north onto the green hills of the plains, vast flowing folds of soft carpet that made waves as gentle breezes swept the knee-deep grasses. They crested a long, gradual hill, where Mia could see beyond for a great distance. Far off lay a series of dots, buildings that noted a small settlement.

"Is that a town?" Mia asked

"It's Marigaff's Farm, is what it is," Belemeriath volunteered.

"That's a big farm," she said.

"It's called a farm because that's what it used to be," Finnegaff said. "They still grow stuff, but it's for their own use. Marigaff's Farm is where novice wizards go to learn to use Saa."

"Right. That's where I'm going. To learn to use Saa," Mia said.

"Well, yes and no," Finnegaff said. "Yes, you are going there to learn Saa methods, but you'll learn other things as well."

"What kind of other things?" she asked.

"Patience, dear. Wizards are patient." He smiled as he lit his pipe with a stick he had been toying with that he picked from a tree. It occurred to her that they had not seen any darkhounds, as Finnegaff feared they might, which was fine with her.

Marigaff's Farm was the most charming, enchanting place Mia had ever seen. They approached the farmhouse at the end of the straight tree-lined lane, encountering people in the fields next to the road working on various things. One man was plowing a field with an ox pulling an old-fashioned plow. A woman, no, a young girl, sat on a log beneath a large shade tree and was watching a small flock of sheep-like animals that were mixed with a few goat-like animals. She could just barely hear the girl sing a slow, sweet melody to her flock. Another man was mending the fence on the other side of the trees.

The split-rail fence took a break at a gated archway thick with sweet smelling wisteria growing strong in the humid air, warmed by a cloudless sunny mid afternoon, creating a welcome feeling at the entrance to the yard of Marigaff's Farm. The grass surrounding the large, log cabin home was neatly trimmed, bordered with many kinds of brightly flowering plants. A few busy birdbaths dotted the grounds. Here was a wishing well, there a bench or a picnic table. Two massive weeping willows were situated to left and right centers of the grand yard. A few people scattered about were going on with their duties.

The house itself was long. A covered raw wooden porch ran its length. The single level structure was built to keep the entire population of the farm, as Marigaff believed in community. The transitional part of the house, that section which divided the house from the dormitory, was a large hall, evidently a dining room that doubled as a social gathering area. They must have parties and dances there. She hoped so.

The stables were located to the left of the great house and angled perpendicular to the long main building. Though some distance from the house, Mia could smell the horses, the stables being upwind. There were many split-rail fenced stalls, dozens in a neat row, the Dutch doors on some of the stalls opened at the top. A variety of horses and many cattle dotted the pasture behind the building. A forest bordered the fence far to the south.

An elderly lady sat in a white wicker rocking chair on the covered boardwalk porch near the dining hall working on a knitting project. Her snow white shawl was draped over a modest full length purple dress, striped with dark purple to light purple stripes. The colors faded together where the purples met, making Mia unsure exactly where one color left off and the other color began. She was barefoot, her legs extended with her feet crossed. Her long, thick hair was well kept and was as gray as Finnegaff's. This, she thought, has to be Marigaff. She thought about them being married. They would look cute together.

A blond boy about thirteen had been walking toward them from the stables. He came to Marigaff's side.

"Theramon, child," she said to the boy. She took his hand. "Take Finnegaff and Miagaff's horses and care for them as you would your own." They dismounted. Theramon took the reins of the horses and pet the jowls of each one. He led them toward the stables, yet had a little trouble keeping his eyes from Mia.

"Great day, most loved Finnegaff," Marigaff said.

"Great day, most loved Marigaff!" His left hand clutched his robe over his heart, his back rigid. "You look well!"

"Of course I do! I'm a wizard. It's got its benefits, you know." They laughed softly together and exchanged warm, genuine smiles. Hardly the behavior Mia would have expected from a divorced couple! The moment lasted precious seconds.

"Miagaff! A pleasure to meet you!" She nodded to Mia.

"Oh, okay. Good to meet you, too, Marigaff!" Mia extended her hand in friendship. When Marigaff moved only her eyes to look to Mia's outstretched hand then back to Mia, it was as if the small movement was big.

"We don't do that here, child." Marigaff smiled. "We say 'great day' instead."

"Sure." Mia withdrew her hand. "Great day, Marigaff. Hey, how'd you know my name?" Marigaff probably knew her last name, too.

Marigaff ignored Mia's question with a tiny inoffensive smile. She stood and set aside her knitting on the small table beside her rocker. She didn't look at either of them. "This way, please!" She took up her walking stick, her back straight with confidence. With nose in the air, she strode into the large dining hall. Mia followed her inside. Finnegaff stood outside, looking at the clouds. He looked to the clouds on frequent occasion. He said the clouds could tell him things that even the trees could not. Marigaff poked her head out the doorway and looked right at Finnegaff. "You too, sorcerer!" He snapped out of his daze with a slight bounce and obliged Marigaff's somewhat more than a request tone.

Huge pine logs ran the width of the ceiling of the hall. Windows lined the front of the hall as they did the back, a double door at the center of each. Everything was pine, even the boarded floor. It was very, very clean. There were a few people here and there, playing some kind of board game, reading, mopping the floor, carrying firewood. None paid them much notice except for one of the young girls involved in the board game. Marigaff nodded to her when she looked up. The girl sprung from her seat and came to them with a spry step.

"Mia, this is Aaramerielle. Aaramerielle, child, show Mia to her room. Be back here in half an hour."

"Yes, Marigaff." She gave an informal yet polite curtsy. Mia guessed the tall, bubbly Aaramerielle to be maybe fourteen years old. Her less than ninety pounds thinned her adult height so that it brought to mind the term 'skinny'.

Marigaff's selection of Aaramerielle to room with Mia was no coincidence. Aaramerielle loved to talk. She was exceptional at following rules. She loved to teach and in fact did so to some of the younger children. Marigaff knew that within half an hour Aaramerielle would teach Mia more about what was expected of her at the Farm than Marigaff could in a day.

"This way," she said to Mia, fluttering a hand in the air in no particular direction. She led Mia out the back door. Marigaff and Finnegaff watched them go.

"It's been a time, dear Marigaff." Finnegaff said.

"Yes, it has. It has. I have missed you so also." She returned his soft look. "So how is she?"

Finnegaff leveled his gaze. "I have my concerns."

Chapter 5

"And this is where you sleep," Aaramerielle said. "I sleep over there. And we share this closet." The dorm room was the size of a large bedroom with only two beds. Mia felt like she was in summer camp.

"So you're my roommate. Great!" Mia said. Aaramerielle stopped and looked at her.

"We're all here to learn Saa," she said, looking at Mia from across the room. She seated herself on one of the blue covered easy chairs. "Wizards don't talk that way to others, especially not to other wizards. Don't do it again!" It came across to Mia more as valuable information rather than a reprimand. She couldn't take it hard coming from Aaramerielle as it did, even though she badly wanted to. Aaramerielle had the rare talent to be able to speak to others in such a manner without appearing harsh or humiliating. She continued.

"We make our beds every morning before breakfast and we all have jobs. I work in the kitchen and teach the five and six year olds. But I don't know what you'll be doing. We have classes two times, sometimes three times a day."

"Classes?!" Mia said, plopping down sideways on the other easy chair. "Oh, man!"

"Yes, classes." Again Aaramerielle looked at her. That way. Mia then realized that this particular trait in Aaramerielle's personality was typical of her. Mia expected more reprimand, but Aaramerielle went on.

"Marigaff is the sweetest sorceress you'll ever meet. She knows a lot, and it is not wise to question her authority. But you probably already know that.

"So, anyway, study time is afternoons, after lunch. It's really not study time, though. You can do pretty much whatever you want. I like to run. I go down by the river to the end of the pasture."

Someone who loves to run! Mia had been in cross-country as soon as she was old enough to join. She had loved athletics for as long as she could remember, focusing mostly on her passion for long distance running, especially with a partner. She felt chance that this might be the very beginning of an alliance with Aaramerielle, the feeling that one gets when one first realizes an acquaintance might cross the well-guarded boundary separating all other people from real friends. Mia resisted the rapid drawing bond to Aaramerielle. Maybe not friends yet. Or maybe friends. She would wait and see. "How far is that?" Mia said, now sitting on the edge of her chair.

"About three miles, one way."

"I love to run! Can I go with you next time?"

"Sure! Can you run that far?"

"Much farther. I used to do ten miles every day."

Aaramerielle was the only one at Marigaff's farm that had a passion for distance running, and had longed for someone to share it with. "Let's go ask Marigaff if we can go now!" she said.

"Maybe in a little bit. I just got here, and I don't know. It's all so new and everything."

"It's just like any other school in Awlland. Just for wizards. You know that. Everyone knows about Marigaff's Farm!"

"Well, I don't, " Mia said.

"You've never heard of Marigaff's Farm?"

"Well, no! I'm not from here. This world, I mean. It's hard to explain..."

Aaramerielle gasped. Her hand shot to her mouth, eyes wide as it came to her who Mia was.

"You're the Carrier of the Book of Life!" she said. She slid to the edge of her chair as she lowered her hand.

"I know I have to carry something somewhere."

"WOW! This is sooooo cool!"

"What is the big deal?" Mia asked.

"You, dear Mia, are one powerful wizard. And a very important one!"

"So I've heard. Finnegaff told me that much."

"Finnegaff said that?! Woah!"

"So tell me more!"

"More what?"

"You know. Like, what's this Book of Life, and how do I make soup with Saa. Things like that!"

Aaramerielle regained her composure and placed the palms of her hands on her knees. "Miagaff, I would love to. But it's part of your training. Everyone knows that."

"Everyone knows what?"

"That your training must come through Marigaff."

Bummer, she thought. I won't get anything out of her.

"Oh, don't be that way!"

Did she just read my mind? It wouldn't surprise me, Mia thought, if she could. Or maybe she read my actions.

"Let's go. Marigaff expects us. This is so cool!" Aaramerielle bound for the door, Mia in tow.

Marigaff and Finnegaff observed as Aaramerielle and Mia entered the hall. Aaramerielle bounced as she talked with Mia, who held her own in the conversation. Aaramerielle gestured with her arms. Mia smiled, nodded her head and volleyed words with her new roommate.

"So," Finnegaff said, "I see your fledgling found out who Miagaff is!"

"Evidently!" Marigaff said. "That didn't take long!" It was a moment that Marigaff had always cherished: seeing her student's faces as they learned that the Carrier of the Book of Life had taken residence in their school. The two girls approached the wizards.

"Great day, honorable wizards!" Aaramerielle said. She curtsied once to Finnegaff, then to Marigaff, then skipped away to return to the game she'd been playing with her peers. In seconds the other three children involved in the game were looking in their direction. They knew better than to outwardly stare. Unless they wanted extra kitchen duties for being rude.

"I'm off!" Finnegaff said as he stood. "I shall honor the tradition of...uh, the coming of the Carrier to Marigaff's Farm...yes... with friends. Tomorrow I've got to tend to council issues!"

Marigaff called to him as he walked to the door. "Give my regards to our fellow council members, good wizard."

He stopped in his tracks, then turned to face her. "Give them yourself." He tipped his hat and walked away. Marigaff knew what he meant. The Wizard's Council was to meet soon.

Later that evening, Aaramerielle took Mia for a run along the fence line, through the meadow, and down to the river.

"So you're a wizard, too?" Mia asked as they jogged along the bank of the river. Several horses followed tens of yards back.

"Yes, I know Saa," she replied. "I am novice, and will be fully ready in about six months."

"Why don't you have a Gaff behind your name, then?"

"I will when I graduate. I'll drop my present name and become Aaramerigaff."

"Right. Like Finnegaff."

"Right. But he's not just any ordinary wizard. He's the head of the Wizard's Council."

"Kind of like the president?"

"I don't know that word," Aaramerielle said.

"Like a leader."

"Well, yes and no," Aaramerielle said. Do all wizards say that right before they try to confuse you? "Kings are leaders of the people. Finnegaff is the leader of the wizards, who keep order in Saa."

"Kind of like police," Mia said.

"I don't know that word, either."

Mia thought a moment. "Like, if people do wrong things, the police go after them to make them stop."

"Only where Saa is concerned. If someone steals, for instance, soldiers of the court of the land they're in deal with them and they go to the Isle of Thieves, in exile. Wizards battle evil forces of Essaa, if they're good wizards."

"So there's bad wizards?"

"Of course, silly!" Aaramerielle wiped sweat from her brow. "You'll learn about that in history class."

The term history class turned Mia's stomach. She retracted the subject. "So Finnegaff doesn't rule people."

"He doesn't rule anything!"

"So he couldn't send a thief to...that place."

"The Isle of Thieves? Oh, yes, he can! And he has!"

"But he doesn't rule people."

"Oh, no, no! He'd never do that!"

"Then how could he send someone to the Isle of Thieves?"

"He's a wizard directed by Saa."

"Is everything he does directed by Saa?"

"No, oh, no!" She laughed. "Not Finnegaff!"

"Why is that funny?"

"Wizards have a, well, fun side. They, I mean we, have what we call 'honor to tradition', which usually involves ale and dancing and music and merrymaking."

"Finnegaff is a party animal?!"

"I'd never heard it called that!" Aaramerielle stopped running. She laughed. "But that's good! Yes! Party animal would be a good way to describe it!" Mia got caught up in the laughter. Soon the two were laughing to near tears. They laughed until they got their breaths back, then decided to walk the rest of the way to their room, laughing and joking.

"Fire is an element that can easily be changed," Marigaff told Mia under the starry night of Morrah's eternally moonless sky. They were all alone, seated cross-legged on carpets in front of a fire burning in a pit in the yard, the darkness of night closing in fast. The torch lit hall was filled with noise; music and merry laughter came from its open doors.

Marigaff began Mia's first lesson in Saa. "Observe." She spoke low as she pointed her Staff, Bielle Marre. "Thoris mocto du pon su ralafas! Anso su pesterel pon eme haska fa'an sulas ditidiss!" (Smoke before me of the fire! Be the image of one small bird in flight!) Immediately the smoke from the fire took the detailed form of a small bird. It flew about the area as a bird would, rapidly beating little wings as it gained altitude, trailing wispy curls of smoke in tight quick spirals from the tips of the noiseless wings until it dissipated into the atmosphere.

"Wow!" Mia said.

"Now you do it," Marigaff said.

Mia sighed. "I have no idea what you just said."

"Neither do I," said Marigaff. "Imagine a bird in your mind, being created from the smoke of the fire, then open your mouth and speak. Saa will form the words of the Old Elven tongue, though we do not understand them."

Mia thought about it as Marigaff waited patiently. She was anxious to try. She closed her eyes and envisioned the image of a bird, yet all she could think of was the bald eagle. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Aaaaaaahhhhgg!" she said. Nothing happened. "What did I just say?" she asked Marigaff. "What went wrong?"

Marigaff laughed. "You said 'aaaaaaahhhhgg! You must use your lips, child! Clear all thoughts from your mind and yield to the power of Saa that you feel in you."

The image of the United States of America's national emblem was yet stuck in her thoughts. She vacated her mind of everything except the bird and spoke again, this time yielding to Saa. "Thoris mocto du pon su ralafas! Anso su pesterel pon eme logostis tarftan sulas ditidiss!" (Smoke before me of the fire! Be the image of one great eagle in flight!)

The fire blazed, producing billows of smoke. An image formed, that of a huge eagle with a wing span wider than the length of a horse. It flapped its massive wings to take flight. The airflow created by the half substantial wings of the eagle blew glowing embers from the fire in all directions. Mia fell over backward as the eagle flew in low circles as it gained altitude. Hot ashes flew everywhere.

Marigaff brushed glowing ashes from her long, gray hair. She had not moved from her sitting position. Mia, however, was on her feet, slapping embers from herself. They watched the image of the eagle soar higher and higher until it finally dissolved just as Marigaff's bird had.

"Woah!" Mia said.

"Specific, child! Be specific in thought when you invoke Saa!" Marigaff wasn't mad; she was simply making a learning statement. "That will be all for today. You have touched Saa. Congratulations!" She held out her hand for Mia to take. Mia looked at the waiting hand.

"We don't do that here, but thanks anyway," she said.

Marigaff gave her a sly look. "Hmmm! Mia, child, your Saa is very powerful. Few have controlled that much power so soon in their training."

"It was only a bird," Mia said.

"Yes; a very big bird!" Marigaff dusted embers from her shawl, then stopped to look Mia in the eye. Mia knew she would never forget the face she now beheld nor ever let pass the words she was about to hear, no matter their content. Wizards have that kind of effect on a person. With hands clasped before her, Marigaff's compassionate eyes were filled with wisdom. She held her mouth firm, and her voice was of unquestionable authority. "I warn you: be careful, child. Do not invoke Saa without guidance. Saa is not to be trifled with and can produce results you may neither anticipate nor desire. Sometimes the impact of Saa is not what the sorcerer intends. That is one of the Proverbs of the Wizards."

"Does that mean that Saa kind of decides the outcome of things?" Mia asked.

"That's a well thought question, child. And one well thought of. You are a good student." She started walking toward the dining hall. Mia followed.

"So?" Mia said.

"So what?"

"So does Saa determine the outcome of things?"

"'...For destiny is yea of Saa, yet is of its own.' That's one of the wizard's proverbs, too."

Mia thought about it for a moment. "So what's that supposed to mean?"

"That means, child, that tomorrow morning I have some things for you to do. We'll meet in my chambers shortly after breakfast." She said not a word more as she led Mia from the darkening night into the brilliantly lit hall, alive with merrymaking's and jolly tales.

Now back in their shared room, Aaramerielle had seated herself on the edge of her chair, anxious for report.

"Then she said that my Saa was very powerful and I need to be careful, and that I could sometimes do things that I don't want to with Saa." Mia recounted the events to the spellbound Aaramerielle. They had all witnessed Mia's eagle from the dining hall. Not that any of them were spying.

"That's one of the Wizards Proverbs! 'The fruits of Saa are not always the wizard's harvest'."

Mia thought. Aaramerielle let her have the time, she having talent in instruction. "That fits. Anyway, I asked her if Saa has control over the outcome of things when it's used. I didn't get a straight answer. She just said 'that's a good question', quoted another proverb and walked off."

"I know that proverb, too! 'Let no wizard drink of the wine of Saa, lest Saa be his mentor and guide'. It's supposed to mean that Saa has the say so in the final outcome of things. Some wizards believe that Saa changes our uses of the power to fit just needs, ones that we are not aware of. Others believe that when Saa doesn't do what we want it's just by accident, not any kind of control. I believe it's Saa controlling destinies."

"No. That wasn't the one."

"The one what?"

"The proverb you just said."

"Oh! Then it would be 'for destiny is yea of Saa, yet is of it's own.' "

"You act like you know all about this," Mia said.

"Was I right?" Aaramerielle clasped her hands together.

"Yea. I think that was it."

"I spent the last year in a class on the proverbs." She said. She leaned forward and rested her chin on the palm of her hand, her elbow on the table. Doing so pulled her strawberry blond hair back from the side of her head and exposed one of her ears, which Mia had not yet seen, or maybe had not noticed until now.

"Aaramerielle!" she said. "What's wrong with your ear?" She sat up straight and leaned close to look.

"What?" Aaramerielle sat up, taking her hair back. "What do you see?"

"It's pointed!" She jabbed a finger at it. "On the top!"

Aaramerielle laughed. "Oh! That! They're supposed to be like that. I'm an elf, and elf ears are like that." Mia lowered her finger slowly.

"Really?" she said. "Really?! You're an elf?"

"Sorry! I thought you knew! Yes. My home is Elfwood." She sat up. "There's something else about me you might not know. Guess how old I am!"

Mia looked her up and down, as if it might reveal something she'd missed. She knew what Aaramerielle looked like. And acted like. "I dunno. Fourteen, maybe fifteen," she said.

"No!" She was smiling widely, enjoying her guessing game. "I turned one hundred seventy-four last winter."

Mia's eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped. "One-hundred-seventy-four?" In nearly every way Aaramerielle seemed to be younger than she. "That's amazing! I never would have guessed."

"You didn't. You missed by quite a bit."

They talked of many things before turning in for the night. Mia's bed was the most comfortable bed she'd slept in since her own. She lay in her bed thinking of home, perhaps a little more than she desired to. Tears welled up in her eyes. Not wanting to alarm Aaramerielle, she quietly shed tears until she fell asleep.

The next day Marigaff gave Mia a few assignments. First, she had her read to a small group of children, well behaved three or four year olds. Next, she helped Marigaff fold some linens, but did it with Saa. Mia thought it went well. She only tore two towels in half, well, one in four places, before she got the hang of it. Marigaff said she did well, too. That afternoon she helped with the lunch dishes, but not with Saa. Marigaff said there were too many people about for one as young in Saa as Mia to be practicing invocations. Someone would get hurt. After dishes, she was given a book to start reading, 'Basic Geography of Morrah', and returned to her quarters to look it over. At first it was boring, but it was all so new that putting the book down soon became difficult.

Aaramerielle was in their room for a while, and there they visited about many things. Aaramerielle proved to be a bottomless pit of knowledge when it came to certain subjects. Mia learned that the proverbs, history keeping, children and archery warfare were her areas of study. Despite Aaramerielle's childlike appearance and youthful hyper attitude, she displayed a lot of wisdom. She was, after all, one hundred seventy four years of age. Yet even with that knowledge Mia could not seem to regard her as an adult. As they visited, Mia's trust and respect for the fair elf grew, a kind of comfort, a serenity that relaxed her. She noticed that she was quickly beginning to feel very close to Aaramerielle.

That evening after dinner Mia was met with Marigaff for lessons on how to invoke Saa for food. She was talking with Marigaff as they strolled about the stables to the edge of the forest when the peal of a deep bell broke the evening stillness. The farm came alive with people running in response to the alarm. Marigaff turned in her tracks and looked to the sky above the farm behind them. Mia followed her gaze to see what looked like a very large plane circling the farm. Except that this plane flapped its wings.

Marigaff folded her arms. "'The Dragon Cwyth with an empty belly!"

Chapter 6

The dragon circled wide and flew nearly over them. Cwyth twisted his massive neck and looked directly at the two women. Mia peered from a tree she'd slipped behind. She could have sworn she saw the dragon nod his head.

The dragon was bigger than she had at first perceived. His wings looked black in the fading light, bat-like, pointed, spanning nearly sixty feet, more than enough to enable the dragon to glide over great distances. He executed controlled flaps of his wings, but slight movements of the tips enough to change course precisely to his liking. He flew by, and so close was he that Mia could feel wind from his wings and see the trails of dark smoke coming from his alligator-like mouth. Graceful was the deep, loud rippling noise of his wing beat, like a monstrous sheet being snapped vigorously as it was shaken out. The dragon passed them without another glance. Mia stayed behind the tree.

The dragon Cwyth rounded the far side of the farmhouse to approach from behind the stables. His mouth opened slightly. A stream of liquid fire spat from the beast's mouth as if it were shot from a cannon, scoring a direct hit on a pile of hay stacked some distance behind the barn. Mia could hear the roar of it even at this distance. The members of the community were ready. As soon as they spotted the dragon, they had begun the task of fetching buckets from the fire shed. Upon spotting the fire, they rapidly set up a bucket brigade and began to douse the fire with water from the stock tanks. Mia learned later that they drilled for this.

The dragon turned sharply after igniting the pile of hay and banked hard to the right as he swept low to the ground, and so low was he that the tip of his right wing brushed the grasses in the pasture. Mia didn't grasp what he was up to until she noticed a small herd of spooked cattle. The dragon gained altitude, retracted his wings and went into a fast dive, as does a hawk. He extended his wings to slow himself as he reached his fleeing prey, then snatched up two of the cattle at the rear of the herd, one in each hind foot. She could hear the cattle wail, even at this distance. The dragon banked to the left and again came in their direction. Up he flew as he passed over them, then disappeared over the southerly treetops with the doomed bovine.

Marigaff turned to Mia. "Go back to the hall and tell the cooks that I'll be delayed." She spun on her heel, stomped off in the direction the dragon had gone, south through the woods. Mia was concerned and almost said something. Marigaff was walking into the dark wood at night, no road, and no path to follow. But then she reasoned that Marigaff probably knew what she was doing, dropped her arms to her side and made her way to the farmhouse to tell the cooks what Marigaff had said.

The dragon was at his home, a huge, lifeless pit surrounded by forest. The east wall of the pit was a rocky cliff. A deep cave gaped in the middle, which Cwyth used as his lair. The other sides of the pit were dirt slopes formed when the animal had excavated his home many years before. The forest was inundated with piles of the skeletal remains of various meals he had consumed through a time, everything from deer to horses. None of the bones were of the intelligent races, though. With a good deal of persuasion from Marigaff, he had 'lost his taste' for those meats centuries ago.

The great dragon Cwyth lay on his side with one giant front foot supporting his head and the other pinning the carcass to the ground. He leisurely gnawed on the back half of one of the prizes he had liberated earlier in the evening. Light cast about him from a large fire over which the second cow hung on a spit. Marigaff walked into the firelight opposite him, then stopped to confront the huge beast. He had, of course, been expecting her.

"Dragon Cwyth! You owe me for two cattle."

"Come, come now, sorceress. Can you not even see it in you to spare a poor, defenseless dragon a few measly cows?" He barely looked up from his meal. Marigaff said nothing, arms crossed, glaring, foot tapping, frowning. "Very well, then," the dragon sighed. He would have rolled his eyes if dragons could roll their eyes, which they can't, as the banana-shaped cornea doesn't allow that sort of motion. He feigned irritation by slamming the half cow to the ground with a dull, dusty thunk, acting as if greatly inconvenienced. He reached along the wall behind him and dragged a sizable chest full of gold and jewels from the cave.

"Take as you will, sorceress. You grew tasty cattle this year." He went back to his feast.

"And hay," she said. Cwyth motioned with a wave to the treasure. "Be there not deer and oxen about, Dragon Cwyth?"

"Of course there are, sorceress. Beef is my fancy at this time." He resumed his gnawing. She knew better than to argue the point, for as everyone knows, dragons are hopelessly stubborn. Not to mention that her cattle were now in a non-returnable condition. And she wouldn't dream of attempting to take the dragon's meal from him.

"I'm pleased that you had your fun, even though it be at my expense. Dragon Cwyth! Pay attention to me!" She stood with hands on hips.

"I am, sorceress, I am," he said without a pause in his feast.

"The time of the Reading of the Book of Life is upon us, dragon Cwyth. You need to stay alert!"

Cwyth ceased his chewing, set the carcass down, extended his neck over the fire and stopped his muzzle inches from Marigaff's face. He tipped his head slightly. "So the Carrier has been transformed."

Marigaff nodded once. "That was she with me you saw at your marauding."

Cwyth laughed. "Your esteemed Carrier hid from me behind a tree?! That's like hiding from an arrow behind paper!" He laughed at his own wit. Dragons have such egos that they hardly ever laugh at anything but themselves. Marigaff did not share the humor with him.

"She is innocent, so are they all. Mind your manners around Miagaff, dragon Cwyth!"

"Miagaff?! She's a wizard?" His laughter renewed. "Why, sorceress, she'd hardly be an appetizer for me!" He paused but for a second. "Appetizer!" He roared in laughter. Fire spewed from his mouth in all directions. Marigaff decided on a bit of personal safety.

"Ralafas eshemal du!" (Fire avert me!) Marigaff pointed her staff, Bielle Marre, at the dragon, who was unconcerned about the action. He knew that the power of Saa could not effect him, at least not directly.

"Wizard!!" Cwyth paused, barely able to contain himself. "Appetizer!!" Again the dragon roared in fits of laughter. Fire that flew from him sometimes came toward Marigaff. As the flame was about to hit her, it curved and diverted its searing path to either side only to soar harmlessly through the air behind. When Cwyth saw this, he stopped laughing. He stood on his hind legs and towered above her. His long neck reared back into an "s" shape. He did not take his eyes from her. Marigaff walked toward the treasure chest. She ignored Cwyth. The dragon drew a great breath and released a torrent of his most ferocious flame directly at Marigaff from but a few yards away. The unseen force, the force of Saa, averted the flame from her, leaving her unscathed. The dragon stopped and stared as if he did not believe what he had just witnessed. He then burst into laughter and fell backward to his side with an earth-shaking boom. Marigaff selected a few gold coins in honest compensation for the cattle and hay.

"You are a stubborn overgrown lizard, dragon Cwyth." She smiled and shook her head. She and Cwyth had been friends, after a fashion, for eons. It began when they had allied during the Centaurian-Mantid war some nine hundred years before. Since then they had been neighbors, and allied in many other skirmishes. Cwyth was a wise dragon, but still he was a dragon. Dragons had egos; they stole cattle and sheep and treasures; they were vain, greedy, smart, and they were unaffected by Saa. At least he did respect her farm, for the most part. He had taken the intelligent races off his menu; for that, she did give him credit. He also agreed to not burn buildings, though he did insist on burning at least something every now and then. He was, after all, a dragon, and dragons do like to burn things. So Marigaff complied, as long as she received compensation. In return, Cwyth would do Marigaff an occasional favor. It could be worse, she knew. In fact, it was, if you happened to live elsewhere. In Slagg, for instance, where the dragon Creggar was not so discerning or kind. Or in the Land of Desolation, where the dragon Corgg really didn't care for company of any sort. The final of the only four dragons of Morrah, Cinndar, though by far the biggest, was the most gentle. He was the self-appointed keeper of the Plains of the Great Beasts of Awlland, not that anyone would dispute his claim. Cinndar was primarily concerned about maintaining the wild herds of large animals that roamed said plains, and allowed no interference with them from the intelligent races, though he loved entertaining visitors. Many would call on his hospitalities when on the Plain of the Great Beasts.

Marigaff pocketed the coins she had taken from Cwyth's treasures and started climbing the steep embankment of the north side of the huge pit. She spoke in a normal tone of voice. "Great day, dragon Cwyth." He heard, despite his roaring laughter.

He slowed his laughing to a snicker for just a moment. "Great day, sorceress! Appetizer!" He continued with his uncontrolled laughing.

Marigaff strolled through the woods for a while, the sound of Cwyth's laughing fits breaking the night silence. After a mile or so, she stopped. She held her Bielle Marre before her and invoked Saa. "Stelta reamma! Osterroho du ah duo Llameste!" (Kind elk! Provide me to my home!) As the words left her lips, a huge elk walked from the dark woods and stood beside her. She mounted the elk in the manner one would a horse, then properly seated herself. The steed trotted off through the woods at good speed in the direction of Marigaff's Farm, Marigaff riding with practiced ease.

Two weeks later Mia had still forgotten to ask Marigaff where she'd gone on the evening of the dragon attack. Not that she was afraid of Marigaff; in fact, she knew that she could ask or tell Marigaff just about anything. What she was afraid of, well, not so much afraid of as much as overwhelmed with, was the constant many things happening that were so foreign to her. She was learning to ride a horse, and was doing pretty good. She was studying the geography of Morrah, reading mostly of Awlland and Slagg. She took in some history. Her favorite subject was a class taught from a book entitled "The Races of Morrah", which was all about the intelligent races of the planet: humans, elves, fairies, sylphs, dwarfs, Mumbwe, Mantids, trolls, dragons, sea serpents, whales and something called the 'husbandmen'. Tree was even in the book. The class, which enrolled only Mia, probably because everyone else already knew the material, went as deep as to cover how the races interacted with each other. She practiced Saa by uprooting small unwanted trees, loading hay, forming things with smoke (one of her favorites), cooking, gathering motherberries, and once scared some horses that were being trained by a few stable boys. She even caught a half dozen sheep on fire, quite by accident, and she did say she was sorry to the people who had to put them out. She didn't care to think of that one.

Mia had the opportunity to go running with Aaramerielle about every other day. Marigaff actually encouraged it, much to the delight of the two young ladies, and it was during these runs that Mia would visit with the elf girl, asking many questions about Morrah and its particulars. Aaramerielle was unquenchable in her willingness to teach anything that Mia wanted (with the exception of Saa invocations), a good balance of the teacher being as eager as the student. Mia found herself immersed in learning all about her new world; it was all so...new! Aaramerielle turned out to be her biggest source of information. Mia gave her close attention; she had a feeling that Aaramerielle's alliance would some day be invaluable.

Marigaff had left the farm some six days prior on what she called a 'task'. She left suddenly, and hadn't told Mia where she was going or what she was doing, only that Mia was in Aaramerielle's charge. She rarely left the farm at all, at least not for extended periods of time like this. Mia was becoming concerned, though Aaramerielle told her that there was really nothing to worry about.

Chapter 7

The extraordinary room they congregated in was situated beneath a mountain in the lower mountains of the Great Mountain Range, home to the Giants, caretakers of the Hall of the Wizards for nearly four thousand years. Finnegaff seated himself on the high-backed chair at the end of the long, highly polished, oval wood table. All the ornately carved chairs at the table had high backs, but Finnegaff's was the tallest.

"Be it known that upon this day it is gathered the Council of Wizards as set to rule by the Elves of old." Finnegaff enunciated each word in a deep, authoritative voice. He held the scroll in front of him, though just a formality, for he had not need of it, having memorized it centuries ago. "We come unto the presence of the twelve. We gather in the common interest of upholding the balance of Saa. Let all those who are of other mindset be gone!" He paused and looked at each of them just for a second to see if any took the offer of dismissal, which certainly would have been just less than treason, and got the usual unerring response. All remained seated. He often wondered what would happen if any of them ever got up and left. "Let the Council of Wizards commence!" Finnegaff rolled the scroll and set it on the table before him. For a moment, all were quiet.

Marigaff broke the silence. "Dear friends, how good to see all of you! As you know, we've rounded the turn of four hundred years and the Reading of the Book of Life is upon us. As of now I am in training Miagaff, the Carrier of the Book of Life."

"Hail, good friend!" Heragaff the historian said. His long white beard nearly touched the ground from where he sat. He leaned back in his chair while tipping the brim of his pointed wizard's hat. "Tell us, dear Marigaff, how fares the Carrier?"

"Is she great with Saa?" asked Kordigaff, war councilor.

"Does she have a gift of creation?" asked Ameretegaff, Lady of Peace.

"Is she eager and with respect?" Sterrigaff, keeper of trees.

"Does she conceive to her destiny?" Heragaff again.

Marigaff spoke. "I answer yes to all of these lest the latter, of which she knows her quest, yet not the peril nor impending doom that it might entail. Her will is strong; her Saa powerful. She proves a most ample student and performs as none I've seen." All was quiet for moments. The Council of Wizards held deep respect for the comments of one another, particularly when the one speaking was within the bounds of their own field. When Marigaff said something like what she had, the council received her with deserving respect.

"Miagaff indeed is a strong and competent student. I believe she has," Marigaff said, "the gift of healing!"

"Shemesaa!" Llormigaff, keeper of the archives, said. A murmur broke out amongst the council.

Finnegaff waited patiently for the talking to cease in its own time. "But two times have we seen Shemesaa, friends. Verelligaff," he said to the Elven scholar of Saa, "What might you tell us of Shemesaa?"

The congregation yielded the floor to the wise scholar, for it was he who toiled over the little known proverbs and scrutinized the unwritten accounts of the mysteries of Saa. "It is true that but two have yielded this strength and blessing. There are firm accounts of healing from disease, injury and sickness of mind. Indeed, turmoil in battle has been averted with it; crippled men walked again, and the drowning sickness of wetlung fled its victim on Saa's command! Yet it has not the ability to give back life. Nay, even Saa could perform such a task!" He waited for the drama to set in. The other wizards stood by patiently; Finnegaff reclined with feet on table and puffed his pipe. Heragaff wrote confidently in his history journals. Wizards liked to engage in flamboyant speech at times, dramatizing their stories. All wizards have their moments of glory with words, for as everyone knows, this is the nature of wizards. When these moments occurred during assemblies of the Council, the speaker would be given the floor while all waited patiently through the dissertation, knowing that at some time they, too, would take turn to embellish dialog. The other council members would then grace them with their opportunity for historic speeches.

He continued. "The invocation of Shemesaa is determined by Saa, not the wizard. When it engages, it is said that the wizard has no way to avert it, nor does he have control over what it is going to do. Furthermore, there is no warning before the invocation begins!" Another murmur broke out in the assembly of the wizards. This was unheard of! At the very least, the wizard invoked the spell. Though the end result might vary slightly from what the wizard's intent was, the generation of the invocation always came from the wizard.

"How is this so?" Sterrigaff, the forest green sylph from Elfwood and keeper of the trees, raised her dark green eyebrows and brushed her thin, medium length emerald hair from her face with a delicate hand. Despite being very petite, she carried the same heavy air of authority as any wizard of the council.

Verelligaff hesitated in thought. "It is believed by some scholars of Saa that Saa controls the invocation because of purpose critical to destiny. Others say that it is a rare extension of Saa's good and requires a wizard of great strength to manifest."

"And what say you?" Finnegaff asked the scholar.

"I hold to the first theory based on my own knowledge and experience," he said. "Marigaff, to what do you hold this account of suspected Shemesaa?"

"When Miagaff invokes, the Saa forces that hold healing are present," she said. That was enough evidence for the others.

"Skallagaff," Finnegaff moved along, "What of the Kings?"

"Even now do the Kings grow anxious," spoke Skallagaff, the Mantid wizard advisor to all kings. Her prayer-like arms amply held a cup of water, the claw at the end of her arm with four prongs, the fourth prong an opposing digit. Her other limb gestured grandly in time with her words. Skallagaff was strict to proper manner. She was, after all, wizard advisor to kings. Her orange antennae moved slightly as she spoke. "Many are prepared with a representative for the Reading of the Book of Life as now." She twisted her antennae together, which is how a Mantid smiles. "Queen Xyledes is being a bit difficult, as we could have all predicted."

"We did, a few centuries ago," Heragaff the historian said. All laughed at this: a "yes, I do recall!" here and an "Oh, by Saa!" there. When Finnegaff, who all knew had gone through a great deal of trial that few centuries ago as a result of Queen Xyledes' insistence that her immortal daughter be their representative, said in a serious voice, "somebody refresh my memory; I don't seem to recall..." they laughed all the harder.

"I'm getting too old for these escapades," Finnegaff said. Murmurs of agreement and heads nodding somberly supported his statement. He bolted upright in his chair. "Cease this undeserved defamation of my character, scoundrels!" He pointed his pipe aimlessly at them all and laughed with them. He then lit his pipe with the tip of the quill with which he had been writing.

"There is something," he began, "that concerns me." The assembly grew quiet. "Miagaff is, well, so young."

"Not a child!" Kordigaff the Dwarf and advisor to war sat up in his chair. "Not again!"

"Not so much a child," Marigaff said. "A young lady, fifteen years of age."

"That's not so bad," Ameretegaff the Mumbwe rang in confidence. "I was fifteen once!" They laughed.

"So was I," Finnegaff said. "But I wasn't Carrier of the Book of Life at fifteen! Miagaff is...testy. Strong willed. Aggressive. She still displays immature behavior that tries me, and concerns me for the Carrying, uh, concerns me for her safety, for the safety of the Book of Life."

"She's fine, dear!" Marigaff, seated at Finnegaff's right hand, laid her hand upon his.

"I know, I know." He looked at the quill he still held. "It's just that, well," he looked up at all of them, panning his view. "Her decisions are variably irrational," he began. The rest remained silent and allowed him to air his grievance.

"Several weeks ago I found Mia and brought her directly to Marigaff." He patted her hand and smiled, as did Ameretegaff, the Lady of Peace. "In that time she asked many questions. She learns fast; this I saw immediately. But she is naive, more so than those Carriers of the past." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "For you see, when the Carrying is in progress, undoubtedly Eringaff will make her attempts to procure the Book of Life. When that happens, Miagaff needs to be ready. I mean not only for battle," he looked at the wizard advisor to war, "but also in Saa. And courage and honor and dedication."

"Eringaff is very driven this Carrying," Garhagaff, the keeper of the Land of Desolation said."Her race to lay hands upon the Book and defeat Gaff is what motivates her. Gaff continues to be persistent with her to gain the Book of Life for his own reasons, which she knows includes not her. The true contest is between the two of them."

"I have heard rumor of such. Thank you, beloved Garhagaff." Finnegaff expressed his gratitude, for he knew how hard that kind of information was to acquire. "All the more reason." He shook his head and looked downward in thought.

"Dear Finnegaff," Ameretegaff said. Indeed she was world renowned for her gentle compassion. "My dear Finnegaff! Are not all Carryings with obstacle? Recall Karengaff."

"Yes, yes," he replied.

"And do not forget that which you yourself proclaim," Sterrigaff, keeper of the trees said. "'I would rather school to the innocent than to a seasoned wizard of self-teaching!'" She gently looked at him. Her shining emerald hair framed her soft, lovely green complexion.

"Yes! I do say that, don't I?"

"And 'with the youth come perfect buds of the fruit of wisdom'," added Marigaff.

"Yes. True! It's all true!" He spread his arms wide, dropped them to his lap, sat back in his chair and sighed. "My deepest gratitude, loved friends!" They all nodded, consenting to move on.

"The usual route will be followed. I shall look forward to your continued support throughout the journey as our paths meet."

The Council of Wizards met late into the evening and into the dawn. The main topic was, of course, the best of successes for the Carrying of the Book of Life. They met on many things that had nothing to do with the Carrying. It had, after all, been nearly three years since they had convened. By noon the next day, all matters had been decided upon.

"It has been found by the good Council of Wizards that I, Finnegaff, be guide and see the Carrier of the Book of Life through to the Reading; that Marigaff see that Miagaff be prepared in nigh a month; that all council inform those allies of their charge of what befell them; that, as it is written in law: 'lest a token of every good race behold the Reading of the Book of Life.' Of each race shall the Reader choose one: human, dwarf, elf, mumbwe, lesser fairy, centaur and mantid, and I, Finnegaff, standing for the race of men."

"Finnegaff," Ameretegaff the Mumbwe Lady of Peace said. She smiled a warm smile that would melt the heart of the meanest darkhound. She and Finnegaff had always been close, as was any combination of any of the members of the Council of Wizards. "Finnegaff, why be you so painfully formal? Me thinks perhaps a stomach ailment might take me!" She laid the back of her hand upon her forehead. Everyone laughed.

Finnegaff stood, holding aloft his staff, Lebethtro Larra. He spoke in his deepest, most majestic voice. "According to that which is written, the Wizard's Council shall show their honor to tradition of 'Council for the Eighth Carrying of the Book of Life'! Remecta Saa! Facas duoa mielle! Eme borska o lorus nar onso raffe! Lo'rotien aftalla!" (Friend Saa! Let there be our song! A keg and mugs for all here! King's supper!) As he lowered Lebethtro Larra gently upon the table, a silver keg with twelve silver goblets hanging from it's perimeter appeared in the center of the table, surrounded by a feast: roast lamb, fruits, duck, breads, cheeses and vegetables. From an indeterminable direction came the sounds of a musical ensemble: string drum combined with woodrod to harmonize to the beat of drums. Tambourine-like instruments beat exciting, driving rhythm. Each and every one of them sprung for their mugs. Honor to tradition was, after all, the highlight of the meetings of the Council of the Wizards. This particular honor to tradition lasted three days.

Marigaff had returned to the farm with Finnegaff only to find Mia's knowledge and abilities multi fold. So eager was she to learn! And a good thing it was, for time was running short. The wizards never knew when Saa would deliver the outworlder to become the Reader of the Book of Life. Once it had been two years ahead of time, others, like this one, a few months.

Also, not to Marigaff's surprise, Mia was feeling pangs of homesickness.

On the second afternoon following Marigaff's return, Mia requested audience with her during study time. It was in Marigaff's quarters that they met on this rainy day. Mia, according to protocol, removed her muddy boots upon entering the charming room. Marigaff had a table for sitting in meeting with whoever it might be that called upon her, seating up to eight in number. Mia sat down on the sofa a few feet from the motherly sorceress, one leg tucked under with an arm across the back of the couch. Marigaff sat cross-legged, her hands folded in her lap. She looked at Mia, her body language signaling her undivided attention. She said nothing, allowing Mia the latitude to speak. After a few moments, she did.

"Lady Marigaff?" she said. Marigaff waited patiently as Mia searched for words. "I...I don't know what to do." She choked back tears. "It's so nice here, and exciting and all, but..." She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "I really miss my mom," she said, "and my friend Susan." She laughed nervously and looked at Marigaff with teary eyes. "But not my brother!" Marigaff smiled.

"Soon will come the day when you may return at will," Marigaff said, "and transform between here and there as you so desire."

"But how do I know that?" she asked. "I mean, I believe you and everything, but right now, well, it's been so long!"

"Yes, child, it has. And the time will come for you when it will not have seemed so. Until then, your placement in time and space are Saa's to decide."

"You...you really can't understand," Mia said.

"Mia, dear. Do you know where I am from?" Mia shook her head. "England."

"England?! Like, England, England?"

"Yes, dear. Earth. London, England. 23 Berkshire Way, to be exact."

"Do you...do you ever go back?" Mia asked.

"From time to time. To see friends and family."

"But you're here most of the time."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I like it here. In England, I am a peasant woman. Here I am a person who can make a difference."

"Don't they miss you? Like, don't they notice you've been gone a long time?"

"Time passes differently between the two worlds. As one goes back and forth, time does not pass on the world they aren't in."

"Yeah, I know that," Mia sighed. "Its just that...." She shook her head. "What were you doing the last time you were home. I mean in England." She flipped her hands in the air. "Whatever."

"I am thatching feathers to arrows there now. My family sells them to the crown for the army."

"England uses arrows for war? Haven't they heard of guns?"

"I am from a different time than you," she said. "My time is 1642."

Mia stared at her. "That was a long time ago!"

"For both of us! I have been in Morrah for thirty-two hundred years, yet only six months have passed in England."

Mia absorbed this. "Do you look the same?"

"Mostly. My hair is longer here. I am fifty-eight in England, but here I haven't the aches and pains that go with old age."

"How did you get here?" Mia asked.

"Much the same as you. The first time I transformed I was in Elfwood, deep in the forest."

"Why?" Mia had so many questions!

"Because it is what Saa directed."

"No! Why did Saa direct you here?"

"To become Carrier of the Book of Life," Marigaff said.

Mia stared in amazement. "Why don't I know this?" she puzzled. "I know about some of the other Carriers, but...."

Marigaff smiled mischievously. "That information was intentionally withheld from you, dear," she said.

"Then why are you telling me now?"

"Because it is time."

There were some sorts of things Mia had learned not to pursue wizards on, mostly because they enjoyed confusing her way too much, and she knew this to be true. She had learned to read the signs. "Still, I...I miss home."

I know, dear." Marigaff hugged Mia and smiled warmly. "I really know."

Mia tried to think about the whole picture Marigaff had painted for her, but could not erase her home from her mind. She couldn't hold the tears any longer. She held on to Marigaff and sobbed uncontrollably. While she cried, a knock came upon the door.

"Choritis fross melemass!" (Please do not disturb!) Marigaff spoke softly. The student at the door received a picture (rather than words) that he was to leave them alone for a time. All who came to call received the same picture even before they knocked. Marigaff stroked Mia's hair and held her, not knowing that Mia's mother had done the same when she was a young child. Soon Mia fell asleep. Marigaff continued to hold her and allowed her rest until Mia herself decided that she wanted to wake up.

Much later that evening, Mia plotted. She had thought hard about how to get to her homeland. She reasoned that if she had transformed into this strange world by where Tree was rooted, the way home must be at the same place. She felt guilty for planning to run away from Marigaff's Farm, after all they had done for her. But they were looking for a Reader of the Book of Life when they found her, weren't they? Saa could find somebody else just as easily. Late that night while Aaramerielle slept, Mia arose and took up the small bag she had prepared in secret for her leave. She slipped through the doorway without a sound, out into Morrah's forever-moonless black night.

Earlier she considered taking a horse, but decided against it: she would not steal from these kind people. She took only a few clothes and some food which she figured she would have eaten anyway.

She trudged on for hours, keeping her ears open for any odd noises. She walked through the rolling hills, taking care as she stumbled through the darkness. She inadvertently stumbled onto a stone wall she did not remember being there. Just as she was thinking about how odd it was that the wind which blew from an opening in the rocks of the wall had a most rancid odor, two huge glowing yellow eyes as wide as a basketball and shaped like a banana slowly opened not ten feet in front of her. Instantly she realized that it was not a stone wall she had stumbled upon, but the Dragon Cwyth, who had been napping on her chosen path. The fowl wind she smelled was the dragon's rotten breath. She froze in terror, hoping he would fall back into his sleep and leave her unnoticed. Of course he did not.

He raised his monstrous head. She could barely see him. He turned his head to the side. She jumped backward when she heard him take in a deep breath. He let go a roaring stream of fire to his left and ignited several small trees. The light from the fire allowed her to see him better.

"Who dares to disturb my slumber?" he said. He looked her in the eye as would a hunter to its prey. Mia was speechless with fear. She knew Saa had no effect on dragons. "My, my! You are an ugly little thing! Hardly an appetizer for the likes of me!" He laughed to himself. "Do you not know how stupid it is to be stumbling about in the dark of night in this land?" Faster than she could move, faster than something the size of Cwyth should be able to move, the dragon seized her with his powerful front claw.

Chapter 8

Mia's struggles were in vain. She struck at the dragon with both hands. The dragon lifted her from the ground. She pushed and pried and hit and fought, but the mighty claw might have been steel for all she could get it to move.

Then she recalled something she had learned about dragons: they loved to be flattered, to have their ego fed.

She stopped struggling. "Dragon Cwyth," she said in the sweetest voice she could muster. "What beautiful eyes you have!"

The dragon tightened his grip. "Don't patronize me, ugly little thing!"

"But they are beautiful eyes."

"Yes, I know." He vainly threw his head back. His grip loosened. It's working!

"And your voice! So musical!" The grip tightened.

He swung his huge head to within a few feet of hers. Mia struggled. She pressed the side of her face hard against the huge claw, which bound her from knees to the top of her head, in attempt to distance herself from the dragon's muzzle, but in vain. The mighty dragon's grip was like being encased in steel. He exhaled slowly just feet away from Mia. His breath was sickening in the first few seconds, and dragons can take a long time to exhale, if they so choose, and it was thus the dragon Cwyth so chose. He spoke to her in a whisper. "No more patronizing! You are little more to me than the irritating fly!"

If a dragon could ever have a look of intent, it certainly would have been Cwyth at that very moment. A dragon's expression that came even close to being decipherable carried a lot of weight, Mia later realized, for, as everyone knows, dragon's faces are incapable of changing expression. And it was indeed much later Mia realized this, because right now she was in serious trouble. She trembled with fear. His gigantic forked tongue wagged as it tasted the air and then the damp, scarlet forked tip, both at the same time, brushed her face from her lower jaw to half way to her eye up and down several times. Under different circumstances, the motion might have tickled. It touched her face! Mia's head spun. She nearly fainted from fear. Without another word the mighty dragon stood, and in one strong leap, sprung from the ground and took to flight. Mia held on to the dragon's claw, though she really had no need. Cwyth had a firm grip. Up they flew into the night, high into the black sky. Navigation came easy for him, for, as everyone knows, dragons have incredibly keen night vision. He had lit the trees on fire only so that Mia could see him; he knew how others perceived dragons, and how they perceived him. Many feared his fierce, intimidating presence. One of his favorite things to do was to entertain that fear.

Shortly into the flight Mia noticed they were heading toward a group of sparingly lit buildings. From this distance she could not be certain, but as they grew closer she saw that it was indeed Marigaff's Farm. She hoped he wouldn't attempt to raid the farm with her in his claw. Cwyth soundlessly circled the farm once. His great wings flapped in a backward motion, slowing him to alight with a deep thump on the lawn in front of the house. There on the lawn, twenty feet from where Cwyth set down, was Marigaff in her white wicker rocking chair, smoking her pipe while knitting in the light of a small fire. She stopped her knitting when Cwyth dropped Mia directly in front of her. Mia fell hard to the ground.

"Take care what you do with your things, sorceresssss!" the dragon hissed.

"And I will thank you for not taking meal of that which is mine!" she said. "Please burn nothing upon your leave, Dragon Cwyth! I wish to not have to call upon you again so soon." Without a word, Cwyth sprung fifty feet into the air. A few mighty flaps of his great wings and he was gone. It was a long moment when Marigaff finally finished a section of her knitting before addressing Mia.

"That was unwise, child. Other dragons wouldn't have been so merciful." Mia remained where she lay, crumpled in a half ball. She began to sob.

"I...I...I di'n't mean to...I miss...I....my mom!" Mia broke into tears. Marigaff set her knitting aside and bent to her. For a long time they sat on the cool grass of the yard. Marigaff, not for the first time, held Mia while she cried.

Marigaff spoke with Mia the next morning, having summoned Mia to her quarters after breakfast. "And just because you're sorry for what you've done does not mean that it go unpunished." That much Mia knew. "We all have choices, but sometimes we are not the ones who get to make those choices."

"'For in life we know not always how we turn," Mia quoted one of the wizard's proverbs, "verily, we turn.'"

"Very good, child. It is the wise wizard that accepts this. For today, you shall have the responsibility of cleaning stables."

"What?!" Mia exclaimed. She sat up in her chair. "I don't think so!"

"For two days."

"You said for just today!" Mia pleaded.

"Three."

"Oh, I get it. You're gonna add a day for every time I argue." Mia held a fisted hand to her chin, a habit she had adapted from Aaramerielle.

"Yes, child," replied Marigaff. "That is how this works. Now. Where were we?"

"I'm not shoveling manure is where we were," Mia said.

"Four."

"Hey! You trapped me! That's not fair!"

"All things are fair, child, when looked at rightly. This trap builds character," Marigaff said, "yet other traps destroy." The look she gave Mia was enough to announce the end of the conversation. Unfortunately for Mia, she did not interpret the look correctly.

"Still," Mia planted her fists on her hips, "I am not cleaning stalls!"

The hot, bright mid-morning sunlight shone on the steamy piles in the stables where Mia stood motionless with a pitchfork. The flies were thick, their buzz melding into a constant irritating hum. Mia thought that with all the stinking manure she was shoveling, the flies would land on the manure, not her. But the flies didn't seem to think so. She was on her third day of punishment. At least the schedule only required two hours a day.

She was hauling the last barrow of manure to the dump site when a thought came over her. Not just an idea. Something of a picture, something she could see in her mind. The thought scared her. Somehow she knew without a doubt that it was Saa talking to her. She stood outside the stall, still holding the barrow of manure, flies buzzing, lighting on her, but she ignored them. Something was happening. She dropped the barrow where she stood and ran straight to Marigaff's quarters. She had to get there as quickly as possible. Marigaff would know what to do.

"Lady Marigaff!" Mia burst into the room without permission to enter. "Lady Marigaff! Something's happening!"

Marigaff looked at Mia, then at the trail of soil Mia had spread on her clean floor, then back to Mia.

Mia followed her eyes to the smudged floor boards. "Oh! Sorry!" she said.

Marigaff shook her head and motioned to the chair reserved for her subordinates, which indeed was most everyone. Mia sat.

"What is it, child?"

"Marigaff! Something happened! In my head! I have to go see Tree! I don't know why, but Tree's important! I've never been hit so hard with a feeling like this in my life I know, I know, that I have to go see Tree!"

Marigaff held a hand in the air signaling Mia to stop. "Child, I know what this is. You have had a vision of Saa."

Mia had heard of visions Saa had given some wizards. From time to time Saa would "tell" things to certain people, usually wizards with particular tasks at hand. Why would she be having a vision? What sort of task would Saa give her that would involve Tree?

"What did Saa tell you, child?" Marigaff asked.

Mia thought of the picture, not words, that she had received. "I saw Tree. He had arms, but they were branches, but arms, you know? And he was handing something to me." She looked at the ground and then at Marigaff. Her eyes shot open wide as Saa again overcame her, stronger this time, the warm, flowing, serene feeling of the magic of Saa she'd come to love. "I must go to Tree! He has something for me, something that I have to have if I'm gonna do what I'm supposed to. Whatever that means. That's exactly the feeling I got. Still have! What does all this mean?"

"It means that we are going to call upon our friend Tree. Now." Without another word, Marigaff stood and strode to the door. Mia sat there in the chair. "Come, child! It is for you that we go!" Mia shot out of the chair and followed the fast moving sorceress out the door and across the expanse of lawn.

They walked at a medium pace down the path through the distant gate of the yard, the mid morning sun warming their faces, Marigaff holding her head high with confidence.

"Shouldn't we tell someone that we're leaving?" Mia asked.

"We will return soon," the sorceress replied.

"Well, what is it we're going after?"

"We shall ask Tree when we get there in a few hours."

"But Tree's two days away."

"Yes, child, he is. If we were to walk there. But we are not going to walk."

"Then how are we going to get there?" Mia asked. She almost ran to keep up.

"We are going to fly."

"Fly? How? Do you have an airplane in your back pocket or something?"

Marigaff sighed. "I have no idea what an airplane is, and would not know an airplane from a fence post. And I am certain that there is not one on my person, nor on any other person I know."

Mia decided that further interrogation would be futile, as Marigaff's answers were the evasive answers that wizards always seem to enjoy giving.

For half an hour they walked the easy path in silence. Soon they turned off of the path at what seemed to be the right place, though Mia did not see anything unique about their turn off point. No path, no marker. Just sparse forest like all the rest of the forest they had passed. Through the woods they walked until they came to a meadow beside a brook. There they stopped.

"Here," Marigaff said. She looked straight ahead as she spoke, holding Bielle Marre before her. "Slorkta Cwyth! Da ramma maasa borrt nah allerie yawah!" (Dragon Cwyth! I ask your aid this humble day!) Mia could feel the unmistakable power of Saa wash over her like a like a warm dizziness. She knew that Marigaff had summoned somebody. Or something. They stood there a few moments. After a short time, from behind came the dragon Cwyth, gliding low over their heads. He turned sharply and landed in the meadow where they stood and folded his great wings behind his back. He lowered his head to their level.

"Sorceressssss," he said, "and her ugly little vagabond. You have asked of me aid to which I ask: to what cause?" The great beast intimidated Mia. His forked tongue, as big around as a broomstick, threateningly tasted the air.

"Friend Cwyth, so well is it that we do meet. Great day!" Marigaff addressed him.

"Oh, please!"

"Cwyth, this is Miagaff."

"I know what it is," he said. "Gaff, indeed!"

"Miagaff, tell Cwyth what happened."

"With what?" She backed behind Marigaff.

"Your vision, child."

"Oh! That! I...uh... had this thing in my head, and..."

"You had a vision of Saa and need to get somewhere quickly," Cwyth said. Cwyth had been around a long, long time. He recognized that the course of events surrounding the Carrying of the Book of Life had amazing similarities. He also knew very well that Marigaff would not request his aid for trivial matters.

"Well, yes and no," Mia said. She smiled at the thought of using a wizard's line. Her confidence elevated; she played the role of wizard. Serene. Wise. Knowing. In control. "We need to get to Tree right now!" She knew she had misplayed the role even before Cwyth spoke.

The dragon swung his head to her. Now that she could see Cwyth in the light, she saw that he was indeed in his own way very becoming, with mostly gold-edged purple scales, the purple changing hue as it shone like abalone in the midday sun. "And what makes you think that I should bear you there as the lowly beast of burden would?" He breathed warm breath in her face, the stench not as bad as the stable, but close.

"Dragon Cwyth, please!" Marigaff rolled her eyes at Cwyth.

"We'll give you a cow!" Mia said.

"Don't be so liberal with my cattle, Miagaff!" Marigaff said.

"Why should I accept bribery when I may take as I so choose?" Cwyth leveled and flattened his head menacingly; much the way a snake does just before it strikes. Mia took a step back.

"Dragon Cwyth! If you don't mind!" Marigaff had her hands on her hips.

With lightning fast movements that only predators can execute, Cwyth seized the two women by the waist with his fore claws. He bent his arms impossibly backward and placed Mia and Marigaff on his back between the two rows of stegosaurus-like plates.

"Mia," Marigaff said, "sit as such and grasp with your legs thus." Mia did as she was told, and none too soon, for the very moment she was securely seated, Cwyth left the ground. He did not leap into flight as he usually did, knowing that he might throw his riders should he attempt such a maneuver. The great dragon gained altitude with each powerful stroke of his wings. Soon they were gliding, the roller coaster effect leveling into a smooth, peaceful and quiet ride. The feeling was exhilarating! I'm riding a dragon! It was actually her second dragon ride, though the first one wasn't much fun. If only Susan could see this!

They were high enough that she had an entirely different perspective of just how vast Awlland was. The plains seemed to go on forever. In less than a few hours they began their descent. The landing was so smooth that Mia couldn't feel Cwyth's feet touch the ground. There to her left was Tree. When the dragon Cwyth lay prone upon the ground, Marigaff slid the distance from his back into the knee-deep flowery grasses. Mia followed suit. Cwyth held his head erect and settled into a pose that resembled a gigantic cat at rest and casually inspected the back of his right forefoot as if he were not going anywhere anytime soon. He ignored the two women

"Tree!" Marigaff said. A light breeze was bending Tree's branches on this most beautiful day. "Great day!"

"Great daaaaay, Sorceressssss!" Tree's branches moved slightly more than the wind moved them. Tree's trunk had the same solemn face in the bark she had seen when she first arrived on Morrah. "Great day, Miagafffffff!"

He'd called her by name! How did he know that? "How do you know my name?" she said.

"You are Miagafffff, the Sorceressssss. The Carrierrrrrr. All know thisssssss." The face remained motionless. A crackling sound like wood breaking came from high in Tree's branches. With a rustle it fell through the leaves and branches, a stick as big around as a silver dollar measuring six feet in length, slightly twisted but mostly straight. It came plunging to the ground and stuck like a spear in the moist dirt only two feet in front of Mia. She jumped back and looked up into the branches.

"Hey! Watch it, Tree!" she said. The bark on the trunk was smiling.

"Thisssssss issss for youuuuu." The stick before her was without bark, but the grain in the wood intriguing. The end of the stick that was not in the ground bore a large knot that upon closer inspection, Mia could see was an intricately formed rose. She reached out to take it. Upon laying her hand on it, she felt a strange warmth, one similar to a Saa invocation, begin to creep up her arm. In two seconds, it had engulfed her. Mia knew.

"This is why we came here," Marigaff said. "This is your wizard's staff. The staff builds the power of Saa. You will do things with your staff that without you would not have the strength. It cannot be destroyed lest you wish it. It will find its way to you if lost. It is its own master and an extension of Saa: take care its use." Marigaff had that look again. Mia stared at the staff she held in her hands. Marigaff continued. "Each wizard must choose his own staff when Saa deems the time appropriate. Most choose a special walking stick they've had for a while or a branch of a tree they favor. I've only once known Saa to vision one to a wizard. This is that once."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mia asked.

"We let those things mean what they may, child, and no more. Yet no less, either." Mia hated those kinds of answers. "Now, thank Tree. He has never given a staff to a wizard before."

She looked at Tree's trunk and noticed that the bark again wore a melancholy frown. Tree looked pathetic. "Thank you, Tree, for my staff. Are you sad?"

Tree's branches moved. "It issssss as parting with offfffffspring. She isssss called Dieliellllllle, from the Old Elvvvvvven tongue ffffffffor TrueRossssse."

"TrueRose?" Mia looked at the staff, feeling the binding warmth it radiated. "Staffs have names?"

"Don't you?" Marigaff said. "Call her Dielielle, dear. Not TrueRose.

It was then that Mia remembered that Tree was the one who had sent her to near certain peril, directly into the hands of man eating trolls.

"Hey!" Mia said. "You know you nearly got me killed? You sent me to a troll village! They hit me over the head and put me in a dungeon! Then they were going to eat me! I barely escaped!" She slammed the butt of her staff on the ground. Tree gave no reply. When her eyes made it back to Tree's trunk, the bark face was smiling again.

"SSSSSSSSSSoooooo! It wooorked!"

Mia heard Cwyth give out a small laugh. "What are you laughing at?" She glared at the big dragon.

"Tree!" Mia said. "That wasn't very funny!" The face on Tree's trunk had disappeared. "Tree!" she demanded. No response. "Tree! Answer me!" Cwyth let out a snort of laughter. And despite Mia's pleading, she could not persuade Tree to say another word.

They promptly left, flying back the way they had come. By Marigaff's direction, Cwyth put them down a league west of Marigaff's Farm so as not to cause alarm to the farm's populace. They walked the remaining distance to the farm.

"Why did Cwyth respond to Saa if Saa doesn't affect him?" Mia asked Marigaff.

"Dragons, you see, 'feel' Saa. They know when, how, and where Saa is being invoked, and can be spoken to through Saa. Cwyth will help, but only sparingly and rarely, as he's incurably lazy."

"So he might have told you no."

"He has many times," Marigaff confessed. "But he knew this request was important, and he does have a vested interest, one important enough that I knew he would be more than willing to come to our aid, despite the taunting he had given you at first."

"Yeah," Mia replied. "I could tell he was bugging you."

"He knew all along that he was going to help, even before we asked. He taunted you because that's just how Cwyth is. Mostly he's a nuisance."

"Cwyth and Tree should be on the same bowling team," Mia said.

"Bowling?"

"It's a game."

"Yes, child. Well. Tonight you shall learn about staffing."

"Why tonight? I'm tired. Could we do it in the morning?"

"Cwyth took us lest we lose time on foot. Time draws nigh that you depart."

"Depart? To where?" She knew where.

"To fulfill your duty as Carrier of the Book of Life, of course," Marigaff said. Mia knew that she was supposed to be carrying some book somewhere. She was hoping for more information from the sorceress. She knew that wasn't going to happen.

"Okay. Whatever. So when am I leaving?"

"At the morrow's dawn's light. My Lord Finnegaff awaits us as of yet to act as guide."

"Tomorrow?!"

"No! The day after."

Finnegaff met with Marigaff, Mia and by Mia's request, Aaramerielle, in Marigaff's quarters shortly after first light. Finnegaff's pointed, floppy wizard's hat sat a bit crooked above his uncombed long, gray hair. He reclined in a comfortable chair and lit his pipe, this time with his big toe. A fire burned in the fireplace. Marigaff had hot cider for all. Finnegaff looked around at the small company with a nod, then wasted no time getting down to business.

"Thus we begin the eighth Carrying of the Book of Life in the year 3199. In council are Marigaff, the first Carrier of the Book of Life, Miagaff, the Carrier of the present, and Aaramerielle, the novice wizard elf. Mia, dear, I will tell what I can of the journey. Ask what you may." The wizard smiled. He placed his bare feet upon the table and leaned back in his chair. The blazing fireplace to his right provided the only light upon his face.

"Long ago," he began, "the world of Morrah was ruled by the elves of old, who lived by the laws of magic. The world lived in harmony, all races of intelligence: elf, dwarf, mumbwe, Centaur, Mantid, giant, man and all lived with little more than rare minor conflict. For thousands of years the magic of old gave way to peace and forgiveness, until one elf succumbed to greed. His name was Gaff."

"You mean like," Mia said, "Gaff, as in Finnegaff?"

"That is where we get the name for the title of our office," Marigaff said.

"Yes. Well," Finnegaff said. "Gaff was taken by greed, and gave in to the dark side of the Old Elf magic. Yes, it has a dark side. All things balance: '...Good is as true to evil as light is to dark'." He quoted one of the wizard's proverbs. "Gaff yearned to rule over the magic, so to speak, driven by evil and darkness. He wreaked devastation over the world for the next one hundred and twenty three years. To accomplish this, he drew on the Old Elf magic and created four dragons: Cwyth, Creggar, Cinndar, and Corgg, all evil, all bad. They were bound by Gaff's powerful control of the magic; they had little will of their own. He sent them out, one east, one west, one north and one south, to burn anything not natural and kill all that breathes. The entirety of Morrah nearly fell under the rule of Gaff, and had it not been for the secret council of elves, he might have succeeded. The twelve of the council had combined their power, and used it to create new magic. For years they toiled to alter the fabric of the magic until finally they broke Gaff. But try as they might, they failed to block the dark magic from our world. They called their new magic 'Saa', the Old Elven tongue word for light. They deemed the dark magic 'Essaa', the Old Elven tongue word for dark. Three of the dragons, having their will restored, went their own ways. Cwyth, you have met. Corgg elected to become keeper of the Land of Desolation. And Cinndar is caretaker of the Plains of the Great Beasts. Creggar still remains under the hold of Essaa, and Gaff retained enough power that he to this day controls Slagg. Slagg was once a beautiful land, but Gaff's desolation of it has been so complete that it is hardly inhabitable. It is there that the dragon Creggar is confined." He paused a moment to utter a few words to himself. As he spoke, the end of a doily he had been rolling into a tight tube sprung to flame, from which he lit his pipe.

Marigaff snatched the burning doily from the mischievous wizard and shook out the fire."Finnegaff! Do you mind?" Mia noticed the doily was unscathed.

He shrugged, having lit his pipe. "Yes. Well, the Book of Life," he continued, "was created to replenish the magic that is so intricate to our world. It cannot be burned nor destroyed. It cannot be memorized or copied or read except when it is time. The elves of old entrusted the care of it in the wisest of fashions to the giants. They are neutral; they are nearly immortal; they go unchallenged. And it is they that see the Reading of the Book of Life at end.

"The Book is given somewhere in the land and must be carried by an outworlder, for the outworlder does not feel Saa as a native does. If a Morrander were to Carry the Book of Life it would be a certain disaster, as any wizard would know at any time where the Book was. The Sorceress of Slagg, even her master, Gaff.

"Should a wizard taken by Essaa possess the Book of Life, he or she would delay the Reading and, as it delays, the bonds between good and evil would shift. And shift it would, for good or evil, it wouldn't matter. The bonds wouldn't balance, and it is those bonds that keep the two magics of Saa and Essaa from becoming intertwined. This would make Saa vulnerable to corruption, and, ultimately, work to Gaff's evil desire to rule Morrah.

"Gaff must not rule," Marigaff said.

Finnegaff nodded. "Yes. So. In these years Gaff has ensnared only three subjects: Linggaff,

third carrier of the Book of life, who is now deceased; Tonygaff, fallen while Carrying the Book of Life to be read; and Eringaff, who still seeks to possess the Book of Life for her master, Gaff himself. We believe she may want it for her own cruel intentions and attempt to overthrow her master."

"You said her name!" Mia said. "The third one!"

"Well yes. But we really should not use it," Finnegaff leaned a little closer. "She hears her own name through Essaa and can locate us when we speak it."

"But you just spoke it! Does that mean she knows we're here? That you just told her where we are?" Mia said.

"Only because she already knows where we are," Finnegaff said.

"It sounds like a lot of things about this adventure are kinda freaky. What did you mean when you said one of the carriers fell? Fell where?" Mia said.

"I mean to say that he was killed before he could Read."

"I could be killed doing this?!"

"You were almost eaten by trolls once," said a small voice from across the room.

"Belemeriath!" Mia said. She had neither seen nor heard him come into the room, and hadn't noticed him sitting on the edge of the teacup on which he perched. He hadn't shown his face since she had arrived at Marigaff's farm, and Mia had missed him in spite of him being an impossible little imp. Belemeriath had a certain, well, attraction about him. Mia found that she did like him after all, at least when she was in the mood for it. He lightened the load for her in many ways. When he buzzed her face and hovered inches from her, she didn't even flinch.

"I saved you from the trolls, Miagaff!" he said, puffing his chest.

"Yes, I remember. That was..."

"And after we parted, I told everyone about you, even King Kesteremiath!"

"The lesser fairy king," she said.

"You know him?"

"No. I just read about him in a book."

"King Kesteremiath is in a book? Great Saa!" Belemeriath said.

"He's been king for three thousand years," Marigaff said. "Naturally he's in the history books!"

"Yes. Well!" Finnegaff pulled the conversation back on subject. "As you may have guessed, the dark sorceress will be trying to get her hands on the Book of Life. She must get it and keep it from being read. If she does this, the very fabric of the magic will distort, and in a few months she'd gain power, and, ultimately, be it of her will or not, surrender the power to Gaff."

"And that isn't a good thing," Mia said.

"No, it's not! It's not!" Belemeriath said. "Things would go to Essaa if she..."

"Belemeriath! Watch your tongue!" Marigaff said, though she was smiling. Not that reprimand would do any good. Fairies were so free a spirit. She admired that in him.

"Our journey begins in the morning. We will go to Centauria, Mantadia, Elfwood and the Granite Mountains. At each of these places you will select one representative from the native race to accompany us. It is, Miagaff, your choice who goes, and you must choose with guidance from Saa. And don't let anyone influence your decision, either by bribe or by force. We then go to the giants, where you will Read from the Book of Life."

"And then I can go home?" She asked.

"Well, yes. That's how it works." As is often with the long-winded wizard, his pipe had extinguished. He paused to light it. This time he snatched the unsuspecting Belemeriath from the air and mumbled an invocation of Saa. Flame ignited one of the fairy's wings. Belemeriath struggled and yelled something in a strange language, most likely New Fairy. Finnegaff finished lighting his pipe, then tossed Belemeriath into the air, who recovered from the throw. He shook himself off while hovering. His wings were miraculously unharmed.

"I hate it when he does that!" He looked at Mia and laughed, then buzzed about the room at top speed. It occurred to Mia that there probably wasn't anything that bothered Belemeriath.

"I've something for you," Finnegaff said. He reached into a leather bag he had placed on the table between them when they first came into the room and pulled out a dark green velvet pouch, about the size of a slice of bread and twice as thick. From the bag he removed a dark brown leather-bound book. There were no words on the cover. It was, in fact, very plain. Aaramerielle gasped. Marigaff smiled a thin smile.

"This is the Book of Life, created by the elves of old. It must be read at the Glen of the Giants at the turn of four hundred years to replenish the balance of the magic of Saa. I now place it in the charge of Miagaff, the eighth Carrier of the Book of Life." The old wizard handed the book to Mia. She took it and reluctantly opened it. The yellowed, tattered pages were blank. "You can't read it now; you won't see anything on the pages until the giants invoke the magic at the Reading."

Mia closed the book. "This is what I'm supposed to carry?" She said, amazed at how plain and simple something so important was. She had expected it to be gold embossed, big, cumbersome, or a fancy scroll or certainly something more regal that gave one an impression of authority and majesty. But definitely not this.

"Don't let it out of your sight," Finnegaff said. "Place it in the satchel and hang it around your neck like a necklace. It's now in your keep, Miagaff. The dark sorceress must not get her hands on it. We can all feel the presence of the Book when a Morrander carries it. Should you become separated from it, you may locate it by following the strength of the feeling you are about to experience, as the closer you come to the Book, the stronger the feeling becomes."

The overwhelming bond that swept Mia when she placed the string of the satchel about her neck was soft and warm, one of contentment, perhaps even love. Indeed it was very powerful, and all consuming. At the moment she felt like she wanted nothing more than to hold the Book forever. No words could describe what she felt. And she knew beyond all doubt that she could distinguish this feeling from any other, no matter what.

"That is good, child," Marigaff said as she touched Mia on the forearm. "That is the best place for it. Keep it hidden from view. I see you feel the Book."

"Yes...yes, I do!" Mia said. "Wow!" She gently placed her hand on her blouse over the Book. She held it there a moment.

Finnegaff continued. "For the rest of the day we gather provisions and review maps. Let's go, if there are no more questions, and see about horses." Mia did have many questions, but the feeling she received when given the sacred Book of Life made her forget them all.

Marigaff, knowing the horses as she did, selected three steeds to carry the small party. Mia, however, insisted on taking Rosielle, a paint mare she had grown quite fond of while taking riding lessons. Marigaff knew the importance of allowing the Carrier of the Book of Life to select those that would accompany her to the Reading, be it race or animal. So Marigaff consented to Mia taking her, despite the old mare being a little slow. Finnegaff rode Grinnolle, his gray gelding of moderate temper. The third horse was Mandarin, a brown quarter horse accustomed to much handling.

Later they reviewed where they would be going and what they would be doing once they got there. "First," Finnegaff instructed, "We'll go to Centauria, where you'll select the third member of the party."

"Do we need a fairy representative?" Mia asked Finnegaff.

"Well, yes. It is deemed," Finnegaff answered. Belemeriath flew to Finnegaff's side, hovered there and bit his little fingers, but said not a word. He stared at Mia. His little body trembled.

"Can I choose now?" she asked. Belemeriath flew in short, quick upward arcs.

"Well, yes, if Saa directs you," Finnegaff said. He was looking at Belemeriath, who was so frantic that he had broken out in a sweat, something fairies do only on rare occasion.

Mia smiled at the quaking Belemeriath. "Okay. How do I do it?" She picked up her mug of cider and took a small sip

"Invoke Saa," Marigaff instructed, "as you would for fire."

"Oh!" Mia said. "I get it!" She closed her eyes, which she needn't do to invoke Saa; she just sometimes liked to, and gripped the mug with both hands. "Beke Belemeriath piar bonan duo?" (Shall Belemeriath go with us?) Upon hearing the invocation, Belemeriath flew to the tea cup he had perched on earlier and landed inside the cup and held on to the rim. His trembling was so violent that the cup rattled against the saucer.

Mia's eyes jerked wide open. The vision of Belemeriath that came to her was so sudden and strong that she dropped the mug of cider. "Belemeriath!" she exclaimed.

It took some doing to get Belemeriath to settle down. He was ecstatic. He flew about the room at high speed, laughed uncontrollably and rattled off a string of inhuman noises. Naturally they would not be human. He was not a human.

"The vision Saa gives for the selection of a representative is quite unmistakable," Marigaff remarked. She handed a towel to Mia.

"Wow!" Mia said. She took the towel. "No kidding!"

From Centauria they would go to Mantadia, then to Elfwood to consult Queen Ronnameth and to select an Elven representative. They would need to find the Mumbwe, who were nomadic throughout Awlland and Elfwood, though Finnegaff claimed the Mumbwe would most likely find them first. Their next destination would be the Granite Mountains. Finally they would make their way to the Glen of Giants, where the Book of Life would be read. If all went well. Finnegaff insisted they keep their party small to not draw attention to themselves, and told Mia not to invite just anyone to join them.

Mostly they would make time during the day, but in a few places they might have need to travel by cover of darkness. They would make camps along the way except for a very few instances where they planned to board with friends, ones Finnegaff knew he could trust. Food they would take, find, or purchase. Using Saa to procure food, or for any reason, would send a beacon to any wizard who might be interested in their location, so using Saa was not an option. Mia was given a short sword and a small knife. Part of her training while at Marigaff's Farm was in using this very sword, though her instructor did not believe her ready to use the weapon yet and warned that she might be more danger to herself than to an adversary. Neither did she think herself competent with the weapon. She was quite unable to imagine herself actually using it for what it was designed. But if it came down to it, Finnegaff would rather she not be empty handed. It was also recommended to Mia that she not let Dielielle leave her side. She knew that if she was separated from her staff, it would find her, but do not tempt fate, Marigaff had said. "Nay shall they cleave, not by any choice, lest a wizard leave his staff in unattend. Lo, the staff lives! It will seek its master in all ways, for it is faithful." She knew this proverb well.

After a quiet supper, Finnegaff and Marigaff took ale with old friends. Mia, Aaramerielle and Belemeriath visited around the yard fire pit with a fire Mia started with Saa. It flamed small, lighting their somewhat serious faces. Their conversation took lulls as they talked about nothing in particular. They had been invited to join Finnegaff and Marigaff and planned to do so soon, but Mia expressed a need for a little quiet time first, in the good company of Aaramerielle. Aaramerielle was more than happy to comply; she felt close to Mia, a friend; not withstanding that being in the presence of the Carrier of the Book of Life was, by her or anyone else's standards, a high honor.

"The dark sorceress is looking for me," Mia said. She perked up. Her eyes opened wide. "You know what we should do? We should send a few people dressed like Finnegaff and me in the other direction and make her think that it's us!"

"She would know," Aaramerielle said. "The route you'll take is the route that every Reader has taken since the first Reading. She already knows when and where you are going to be."

"But why not go a different way?"

"Well, I don't know. It's just how it's always been done."

"Yeah, I know. It's just that, well, I'm kinda scared about the whole thing."

"Well, you have Finnegaff to take care of you."

"And me! And me!" Belemeriath said.

"Still," Mia said, "it'd be nice to have a diversion."

"We could ask Finnegaff," Aaramerielle said. "It couldn't hurt."

They went to the dining hall, where Finnegaff was with Marigaff, "partying", as Mia termed it, with a few score others. Aaramerielle told her that it was regarded as 'honor to tradition' before the Carrying of the Book of Life. It might even be a genuine tradition this time, she added, which Mia didn't quite get. She also reminded her that this sort of thing was common for wizards. Wizards, she said, could find an 'honor to tradition' for just about any occasion.

They found Finnegaff sitting at a long table with his arm around Marigaff's shoulder, laughing at something one of the stable boys had said. Everyone had a mug before them. Wooden buckets dotted the tables half full of ale, and a young girl was fetching refills from the keg in the kitchen. Cheese trays half gone, sliced roast getting cold, fruits with vegetables about, as much on the floor as on the tables were everywhere. Mia had never seen the place in such a mess! The people partying were loud, and the music from a three-piece instrumental group that played the strangest instruments Mia had ever seen, providing music that was not quite to Mia's tastes, raised everybody's volume level a notch or two.

"Behold our honored guest!" Finnegaff said. He held his mug aloft, and in doing so, slopped ale on Marigaff, who laughed at the mishap. Despite the apparent confusion, every mug in the hall rose.

Someone yelled from across the hall. "Hail the Carrier of the Book of Life!" Calls of 'hail' parted every lip. Mia felt her face turning red. All drank, cheered and applauded.

"Not expecting this, were you, child?" Marigaff said.

"Finnegaff! Miagaff has a good idea!" Belemeriath circled Finnegaff's head about two feet out, not taking his eyes from him. Mia wondered how he did that. He could fly up, down, right, left, even backward very fast while changing directions with equal ease.

Finnegaff held his finger as one would for a bird to perch. "Come hither, my old friend!" Finnegaff slurred his words, the ale long since having taken effect. Belemeriath immediately perched on his finger. He stood with his two tiny feet on the intoxicated wizard's weaving digit. His tiny body weight shifted easily to keep his balance. "You are a most delightful fairy, Belemeriath. I am so fond of you. Have I ever told you that?"

Belemeriath was eating it up. With his hands clasped in front of him and arms straight, he drew his chin into his neck, mocking shyness. "Yes, once." Belemeriath snapped out of it as quickly as he'd been taken by the compliment. "Finnegaff! Miagaff has an idea for the journey! Tell him, Miagaff! Tell him!"

Finnegaff looked at Mia, a silly grin on his face. "Dear Mia!" He drooled out. "Dear, dear Mia! Mean, Miagaff! Sorry 'bout that! I will always listen to anything you say. Whaiis it, dear Mmmmmia? Gaff?"

"Well," she said, "I thought that maybe we could go a different way on the journey and send a few people disguised as us on the usual way we'd go." Finnegaff was quiet, thinking. "You know. To throw the dark sorceress off our track."

"I...I don't know..." Finnegaff got serious. "We' always taked a same route."

"But why?" Aaramerielle asked. "Do they have to take the same route?" Belemeriath was still on Finnegaff's finger when Finnegaff reached for his mug of ale, having forgotten that the fairy was there. Belemeriath hovered in the very spot he'd been in when perched on the finger. He hardly moved when Finnegaff withdrew.

"Well, yesss en no." Finnegaff stroked his beard. "Mean, yes an' no! I s'ppose we could go

"Another way. Why?"

"Because," Belemeriath yelled in his little voice, "If we send some humans dressed like you and Miagaff, Erin...I mean, the dark sorceress will think it's really you and go after the wrong party!"

"Thassa won'erful idea!" Marigaff slurred as bad, if not worse, than Finnegaff. She hit him on the shoulder. "Finn, why didn't you ever think of that?"

"Well, I guess I never thought of it is prob'ly why! Mia, dear! Thassa truly splendid idea! But the party tha's supposed to be us wo' be in likely peril!" He held a finger aloft in attempt to look sophisticated. "I meant, Miagaff. Sorry."

"I thought of that, too." Mia smiled as her idea began to be accepted. "One of them needs to be a wizard! That way, if they're in any kind of trouble, the wizard can use Saa to get them out of trouble!"

"Yes, well, lemme think on this." Finnegaff kept stroking his beard. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all, and maybe she was in for a little rejection.

"Okay!" Finnegaff stood. "I've thought 'bout it. We'll do it!" Mia shook her head and exchanged a knowing glance with Aaramerielle. She loved some of Finnegaff's peculiarities. Some. "Who can we get to do this?"

"I would like to go," volunteered Aaramerielle. She hadn't said anything when they were first discussing the diversion about wanting to go! Mia hadn't planned on the decoy being Aaramerielle!

"Amarellielle," he slurred her name, "dear, I don' think yer a strong 'nough wizard to stand up to a...a...a shadowrought or wha'ever!" Finnegaff said.

"But I am!" Marigaff said.

"No, no, wait a minute!" Finnegaff, for the first time since Mia had met him, looked surprised.

"I'll shall masqu'rade as yourself, dear Finngaff, and Aaramerielle as Miagaff!" Marigaff was all over the idea. She was all over Finnegaff, too. She had her right arm wrapped about his neck. The other negligently held a mug of ale, her face mere inches from his. "You shall jus' have t' choose 'nother route for your journey, dear Finngaff!"

Finnegaff considered. "Yes. Yes, then. But you must return here," he said to Marigaff as head of the Council of Wizards rather than as a friend, "as soon as the en'my learns who you rilly are. An' get message to me that you been found out. Those are the conditions."

"Of course," Marigaff smiled and patted him on the cheek, perhaps a bit too hard. He squinted, though he did not move. Finnegaff was doing a part of his job that he did very well, and Marigaff never questioned him in such matters.

They left the party in the dining hall and convened in Marigaff's quarters to revise their plans. They poured over maps; they studied parchments until a very late hour, but would have been done much sooner had the two wizards not been so full of ale. They finally agreed that they must get some sleep and adjourned.

Mia was very tired when she and Aaramerielle took to their respective beds. Many things ran through her head; many she understood, many she didn't, but all of it was exciting. Soon sleep overtook her, and she slept in peace and contentment.

She woke early as the first signs of light changed the landscape to deep blue. Not quite ready to arise just yet, Mia tried to go back to sleep. Though not asleep, she felt like she was, yet awake in a dreamless sleep, as if all thoughts were on stand by. She drifted off to sleep, or something like it.

Wide awake, she pulled the hairbrush through her hair. She looked at the door to her bedroom. Her own bedroom. On planet earth. Her hand weakened. Trembling, she dropped the brush.

Chapter 9

"Shit!" She yelled. "Shit! Shit!" She went to her bedroom window and tore open the long, yellow curtains. She looked out the window at the late fall afternoon. She couldn't think of what to do. Two steps to her bedside, fists clenched, back to the window. "Shit!" she yelled again. Her pulse was frantic and her breathing came in rapid, choking sobs. The bedroom door opened and her mother poked her head into the room.

"What's all the swearing about?" she said.

"MOM!!!" Mia ran to her mother and nearly knocked her off her feet as she embraced her. "God, I've missed you!" She fell into her arms, crying in near hysterics. Her mother wasn't quite ready for the outburst, this sort of behavior being very unlike Mia. Lori had no idea what was bothering her daughter, especially the 'I've missed you' statement. She led Mia back into the room to the edge of the bed and closed the door. Mia cried in rapid sobs and clutched her mother.

Her mother waited until the tears had slowed to speak. "What's wrong, dear?"

Mia looked up through swollen eyes. "I was in Awlland, with Finn...Finn..." She sobbed a few times. "This wizard. And a fairy named Belemeriath. I, I was at this place where they train wizards, 'cause I am one."

"Oh, love, you had a nightmare. Sometimes they're scary."

Mia pushed away. "No! No! I mean, I've been there for more than a month!"

Lori Murphy looked at her daughter and held her hand. "Is this something to do with school?"

"Mom! I was here, here in my room. I was doing my homework, and then went to this place! Haven't you noticed I've been away for a whole month?!"

"Sweetheart, I've seen you every day for the last month. What do you mean, you've been away for a whole month?"

Mia said nothing for a few seconds. "Mom, this was too real. I got hit in the head when I was attacked by these ugly trolls, and a fairy rescued me from their dungeon. I just spent a month...a MONTH...at a training place for wizards because I have to carry the Book of Life to be read every four hundred years. OOOHHHH!" Red faced, she struck her legs with her fists. Several times. She recalled that she'd been told time passes differently on Morrah than it did on Earth. "I...I don't know what happened." She bowed her head and kept it there. Her mother held her close. Right now she didn't want to be held.

Mia's mother picked up on her desire to be left alone. She exited the room, closed the door behind her and went downstairs to tell her husband what had happened. He dismissed it as a bad dream, in light of Lori's insistence that she thought something might be wrong with their child. He claimed that it was some teenager thing. When dinner was close to ready, her mother broke her cardinal 'mealtime is family time' rule by allowing Mia to be excused. When Susan called later that evening, Mia declined the call. She stayed in her room all that evening and slept little that night. She refused to go to school the next day, even when her father threatened her. She spent most of the day curled up in her bed with the covers drawn up tight.

That afternoon, the windy weather brought light snow. Susan called to see how her friend was doing. Mia did want to talk to her badly, and Susan would understand. She took the call on the phone in her room.

"Mia, girlfriend! I missed you today! Are you sick or what?"

"Susan! You're not gonna believe what's happened to me!"

"I believe everything you say. It's not like you're a liar or anything!"

"Uh...Susie," Mia said. "I went somewhere. To another world. So much happened!"

"Oookay! I know it's not drugs. What do you mean, another world?"

"Another world!" she exclaimed. "Susie, can you come over? I need to talk to you."

Susan was there in two minutes. They sat at the edge of Mia's bed as Susan, being her ever patient self, listened to Mia recount her adventures to the best of her abilities.

"So there's this sorceress who's out to get you and this wizard."

"No! Eringaff...that's the sorceress...wants to get the Book of Life, and I've got it!"

"Okay," Susan took a deep breath. "And you can start fires and things with magic."

"Yes."

"Can you do it now?"

"No. I already tried. Saa doesn't work here."

"Who?"

By the end of the evening Susan had convinced Mia to say nothing about what happened to anyone. Mia knew that Susan, her best friend since before kindergarten, had always thought her stable, not one to make up stories, not even little ones. Now Susie sounded like she thought Mia was going crazy, really crazy. Mia promised her she would go to school the next day, as long as she could walk with her. She didn't have to ask; they walked to school together every day.

The next day on the way to school Mia said little other than a few attempts to get Susan to verify that she didn't think she was insane, to which she was given evasive answers. All day she could think of nothing but Morrah, the excitement it offered, her duty there. Now that she had finally made it home, she found that she didn't want to stay there. Her sense of responsibility to Morrah was overwhelming. She thought of Finnegaff and Marigaff, Belemeriath and Aaramerielle. What would they do without her? Who would read the Book of Life? She drew a map of Morrah in English class, Ms. Langdon's class. Ms. Langdon took it away from her. The sensitive teacher did so subtly; she'd noticed Mia's dark mood, believed something might be amiss, and made a mental note to keep an eye on her.

The next day during lunch, Ms. Langdon was sitting on a bench at the edges of the school ground reading a book entitled 'The Troubled Teenager'. She was always reading books of similar genre. Mia was strolling about some nearby trees and hadn't seen the teacher.

I wonder, Mia thought. She looked at the trunks of the trees for the design of a face. Clutching the hairbrush that had accompanied her to Morrah (she kept it with her always), she stepped back from the tree and stared into the towering branches.

"Tree!" she yelled. "If you can hear me, do this with your branches." She held her arms above her head, bent to the left and held that pose for perhaps fifteen seconds. She gave up and dropped her arms to her side.

"Tree! I know you can hear me!" She looked at the bark. No faces. She stepped toward the tree and kicked it hard, toe first. She stood there for a moment as if nothing had happened, then limped away.

Ms. Langdon hadn't taken her eyes from Mia the whole time. She knew Mia somewhat, knew that this sort of behavior exhibited by other children might not be concerning. For Mia, however, it was way out of character. On a hunch, she had kept the map she'd taken from Mia. She went to her classroom to retrieve it. She approached the school counselor and told her the story. The counselor asked Mia's other teachers to observe her. Of five of them, two had already noticed something different about her. The weekend passed. By Wednesday, all five teachers had noted remarkable changes in Mia. That afternoon she found herself in the counselor's office with Ms. Langdon and the map of Morrah she'd drawn. She was unwilling to confess anything about the map or of Morrah for fear they would think she was nuts. Thursday morning found Lori Murphy in conference with the same counselor, accompanied by the concerned Ms. Langdon.

Mia's mother confirmed the same withdrawn behavior at home that Mia had exhibited at school. She would come home from school and lock herself in her room. Mia kept any conversation Lori attempted to have with her minimal. She ate little and stopped showering, for the most part, until forced. She was a regular space cadet: she left the house without her jacket one fifteen-degree morning; she'd tie just one shoe. When Lori Murphy would remind her about the other shoe, she would shrug it off, then tie it in a sloppy manner. One evening, her younger brother had heard her talking out loud in her room. He alerted his mother, who heard the same: Mia was talking in another language, or trying to. Mia didn't speak a second language, and it wasn't a language that Lori recognized. She referred to it as 'speaking in tongues'. She refused to do her homework, quietly, not in any rebellious form, but more out of a lack of interest. Not that she was all that interested before, but at least she would do it. The counselor reported that her teachers were collectively observing the same inattention, some describing it as listlessness. Mia would sometimes be seen staring off into space without blinking. Not that she was like that all the time, but certainly much of it.

When asked if anything besides Mia's unusual behavior was different at home, Lori Murphy assured them that things were as usual. Lori remarked on the evening's events following Mia's dream, and tagged it as the turning point from the 'old Mia' to the Mia she had become. She expressed guilt: 'where did we go wrong?' 'What happened to my little girl?' Mia's father labeled it as a phase their daughter was going through, which was his usual means of parenting. The counselor recommended that they seek treatment from a better qualified source. She had a referral for them, a psychiatrist she'd known for years that specialized in adolescents.

Dr. Beverly Woodrow saw Mia that Friday evening. She introduced herself, then led Mia to her office. Dr. Bev, as she preferred to be called, dressed casually. She wore blue jeans with a tee shirt. Mia thought her nice on first impression. She was cool, too, because she wasn't wearing some suit thing. They visited for a short while before Dr. Bev made her move.

"So, Mia. What's going on?"

Mia clammed up. She visibly tightened the grip she had on her hairbrush. Dr. Bev waited patiently.

"Did you know that whatever we talk about is just between you and me?" She waited a little more. She was about to ask Mia about her social life.

"I...something happened to me." Mia glanced at the closed door, then looked up at Dr. Bev, who sat back, ready to listen. "I had this, well, dream. And it seemed so real."

"Sometimes they do."

"No, I mean real real. Where I was in this dream, I was there for more than a month. A whole month! And no time passed while I was gone."

"What was the dream about?"

"If it was a dream. I don't think it was." She looked at the doctor in quick glances. "I was in this place, a world called Morrah. When I got there, this Tree told me to go west, and I did. I thought it was a dream at first, too. I tried to wake myself up." Mia spent some time telling the trustworthy Dr. Bev all about her time in Awlland. Mia told of most of what she could remember. When she was done, she asked Dr. Bev if she believed her.

Dr. Bev assured Mia that it wasn't important whether she believe her or not, so to take a break, they talked of other things. Things in school. Things at home. Things with her friends. Mia really did like this lady. She seemed to understand, if not sympathize.

After the session, Dr. Bev assured Lori that she believed Mia to be no present danger to herself or others, but would like to see her the following Tuesday. They parted with a warm hug.

Monday was the worst day Mia had since her trans location from Morrah. She was in school, in a math class at the end of the day and was nearly falling asleep. As she drifted toward sleep, she thought she felt like she had right before she trans located to Awlland. When she woke herself up, she'd expected to see Finnegaff or someone or something from Morrah. Yet she saw only the classroom. It was too much for her. She stood and yelled at the top of her lungs that she wanted to 'go back', then crumpled to the floor and broke into tears. The teacher escorted her from the class to the counselor's office, where she was detained for a short while until her mother could get there. Lori felt her heart sink when she arrived at the school, for she beheld the face of the girl who was her first born in only distant recognition. She was very scared. She called her husband, insistent that she take Mia to Dr. Bev's office a day early.

Dr. Bev was in an appointment when they arrived. She saw them as soon as the appointment was over. She talked with Mia, then with Lori. She told Lori she suspected schizophrenia, but it was a little early to know for sure, and that she would like to conduct a few tests. She said that if it was schizophrenia, there were a host of excellent medications available. That boosted Lori's attitude a little. She then learned that the condition might be life long, would likely get much worse, and would require medications for life. This slung her hopes in the other direction. Dr. Bev also telephoned her friend, the counselor at the high school, with whom she'd worked with for quite a few years. She then spoke with Mia and Lori.

"I think there may be something to this and I'm recommending in-patient observation," she said. Mia knew what this meant.

"No! No! I, I can't! My friends will..." Mia knew she wasn't going to talk her way out of it. Not after what happened in school earlier that day. They made arrangements to meet at a local hospital that supported a psychiatric observation unit located a few blocks away, where they would admit Mia. Dr. Bev met them there and saw them through the admissions process.

Dr. Bev met with Mia in private in Mia's hospital room for her last appointment of the day, even though she had been scheduled to leave an hour earlier. "It's not that you're bad," she said. "It's more like you're sick. Our bodies get sick and we have to take medication to fix what's the matter with them. Sometimes it's the same with our heads."

Mia already knew this. She sat on the edge of the bed, feet dangling, still in street clothes, and fidgeted with her hairbrush. The doctor went on: "There's a few things I want you to do for me. First..." Mia blocked out the doctor's voice to the point of utter silence, yet not intentionally. She felt numb, distant. No thought, no feeling, no connection.

Chapter 10

"Mia!" Aaramerielle gently shook her. Aaramerielle had been awake, but didn't want to get up so soon, knowing that it would be the last night in her own bed for quite some time. Mia sat up and looked at Aaramerielle in a daze. She suddenly sprung to life.

"Aara..." she yelled. "Aaramerielle! I...I was...I," her breathing came in ragged pants. She broke into a cold sweat.

"What's wrong?" Aaramerielle held her friend's shoulders. Mia responded by grabbing Aaramerielle's elbows with an iron grip.

"I was just there," she said. "Home!"

Aaramerielle knew of Mia's relentless desire to return to her home, her sorrow, and that she missed her loved ones. "Really? Did it go well?"

"Well, yes and no." She gave herself a weak laugh for what she'd said. "I couldn't stop thinking about this place. They think I'm nuts and put me in a mental hospital."

"What's that?"

"It's a hospital where people go whose brains go wacky." They looked at each other for a moment. "Aaramerielle," Mia said. She choked back tears. "Why is it that the people where I'm from can't accept that you guys even are here, and you so easily think...they're...okay?" She knew she hadn't said it right, though she also knew that Aaramerielle understood. She couldn't control the tears, and she fell into the elf's comforting arms. She glimpsed through her confused thoughts: Aaramerielle is a good friend. A real friend. The tears soon ceased, and Mia recounted her trip home to the elf. After some discussion, the two girls made their way to the dining hall.

The dining hall was already bustling. Mia caught sight of Belemeriath, who was flirting with a group of giggling girls at the other side of the busy room. As soon as he realized Mia was there, he bee-lined straight for her, over the heads of everyone, leaving his would be's in mid-conversation.

"Great day, Miagaff," he said, inches from her face. Tears welled up in Mia's eyes.

"What did I say? What's wrong?" If a fairy had ever sounded desperate, it was Belemeriath at that moment.

"I missed you, fairy," she said. "If I could hug you, I would!"

Belemeriath whooped as he turned aerial somersaults. He came to a quick stop a few feet from Mia, who was wiping away tears on the sleeve of her light blue tunic. "Missed me?" he asked. "What do you mean, missed me?"

"Last night, I went home. I was there for a long time." Belemeriath understood. He knew something of the trans location outworlders experienced, that times between the worlds somehow were not synchronous.

"I always miss you when you're gone," he said.

Mia held her finger aloft as she'd seen Finnegaff do. Belemeriath immediately landed on it. He was amazingly light. He stayed there until they were seated, babbling the whole time. One of the students, a young girl, brought drinks to their table, which reminded Belemeriath of the task in which he was previously engaged. He promptly flew straight away, back to the group of giggling girls. Mia smiled, unaware that the others in her party were watching her. She was glad to be back.

After breakfast, Aaramerielle and Marigaff did their best to disguise themselves as Mia and Finnegaff. Marigaff didn't make a bad Finnegaff. Aaramerielle, however, was four inches taller than Mia. She walked differently, and her mannerisms were more hyper. It was close enough, Mia thought. Finnegaff complimented her several times on her decoy idea. Mia was quite surprised that they hadn't thought of it. They removed their costumes and stowed them for later, when they could leave in stealth.

Marigaff took private audience with Mia before they went their separate ways. "I have something for you," she said. She closed the door to Marigaff's quarters. Marigaff's room seemed particularly quiet just then. Marigaff held in her outstretched hand four gold coins, each the same size, each bearing different faces on the obverse sides.

"These coins, wrought by the Elves of old, are what we call Stracombe. They enable a wizard to access parts of Saa that he or she would not ordinarily be able to. There are few left; these have been in our care a long, long time, and as far as we can tell, only two others exist.

"The first," she held the coin between her fingers in such a way that Mia could see the detailed picture of a waterfall pouring into a small pond, "is the Stracombe to water. Should you invoke Saa as you normally would and toss this coin at your desire, Saa will produce greatly magnified results. Greatly magnified! It will alter water in ways that Saa otherwise will not." She dropped the first coin into Mia's hand.

"The second Stracombe is to fire." The coin had the image of a big fireplace blazing in a dark room. "As you know, Saa will give us fire, yet only in small amounts. Toss this coin as you call upon Saa for your wishes and it can produce great fires." This coin, too, she gave to Mia.

"The third coin is the Stracombe to wind." The picture on the coin was of leaves blowing. "Should you require wind, cast this coin at your concern as you call upon Saa for your want. It shall produce what you need in quantity." The coin clinked into Mia's hand.

"The fourth is the Stracombe to rock." The coin had a picture of a rocky cliff side. "As with the others, when Saa is called upon, toss this coin at the place of effect and it shall do as you command. Be careful with them." She dropped the remaining coin into Mia's hand. "They are all very powerful. The last one once flattened an entire mountain."

Mia looked at the heavy gold coins. They were beautiful, unscratched and perfect. She thought it an enormous power to be charged with. "Well, what if Finnegaff carries them for me?"

Marigaff raised her eyebrows in alarm. "Oh, no, child! You are the Carrier of the Book of Life. And no one must know you have them in your purse. They are widely sought after; care for them well. And do not tell Finnegaff, either." Mia looked quickly at her, and Marigaff read her look. She smiled. "Finnegaff and I don't always see eye to eye on everything, and he believes the Stracombe should not leave the protection of the farm. I did not hand them to you entirely on my own accord, either." She held a palm up toward Mia as she spoke. "And if we never use them for our most important causes, what good are they?"

"What if they fall into the wrong hands?"

"They won't."

"How do you know they won't?"

"I don't. I'm telling you to not let that happen."

Mia slipped the Stracombe into a deep pocket that Aaramerielle had sewn into her shirt. Marigaff nodded in agreement with her hiding place. "We should be on our way, dear child. And Miagaff?" Mia saw concern, perhaps even worry, in the wise sorceress' eyes.

"Yes?" she asked.

Marigaff took both of Mia's hands in hers. "May Saa guide you."

The entire population of Marigaff's farm had turned out. Dozens, perhaps a hundred, were gathered at the stables to see them off. The horses for the party had been packed and were ready to go. Marigaff would leave with Aaramerielle later, having agreed with Mia's suggestion that they be the only ones who knew about the decoy plan. Mia verified with one of the proverbs to her teacher: 'Sooner the greater tongue will betray the innocent.'

Marigaff walked beside Mia as they joined the others to bid their many good-byes. Mia embraced Aaramerielle, tears in each of their eyes. Theramon the stable boy, a kind thirteen year old that had taught Mia much about horses, held the reins of Mia's horse. He had a crush on Mia. She thought it cute, for he was a wholesome and quiet boy with interests that extended not much beyond horses. He blushed when he gave Mia a shy hug, then handed her the reins to her horse in a ceremonial fashion. He took a step back, stumbled in his giddiness, and did not see the horse behind him. The horse spooked. It jumped and kicked, landing a solid blow to Theramon's rib cage.

Theramon went down. Another boy calmed the spooked horse. It all happened in the blink of an eye: Theramon lay upon the ground in a fetal position, choking for breath. Marigaff ran to his aid, as did several of the others. They rolled him onto his back. When Marigaff ripped his shirt off, Mia could see the caved in ribs.

"Get my medical bag!" she yelled at the first face she looked at. "Now! RUN!" The girl she spoke to took off at a full sprint. Theramon was gasping for breath. He choked once very hard, though he drew no breath to replace it. He was unable to breathe! Blood trickled from his mouth. Mia looked on in horror. She was compelled to do something.

The feeling was uncontrollable. It was as if she were not responsible for her actions, for indeed, she was not. Saa rushed through her in a torrent. She held Dielielle erect and spoke in loud confidence. "Facas su rotatta pon nah eme anso shemeo!" (Let the injury of this one be healed!) She felt more than compelled. She was driven; destined. She lowered her staff gently and touched it to the stable boy's forehead. Immediately Theramon stiffened. He did not breathe with the action, even though Mia could tell he was trying. Mia's hand went to her mouth and she almost dropped Dielielle. She feared she'd just killed him. They all watched the depressed ribcage swell to its normal size. Theramon coughed some more and started to breathe in gurgling long breaths. The gurgling ceased after another cough. Marigaff held him close, blood all over her dress. He sobbed in her arms. But Marigaff wasn't looking at him. She was looking at Mia, as was everyone. The only sound was Theramon's sobbing and the returning running footsteps of the girl Marigaff had sent for the medical bag, who stopped next to Marigaff and handed it to her. Marigaff, not removing her eyes from Mia, shook her head to indicate she needed it no longer. The silence was deafening.

Mia's voice shook through tears. "You told me not to use Saa unless it was an emergency! I just thought that this was an emergency!" She tried not to cry.

Finnegaff stood beside her. He gently yet firmly took her hand in his and raised it to chest level. "Miagaff, dear," he looked into her leaking eyes. "Very few have been graced by Saa to have the power to heal, the Shemesaa! This even I cannot do!"

"Nor I," Marigaff said. "We have known but two before you with Shemesaa." Theramon was now being helped to his feet, his youthful pride taking over as he brushed the dirt from his blood-stained clothing. "She is more powerful than we thought," Marigaff said to Finnegaff.

"Well, yes," he replied. "Yes."

Not long after Theramon's accident, Finnegaff and Mia and Belemeriath set upon their adventure to the hailing cheers of the entire assembly of Marigaff's Farm. Down the tree-lined lane they went, destined for neighboring Elfwood. They were well out of sight before they could hear them no more.

Belemeriath hovered in front of Mia, flying backward. "Miagaff! You were great!"

Mia smiled a weak smile at her little friend. "Finnegaff," she said. "What happened back there?"

"It was Shemesaa, the healing gift of Saa." He appeared studious. "It's apparent that Saa is strong in you. Very strong indeed."

"But, it wasn't me." She shook her head. "I just got this feeling. No, this urge, almost like an order, to save Theramon."

"That, dearest, is Saa. You had the desire to help; Saa showed you what to do."

"I didn't even start the invocation! It just happened. And I wasn't the one who controlled where my staff touched Theramon. It's like he made me do it."

"Hmm. Interesting," Finnegaff said. "Well. Yes. Anyway, Saa is not a 'he'. Saa just is. That was a good thing you did with Saa. If it were a bad thing, an immoral thing, Saa wouldn't have let you do it."

"'Be not Saa for the good, the whole, the pure of Morrah? Thence shall provision become the bride's maid.'" She quoted a proverb.

"You've been reading, I see!"

"Aaramerielle told me a lot. She loves the proverbs."

"And she's pretty!" Belemeriath added. "But not as pretty as you, Miagaff!" He blushed when Mia smiled at him, which she was beginning to believe he could do at will, for in fact, he could.

Finnegaff ignored the fairy. "Yes. Well, that she does. Truly a historian and philosopher, that one!"

A few minutes passed before Mia responded. "I could see that."

"See what?"

"Aaramerielle being a philosopher. She's real smart. And very nice. And she runs, too. I like her a lot."

"Yes. I like her, too. She's dedicated. Few show the drive she does in her studies," Finnegaff said. "Uh, Miagaff?" Mia met Finnegaff's serious eyes. "Be careful with Saa, child. Be very careful."

The hilly plains they traveled through soon turned to mountains. By nightfall they were following a stream into the foothills. Pine forests broken by willow thickets dominated the foliage. The stream now cascaded over rocks, eddying in pools where before it had wandered noiselessly in most places. The mountains that formed the walls of the canyon were steep, not quite cliffs, and rose many feet from the canyon floor. Belemeriath, a capable, thorough scout, had selected the site for their first camp well inside the borders of Elfwood. Finnegaff had hoped to reach Elfwood by nightfall, since darkhounds entered the land only very reluctantly. They put the horses into a small pasture to graze right next to the outcrop of rock where they bedded down, purposely selected by the ever-competent Belemeriath. They built a fire of old, dead wood. Finnegaff warned Mia against taking live wood in Elfwood; the trees would not set well with it. After a casually taken meal of the more perishable of their stores, they slept to the sound of light rain. The campsite was perfect. The rain came from the north, the outcrop of rock faced south. With this arrangement, they managed to stay dry.

At first light they warmed up some tea, rounded up the horses, saddled them and packed their belongings. They continued their way up the narrowing, twisting canyon. Mia felt very much at home in terrain such as this. Going was easy as the path they took was well traveled and designed primarily for trade, trodden wide enough through the canyon to allow the passage of wagons.

Sometime in the afternoon they came upon a large meadow. The stream slowed down to snake through the beautiful half-mile wide by three-mile long valley. The path followed the stream to some degree, but in a straighter line, yet chose to cut corners where the stream opted to wind at tight arcs. The vast meadow was only sparsely wooded, mostly comprised of foot tall grasses that intermingled with acres of blue and yellow flowers. Belemeriath would retrieve an occasional motherberry for Mia, which had been her favorite ever since Belemeriath introduced her to them on the very same day he had rescued her from the trolls. And he would remind her frequently of both of these, and any other instance where he was credited with valor.

They were almost to the end of the beautiful valley when Mia's horse Rosielle shied. Finnegaff's Grinnolle stopped in his tracks and refused to go another step. The third horse, Mandarin, always did what Grinnolle did. Something was wrong; the horses had sensed or smelled it. Belemeriath hadn't seen anything unusual. The horses refused go further. In seconds they learned why.

Out of nowhere stepped six people. Mia recognized them as Mumbwe. They were right there, not more than twenty yards from where the horses had stopped. If Finnegaff had known they were there, he had not indicated such. Mia had certainly not seen them. But they were easy to see now, their long silky loose fitting clothes being of brilliant color. They all wore jewelry, very nice jewelry, bracelets of gold or silver, rings, earrings, nose rings, necklaces that glittered in the afternoon sun. All were very clean in spite of being out here in the middle of nowhere, even though they were barefoot to the last person. Some carried a bow with a quiver of arrows, some short swords. Except for the wizard, they were all well armed.

Three of them were men, the others women, one of the women wearing the wizard's hat of office. They were all tall, six feet six inches to seven feet, and appeared to be in tremendous physical shape. Their skin was dark brown like the Polynesian people Mia knew from her home, or maybe like the kind of people who spend most of their lives at the beach. The one wearing the wizard's hat smiled as she approached them. Mia could not help but to notice her eyes, a stunning shade of light blue. Though they were dressed in what were certainly festive colors, they had an intimidating air about them. Mia knew them from her studies at Marigaff's Farm to be allies, a peace loving people who stood for good principals. Still, they were a big peace loving people.

Belemeriath needed no invitation to begin greeting the nearest of them. "Great day, Semeterrah!" He flew in front of her face. She smiled and nodded. He dashed to the next Mumbwe. "Great day, Delpheterem!"

"Great day, friend Belemeriath!" Delpheterem spoke in a medium toned voice, surprising Mia. She was expecting, from his appearance, low bass.

Belemeriath darted to the Mumbwe wearing the wizard's hat. She held a finger aloft for him to land on. "Great day, Lady Ameretegaff!" He lit upon her finger and fluttered his wings, something he did when flirting.

"And a great day to you, friend Belemeriath, sweetest of all fairies!" Belemeriath blushed and puffed out his chest, the expression of an emotion-driven mannerism foreign to most species. Ameretegaff, who was known from Awlland to Mantadia for her extraordinary charisma, had a soft speaking voice that would soothe even the most distraught, clear, full of truth, lovingly compassionate. Mia could feel her radiant presence, one of beauty, one of trust, one of motherly love. She couldn't take her eyes from the wizard.

"Dear Finnegaff!" Ameretegaff greeted him. "Welcome! We're honored by your visit! Won't you join us for evening supper?" She cradled her staff in one arm. Belemeriath stood on the upturned palm of the other, still puffing his chest.

Finnegaff had since dismounted. He stood before Ameretegaff and took both of her hands into both of his. Belemeriath flew to the other Mumbwe women to strike up conversation. Ameretegaff responded as old dear friends would, holding his hands warmly.

"Dear Ameretegaff! My dear Ameretegaff! Why, we'd be delighted! Allow me to introduce to you Miagaff." He released his hold on the beautiful Ameretegaff. He motioned to Mia, still on her horse. "Miagaff, Ameretegaff, Mumbwe of Elfwood and Lady of Peace."

"Do step down from your horse, dear child." Ameretegaff held a hand upward to aid her dismount. "Allow us to care for the weary animal." She stroked Rosielle's jowls with her other hand.

Mia had heard of the Lady of Peace. The descriptions given her in text or through discussion did her no justice. Mia thought that it wasn't that Ameretegaff appeared regal or saintly, nothing like that. Or official or powerful (though surely on both counts she was!) It was the love and serenity of Ameretegaff's gifts that were amplified when Mia took the offered hand, warm, soft, and strong. She dismounted. Ameretegaff took Mia's other hand with her free hand. She looked at Mia with her big, blue eyes.

"Great day, Miagaff! Please be our guest this day. Always will you be welcome among the Mumbwe!"

"Thank you, Lady of Peace." Mia tried to be formal. "It is my honor to so be taken in." Mia thought throwing in an attempted small curtsy would be a nice touch.

Ameretegaff released a hand. She placed her arm around Mia's shoulder. Speaking from the corner of her mouth, she half whispered to Mia. "You've been in the company of Master Finnegaff too long already!"

"I did sound like Finnegaff, didn't I?" Mia smiled. She liked Ameretegaff already.

They stepped off the trail to the south, not far, maybe a few hundred feet, to walk in to an encampment of Mumbwe. Now Mia knew what Finnegaff meant when he said the Mumbwe would find them. Had they not been led to the Mumbwe camp, they never would have found it.

The nomadic Mumbwe journeyed north during the warmer summers, and south for the colder winters. Mia estimated about seventy Mumbwe in this group, but knew that it was not the only one. The groups were called 'stands', and each stand had a leader. There existed a king that ruled over the twenty-five or so known stands, though it was known that a few wild stands still roamed Slagg, but were very elusive. This one was small compared to ones with hundreds on the Awlland plains. They inhabited Elfwood, Awlland, the Granite Mountains and Slagg. They were, in fact, the only race other than those controlled by the dark sorceress that inhabited Slagg.

Men tended the fire with the women of the Mumbwe. Cooking pots hung over the flames in the center of the camp, a pig on a spit over the largest. Dinner smelled wonderful! Belemeriath seemed to know everybody, particularly the female Mumbwe, with whom he directly made company. Ameretegaff accompanied Mia and Finnegaff to the center of the camp near the fires where family groups were gathered in various places. Some were seated on logs, while others lounged on wicker folding chairs placed around the fires. Finnegaff conversed with Ameretegaff about news while Mia observed the family they were seated next to. There was what appeared to be the father, mother, and a girl about Mia's age with a girl of perhaps two years. The mom with the older girl focused on the antics of their beloved toddler. Such a happy people, she thought.

To their right sat a man, probably in his twenties. He was carving what looked to be a doll with a small knife. He would take a few cuts, then closely examine his work.

"Friend Hallallarah," Ameretegaff spoke to the carving man. "This is our welcome guest Miagaff." She motioned to Mia. Hallallarah stood.

"My pleasure to have such beauty grace our stand." She held out both hands palms up. Hallallarah took them in both his and shook them but once, then released. He was a beautiful man himself, perfect teeth and skin, with a warm, genuine smile. "Might I join you?"

"Well, yeah. Here. Have a seat." She motioned to the empty spot on the log next to her. He took her offer, setting his carving aside.

"Hallar...Hallaller...what's your name again?" Mia asked.

"Hallallarah."

Mia tried to say it a few times but tripped her tongue over the L's. She got it with some coaching. "Hallallarah, I have a question for you."

"Moghashi."

"What?"

"That means 'please ask' in Mumbwe!"

"Oh. Okay. Hey, where do you guys sleep? Are there some buildings nearby or what?" Mia asked.

"In our tents, Mar... Meah...what's your name again?"

"Mia."

He sighed, shook his head and looked at her from the corner of his eye. He knew her name! She slapped him on the arm.

"Okay. What tents?"

"Those tents." He motioned to the forest across from the fire.

"What tents?" she said. "I don't see any tents."

He stood and motioned for her to follow. Mia turned to Finnegaff with a look that sought his approval. He wore a smile a little too big for normal, and nodded his okay for her to go with Hallallarah. They circled the fire to the edge of the forest and stopped.

"So where's this tent?" Mia asked.

Without a word, he reached down to grab air about six inches from the ground. The air he held between his fingers began to shimmer, the shimmer growing outward to reveal a sheet Hallallarah was pulling back. Mia's eyes widened. Her mouth hung open, for behind the invisible sheet there appeared a tent, dark green with bright lime green stripes, the doorway open with supplies within.

"Woah! How'd you do that?"

"This is Mumbwe veilcloth," he said. "Mother makes it. Nice piece, yes?" He held the shimmering veilcloth for Mia to take. She reluctantly took it. The silky material was unbelievably light. She looked at it closely, and could see it change its color to match the area behind it exactly.

"This is amazing!" she exclaimed. "How does it do this?"

"It is mostly of silk, which gives it that nice, soft feel..."

"No, not that!" He was smiling at her. He was messing with her again. She sunk her chin to her chest and let out a heavy, insistent sigh.

"Okay, okay! It is of silk and ancient Mumbwe magic. It takes the appearance of whatever is behind it, hiding that which it covers. It is of the Mumbwe only. Few others may work the magic, as it is made so that but one individual or group may use it. The ones covering the tents can be worked by Mumbwe or friend to the Mumbwe. Other pieces are made to be worked by only an individual."

"I get it! This is how you guys hid so well from us when you found us!"

"Yes! We have a tent by the path to keep watch."

"But how can you see out of it? Doesn't it hide what you're trying to see?"

"Yes, if it is inside out. Otherwise it is nearly transparent. See?" He lifted the corner of the veilcloth and placed Mia beneath its cover.

The scene of the Mumbwe stand changed: everything had a slight waviness to it, like looking through water. Hallallarah looked about. "Mia!" he called. "Where are you? Where did you go?" She flipped the veilcloth from over her. "Oh! There you are!" he said, holding a hand to his heart. "I thought I had lost you!"

"Oh, knock it off!" She hit him on the arm again. She liked Hallallarah. He was fun to be around.

Mia was marveling at the veilcloth when there came the high melodious notes of a woodrod being played.

Hallallarah held a finger to the air when he heard the sound. "Come! They prepare our meal!" He strolled off, and Mia followed. She looked at him, then at the veilcloth.

She sat between Hallallarah with the family she had met on her left as they ate a most delicious roast pig served with vegetables. Mia didn't recognize the vegetables, but they were very good, prepared steamed with a seasoning like garlic, but more like cinnamon. The older girl of the family next to her was giving an occasional tidbit to the dog, a cross between a terrier of some variety and a husky, kind of.

"That's a pretty dog you have," she said to the girl. "So, what's your name?"

"I am Romessee." She placed the braids of her long, black hair over her shoulders. Even her large, wide-set deep green eyes smiled as she introduced herself.

"I'm Mia." Mia stood and held out her hands palms up, the traditional method of Mumbwe greeting, one of many means of proper behavior which Finnegaff had coached her prior to their meeting with the Mumbwe. Romessee stood with her. Mia startled at the Mumbwe's six and a half-foot height. She took Mia's hands and shook them but once in the fashion of the Mumbwe. They visited through dinner, and Romessee was more than happy to tell Mia about her Mumbwe lifestyle. She was pleasant, as were all the Mumbwe Mia had met so far. She reminded Mia of Aaramerielle. She missed her Elven friend, and wondered how she was doing.

As dark settled in the valley, the Mumbwe stoked their fires. An ensemble of musicians played woodrod, stringdrum and drums (of sorts) for their dancing brethren. Those that preferred had ale, served in large wooden mugs. Many of the Mumbwe came to sit with Mia to visit with her in a polite, kind manner. They were a happy, free spirited people with everything to live for; respectful toward one another, kind to all, family oriented. They shared in responsibilities with smiles and thank you's. Mia found their benevolence infectious.

Finnegaff sought out Mia, which took a little doing on his part, for when he found her, he explained that he had been obligated to show 'honor to tradition' for the Mumbwe tradition of showing honor to the coming of spring, which he may or may not had only just now fabricated. Mia knew what that meant. Finnegaff smiled a silly grin while holding his mug a little unsteadily.

"Dear Miagaff, it's 'bout time to choose," he said.

"Choose?"

"Yes, m'dear." He smiled crookedly. "A Mumbwe mus' accompany us to the Reading o' the Book o' Life, you know."

"I gotta choose now?" She hadn't taken time to think about it at all.

"Well, yes an' no. Tonight, as we leave at firss light."

Mia considered her choices. She had met so many Mumbwe in such a short time! All of them were easy to get along with, each one with his or her individual talents. She had liked every one of them. Why couldn't somebody else choose? Why did she have to choose, anyway? She was about to ask Finnegaff, but held her tongue when she thought about how he would answer in the event that it was a stupid question. It was then that she remembered: Saa would pick for her. She sat up straight and cleared her mind to Saa. Almost instantaneously she had a picture. Her head jerked back. Her eyes widened at the suddenness of it.

"Romessee!" she blurted out.

"Romessee?" Finnegaff squinted as he pulled his head back. He turned quickly to Mia. "Are you sure? She is young, dear Miagaff."

"No she's not! She's my age!" Mia defended her marginal adulthood.

Finnegaff laughed. "Oh, child," he said as he placed a hand gently on her shoulder, "We jus' wanna be sure. Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"But are you abs'lutely sure?"

"Yes!"

"Miagaff, m' dear, you mus' be abs'lutely sure!"

"Look. I said yes! And I used Saa!" She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

Finnegaff laughed and pointed at Mia's tapping foot. "Marigaff does that to me when she wants things to go her way. And they usu'lly do!"

Mia became aware of the imitation. She uncrossed her arms and laughed once.

He shook his head as he placed a hand on Mia's shoulder. "Let's go tell the Mumbwe!" he said. Mia went with Finnegaff to where Ameretegaff was standing on the other side of the fire, supping a mug of ale. Romessee was standing next to her.

"Lady of Peace, dearest Ameretegaff, friend Mumbwe and, and my dearest Am'retegaff. In accordance to, with the directives for the eighth Carrying of the Book o' Life, I do hereby announce as Head of Wizard's Council..." Finnegaff had one arm around Ameretegaff's shoulder while he waved a mug of ale.

Ameretegaff placed a single finger upon his lips. He fell quiet. "My dearest Finnegaff. Who did she select?"

"I was getting t' that," he grinned. "As the head of the Wizard's Council, I mus' remind you all of what we're doing here tonight." Ameretegaff smiled at Mia and shook her head. "As you all know," he continued as he looked into his mug, "we have with us the...the...." His face twisted into a puzzle. "Great Saa! I'm out of ale!" He caught sight of a young Mumbwe standing nearby. "Be a good girl an' fill this for an old wizard, won't you? There! Thassa good girls!" He handed the youth his mug, and off she went to do his biding. "Now. Where was I?

Mia had waited long enough. She couldn't hold back any longer. She put on her best wizard voice. "By the grace of Saa," she spoke with power, "Saa has selected Romessee to, uh, join us on our, uh, journey!" She tried to sound formal. "For the Book of Life!" Her mind thrashed for the right words to make her sound like an authoritative sorceress. She just knew they were there! "The Reading of the Book!" There! That was it! No...."Of Life!" She blew it! She knew she blew it! But at least they knew who was chosen!

"Ah, sweet child!" Ameretegaff touched palm up fingertips delicately under Mia's chin. As she did so, a warm wave swept over Mia. "One can always tell another that for too long keeps company of my dear Lord Finnegaff. Romessee is a wise choice!"

Romessee stood in the midst of the conversation gaping. Mia hoped that the Mumbwe girl wouldn't go running off or start crying because she had to go with them. "Me?" Romessee put a hand to her chest and smiled. "I...I am so honored! Are...are you sure, friend Miagaff?"

"I was instructed by Saa. But I probably would have chosen you on my own."

"Saa?! Saa directed you?! I am pleased that you are so sensitive to Saa!"

Ameretegaff placed a hand on Romessee's shoulder. "That is how its done, dear." She turned to Mia. "Mumbwe Romessee," Ameretegaff said, "is my apprentice, and is to go to Marigaff's Farm in two years. She is gifted by Saa in compassion and judgments." Romessee took Mia's hands in the traditional Mumbwe handshake. Ameretegaff then turned to Finnegaff. "I do believe, great friend and Lord Finnegaff, that we must pay Honor to Tradition for the selection of the Mumbwe for the Carrying of the Book of Life!" Mia thought they were already paying honor to a different tradition, and in fact they were. But, wizards will be wizards.

"Indeed we shall! I know the tradition well!" Finnegaff put hand to heart and bowed slightly to the Lady of Peace.

"Choritis, Saa! Lorusa pon shomos nar dea nok!" (Please, Saa! Mugs of ale for we four!) Ameretegaff thumped her staff gently on the ground. A mug of ale appeared in Mia's hand, which mysteriously was in the proper position to hold a mug. Romessee had one as well, and held it aloft in silent toast. She wore a grin that no force on Morrah could have taken from her.

Mia had never had ale before, and beer only a few times. At first she was scared: she had never drank before, not really. What would happen to her if she did? On the other hand, what would happen if she didn't, if she offended the Mumbwe? On the other hand, what harm could it do? She took a sip of the ale.

The next morning at an hour after sunrise, Mia's pounding head convinced her to never drink ale again, especially with wizards. She felt a little sick to her stomach, but that wasn't the bad part. The backside of her head felt worse than the troll experience. The sunlight pierced her eyelids. She shut her eyes tight. That hurt, too. In fact, everything hurt. She sat up in her bedroll, the flap of the tent partially opened. A familiar hummingbird wing beat sound startled her.

Belemeriath hovered in front of her face on the left. "Great day, Miagaff!" How could he be so happy! He buzzed to her right. "Sun's up! Sun's up! Let's go!" Mia fell back down on the bedroll, which was a mistake, as she had no pillow. Her head hit the ground with a painful clunk.

"Here! I have something for you!" Belemeriath lit in front of her face on the bedroll. He carried two motherberries, one beneath each arm. She slowly opened her eyes. "Finnegaff eats these when he has too much ale! He says they help!"

Mia would've tried cyanide at this point, so she sat up and ate both the berries. Within a minute or so, the pain was much more tolerable, though it wasn't gone. She thanked Belemeriath, then tried to roll up her bedding. She couldn't quite handle that much activity yet, and decided to leave it for later. She then went outside with Belemeriath.

Finnegaff and Ameretegaff watched several of the Mumbwe pack the horse saddlebags. They showed little if any effects from the night before. Mia thought it was unfair, or maybe just that they practiced 'honor to tradition' more than she did. Ameretegaff was the first to notice Mia.

"Great day, Miagaff!" she said to the suffering girl. "You look bitten of ale this day."

"Oh, I'm okay," she said. She held her head so it didn't fall off her shoulders. Though she was feeling better and better as the motherberries took effect, mussed hair with a half awake stagger gave her away. Finnegaff was smiling obnoxiously at her.

"You're enjoying this too much!" she told the wizard.

"Great day, dear Miagaff! You're in for a long morning."

Romessee was more than ready to go. She was already mounted on her horse, Sheelee. She smiled proudly as she spoke with her mother, who was giving her last minute mom instructions.

The Mumbwe camp was alive with activity: tents were being disassembled, goods were being packed in large canvas bags, and items were being stowed in wagons that were hitched to horses. The camp was coming down fast. This was no wonder, for as everyone knows, nomads did this task well, it being their livelihood. Ameretegaff approached Mia with a small package.

"Miagaff, child!" she said. Mia didn't particularly like being called child, but from wizards it was okay. "A gift from the Mumbwe to you." She handed the package to Mia.

She took the small bundle from the Lady of Peace and untied the crossed string and unfolded an eight-foot square of the mystical Mumbwe veilcloth. She marveled at the shimmering chameleon fabric. "This is for me?"

"Yes. For you only. It will not work in the hands of another. The magic of the veilcloth is tailored for specific use, thus cannot be utilized if it falls into the wrong hands. Should another try to use it, they would find no more than an ordinary bolt of purple cloth."

"What do I do with it?"

"Hope," Finnegaff said, "that we don't have to use it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mia looked at the wizard, who was lighting his pipe with a chicken bone he had acquired from who knows where.

"It means," he paused as his pipe flamed, "no more than what it seems. Yet no less, either." Mia hated those kinds of answers. "Here. Let me to help you fold it." As he and Mia folded the veilcloth, Mia noticed that it stopped shimmering wherever Finnegaff touched it.

Belemeriath came out of nowhere and fluttered in front of Mia. "Are you feeling better?" He asked her.

"Why, Miagaff!" Finnegaff smiled. "Were you not feeling well this morning?"

"No, she wasn't!" Belemeriath flew to Finnegaff. "She had a hangover, and really bad!"

"Shut up, fairy!"

"She tried to sit up in her bedroll, but fell back and hit her head! Bam!" He smacked his tiny hand onto his open palm. "You shoulda seen it! Her eyes crossed and everything!"

"Knock it off, Tinker bell!" She batted at him. Even had he been holding still, she would not have hit him. Belemeriath laughed at her. Sometimes he was just irritating.

He faced Ameretegaff the entire time he orbited he head. "I gave her two motherberries and she feels better now!"

"Two?" Ameretegaff said. "Only two? For her size she'll need at least six!" She took a few steps to a breakfast table that had been set up earlier and put several motherberries into a small bowl. "Here you are, dear. These will complete your recovery."

Mia took the bowl from the Mumbwe. She ate one, feeling the nourishing warmth overcome her. "These really work, you know," she told Ameretegaff.

"Yes, they do. Lord Finnegaff and I are fine because of them."

"You woke up this morning feeling yucky?" Mia said while eating the second berry.

"Probably as bad, yes." Mia didn't feel so singled out then. They just knew the tricks, that's all.

"I helped cure Miagaff's hangover!" Belemeriath announced, puffing out his chest.

"Don't you even tell anybody!" Mia said. "Fairy!" It was too late. He was off.

"Hey, Farawwah!" he yelled as he crossed the nearly vacant campsite. "Guess what I did!"

"Great," Mia said. "Now I'm gonna hear about this for the next five years!"

"No, I don't think you will," Finnegaff said. "He'll find other things to get to you." She glared at the old wizard. "C'mon! Trust me on this one!"

Mia could hardly wait.

The farewells from the Mumbwe camp were blissful and many. Romessee had to say good-bye to each member of her stand one at a time. She warmly embraced each of them, the first time on Morrah Mia had witnessed greetings expressed as hugs. Ameretegaff spoke with Finnegaff out of earshot for a few moments before the small party parted ways with the Mumbwe caravan. The caravan headed north, Mia's group, east.

As they settled into a comfortable pace, Mia visited with Romessee, of course with frequent comments from Belemeriath. Finnegaff lay in an impossible position on the back on his horse, feet crossed atop Grinnolle's head.

Mia learned that Romessee was skilled with a weapon called a sling, a small leather pouch with four long tethers.

"That's a weapon?" Mia eyed the leather square with four long tethers.

"Yes," Romessee replied, pulling the tethers straight. "A very effective weapon."

"How does it work?"

"I'll show you!" Romessee picked up a rock about the size of a walnut and placed it in the square of leather, cradling it by the tethers. She swung the pouched rock once in a wide sweep, then released two of the tethers. The rock shot from its harness and struck a pine cone some forty feet away, exploding the pine cone on impact.

"Whoa!" Mia exclaimed. "That's cool! Did you mean to hit that?"

"Pick a target for me," Romessee smiled.

"Uh, okay! See that branch?"

"The low one on the pine tree?"

"Yeah! Hit it!"

"I'll try for the small stick on the end of it." Romessee selected another stone, nestled it in the pouch of the sling and let it fly. Belemeriath twinkled into a pinpoint of light and sped, faster than anything Mia had ever seen, to intercept the rock. It might have found its mark had the fairy not caught it in mid air.

Romessee laughed. "I should have guessed that would happen," she said.

Belemeriath returned with the stone. "Look! Look! I caught the rock!"

"Man, that was fast," Mia gasped.

"Try again, Romessee! Try again!" Belemeriath hovered between the two girls.

"What did you mean," Mia addressed Romessee, "that you should have guessed that would happen?"

The Mumbwe tipped her head and shrugged. "He is a fairy."

"And?"

"Fairies do that kind of thing." She picked up another rock. "I'll sling another stone so that you can chase it, friend fairy," she told Belemeriath. "Let this one find its mark."

"I won't stop it this time," he promised.

The second stone hit the branch just beneath the twig with a loud crack. Mia was impressed. "Can I try?" she asked.

Romessee handed her the sling. "Hold the two red tethers between these fingers. They bind to one side of the pouch. The two brown ones, hold like this." Romessee placed Mia's hand in the proper position. "Swing it just once. When the sling is about here," she pointed ninety degrees before the target, "release your hold on the brown tethers."

It was several attempts before Mia was able to keep the stone in the sling to start the swing. She swung with all her might and released the missile. She felt the weight of the rock leave the sling and watched her mark with anticipation. The rock, however, didn't go in the direction she'd intended. Belemeriath sped to the flying projectile and snatched it from the air not two feet from Finnegaff. Had he not done so, the stone would have struck the wizard.

Mia held a hand to her mouth. "Oops!"

Belemeriath brought the rock to Mia. "That was close," he said. "Good thing I was here!" He stuck a thumb in his barreled chest. "Try again, Miagaff! Try again!"

"No, no!" Finnegaff sat up on Grinnolle. "You can practice with the sling when I'm not around."

"Oh, uh, okay," Mia said. She handed the sling to Romessee.

As Mia returned the sling to her new friend, she felt something. A presence, a force, something watching from above. She looked up but saw nothing. Maybe it was Saa watching over her, she thought, because the presence definitely felt good, not evil. She recalled that Saa was not a person. Saa was a force, like gravity. She stared into the blue, cloud-spotted sky where she thought the feeling came from, seeking what, she didn't know. She saw only clouds and sky. The feeling gradually dissipated.

They made camp that evening in the forest, as a cool, light rain fell. In less than five minutes Romessee had erected a tent big enough for six, easily large enough to accommodate the three of them. Belemeriath took off into the woods for the night, as fairies did when in the company of other races. They ate leftover roast pig from the Mumbwe feast the night before and shared tales of their homes and talked of their respective families. Mia only somewhat missed hers, at least at the moment. She recalled that when she did go back home, she would find herself in a mental hospital.

The thick morning dew wet everything from bedding to spare clothing. Mia, her over night hairdo standing in every direction, wrapped a blanket around her shivering shoulders. She stood close to the small fire that Finnegaff, having risen before the girls, had started.

Romessee spoke about what she knew of the elves. "So when we get to the place of meeting, the elves will lead us to Abaradell," she said.

"Why don't we just go there ourselves?" Mia asked. "Why do we need an escort?"

"Nobody has ever found the city of Abaradell," Finnegaff said.

"It's protected by Elven magic," Romessee said. "It can't be found without an escort. It's on no map. And though we will be escorted without blindfold and seem to follow a mostly straight path, without a guide we would become lost and wander for days, perhaps weeks, until we found a way out of the Elfwood mountain range."

"How far to this place of meeting?" Mia asked.

Romessee pointed west through the thickening forest. "About twenty leagues in that direction."

Finnegaff pointed south. "Some ten leagues that way." They looked at each other. "I thought you knew the way," Finnegaff said to Romessee.

"I was following you, friend wizard," she replied.

"I, uh, believe you were in the lead," he reminded her. "Forests tend to disorient me."

"The leader does not need go first," Romessee said. "It is the Mumbwe way."

"I am not Mumbwe," Finnegaff said. He lit his pipe, this time with a rock. "But, yes, I do know about this tradition."

"So which way is it?" Mia pressed.

"To the West?" Romessee said.

"To the South," Finnegaff stated.

"Perhaps you are right," Romessee said to Finnegaff. "I'm not too certain; the Shadowlight Stand usually approaches Abaradell from the West."

He puffed on his pipe. "No, no. I was only, uh..."

Mia stood. "We're lost?"

"Well, yes and no," Finnegaff said. "I do know we're in Elfwood. And I do know where I am standing. I am not lost. This, however, may not be so for place where I stand."

Mia's head dropped with her eyes still on the wizard. "What are you talking about?!" She demanded. "We're in the middle of a forest and neither of you have any idea of where we are?!"

"I do know we're in Elfwood," Finnegaff said.

"And we could wander around Elfwood for, like, ever!" She turned to Romessee without saying a word.

Romessee shrugged.

"This is just great," Mia spat. She sat down hard on a large rock and ran her fingers through her hair. "Man..."

Chapter 11

"The Mumbwe never get lost," Romessee said.

"Then you know where we are," Mia said.

"The Mumbwe never get lost," Finnegaff said, "because they don't care where they are."

"As long as it's warm," Romessee said. "It's the Mumbwe way."

"We could wander for weeks before we find a way out of here," Mia repeated. "Isn't that what you said?"

"Well, yes and no," Finnegaff said.

"I really wish you wouldn't do that!" Mia snapped.

"Do what?"

"That...that...never mind!" Mia slapped her palms on her thighs. "This really sucks!"

Finnegaff continued. "If the elves wished it, we could wander for much longer."

"If the elves wished it?"

"Well, yes. The protective magic of Abaradell can trap unwanted visitors in Elfwood until they can be properly dealt with."

"Oh, great!" Mia shot both hands above her head then dropped them to her side. "Can't you use Saa or something?"

"No, no. Saa can't penetrate the Elven shield. It..." Finnegaff was interrupted by the familiar sound of a hummingbird's wing beat.

"Great day, friend wizard!" Belemeriath rocketed to each of them in turn. "Great day, Romessee! Great day, Miagaff! Hey!" he hovered beside Mia. She glared at him. "Oh! You don't look so well." He held a tiny hand to his frowning mouth. "Do you need me to find some motherberries for you? I'll get six. Or even eight!"

"What I need you to find is how we're supposed to get to wherever it is we're going," she snapped.

"Abaradell?" Belemeriath puzzled. "Nobody knows except the elves! Just the elves! We need to go to the place of meeting. It's that way." The little fairy pointed north. Then his face took a worried expression. "But we need to go that way," he pointed east, "'cause we really shouldn't be here," he said.

"Hmmm," Finnegaff said, stroking his beard. "I was afraid of that."

"What?" Mia demanded. "Afraid of what?"

"We've stumbled into the Halfwood Forest," Finnegaff remarked.

"This is not good," Romessee said, scanning the woods. "We need to leave this place."

"What?!" Mia said. "What's with this Halfwood place?"

"It's a forest inhabited by trees that can move," Finnegaff explained. "Halftrees. And they don't care for intruders. I didn't think we'd come this far west."

"Are they dangerous?" Mia asked. A creaking sound, like wood being placed under stress, came from deep within the forest. "What was that?" Mia gasped.

"They don't like fire," Finnegaff said. Mia looked at their small campfire. Finnegaff began covering the embers with dirt. "I believe we have offended them," he said. Branches in the forest snapped and bent. Mia looked through the thick trees, but saw nothing.

"Get the horses," Finnegaff said, gathering up belongings. "We need to leave. Quickly."

"We can't leave," Belemeriath said.

"Why not?" Mia asked. She stopped wadding up her bedroll.

"The trees won't let us!"

Finnegaff strode a few yards to the crest of a small knoll. "Great Saa!" he exclaimed. Mia and Romessee came to his side. Blocking the path they'd only yesterday come down was a row of trees, branches intertwined, allowing no passage. Dirt was upturned everywhere from where the trees had uprooted themselves and relocated to their defensive position.

One of the trees moved. It pulled itself from the ground with the groan of bending wood; it was the same sound Mia had heard coming from the forest. Up it stood upon fanned, writhing roots, then undulated across the meadow like an octopus. It moved fast, as fast as a person running.

"It's coming right at us!" Mia exclaimed.

"To the horses," Finnegaff ordered. As they turned to retrieve their mounts, the tree stopped. Its roots clawed and twisted into the soil until it was firmly anchored. The party stopped and watched the fifty-foot tree fan its canopy.

"Don't come within reach of the branches," Finnegaff told them.

"Can they grab with them?' Mia asked.

"Yes," Finnegaff said. "And much more."

"Well, can't you talk to them?" Mia suggested. "You talk to trees!"

"Yeah, but these aren't trees. They're halftrees. They're not as friendly."

"I talked to them," Belemeriath said. "They're not real happy with us."

"Did you tell them we mean no harm?" Finnegaff said.

"Yeah! I told them! I told them!" Belemeriath circled Finnegaff's head. "They said fire is a big risk for them. They're really mad!"

"Can we invoke Saa?" Mia asked. "Change them into toads or something?"

"Saa doesn't work on halftrees," Finnegaff explained. "You see, they were created by the elves of old and obey different laws of magic."

"I told them we're Carrying the Book of Life," Belemeriath said. "They acted like they didn't even know what I was talking about!"

"No. It wouldn't hold any weight with them," Finnegaff said. "They're not a very intelligent race, and don't understand the significance of the Book of Life." He sighed. "Perhaps I should try to talk with them."

"I'll go tell him you want to talk to him," Belemeriath said. "I'll tell him you're sylph."

"Yes," Finnegaff agreed. "I think a forewarning would be best."

Off flew the fairy, into the branches of the halftree that had moved toward them. Mia could barely see him through the leaves. He hugged the trunk, two thirds of the way up, and returned after a few moments.

"His name is Grelriken. He said he'll talk to you, but you have to go alone." Belemeriath flew to Mia and Romessee. "That means you girls can't go. But don't worry. Finnegaff knows what he's doing! He knows!"

Finnegaff eyed his little friend, shook his head and took a deep breath. "Wait here," he told the others. Donning his staff, he paced through the low grasses to the base of the halftree.

The wizard slowed once within the reaches of Grelriken's branches. The halftree moved not at all when he approached the trunk. He laid his hand on the rough bark and dropped his eyes to the ground. It seemed to Mia that it was taking an extraordinary amount of time.

"What's he doing?" she asked Belemeriath.

"He's talking to that halftree," he replied.

"Yeah, I know that! What's taking him so long?"

Belemeriath held his chin in his hand and winked at the sky. "Maybe they have a lot to talk about."

"Halftrees are known for keeping few friends," Romessee said. "I've never seen one before now because they live in only a small region." She sat on a fallen log. "Mumbwe stands avoid them. They're considered dangerous."

Mia could only guess about how they might be dangerous.

"Here he comes!" Belemeriath pointed, hovering between the girls.

Finnegaff had removed his hand and walked away. He was almost beyond the reach of the halftree. Fast, faster than imaginable, the branches had him. The rope-like twigs whipped about him and lifted him into the air. Finnegaff yelled out in agony and dropped his staff.

"FINNEGAFF!" Mia yelled. She snatched up Dielielle and ran to his aid.

"NO! MIAGAFF!" Romessee called after her.

Mia stopped just short of the halftree's reaches. "LET HIM GO!" she screamed.

The halftree uprooted itself and began to advance. Its long branches reached for her.

She held Dielielle skyward with both hands. Saa rushed through her. "Ralafas!" (Fire!) she commanded. Upon her invocation, a ten-foot torrent of flame shot from the head of her staff, blazing with a roar like a blowtorch.

Grelriken the halftree let out a deafening crack as he reeled backward. Finnegaff fell to the ground feet away from Mia. She waved the torch at the retreating halftree, then came to Finnegaff's side. He lay motionless.

Other halftrees uprooted, creaking and grinding in retreat. She stood over Finnegaff, but held her eyes on her enemies.

"Finnegaff!" she called. He grunted and rolled to his side.

Belemeriath flew to her side. "Miagaff!" he cried. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm getting us outa here!"

Romessee ran to them, horses in tow.

"Get him on a horse," Mia said. She continued her advance on the retreating halftrees. Dielielle blazed a hot, blue flame.

Romessee helped Finnegaff to his feet. He clutched his side, unable to stand straight. Belemeriath grabbed the wizard by the back of his tunic and lifted with all his might. Together they managed to get him on Grinnolle. He lay slumped forward.

Finnegaff grunted out his words. "Lebethtro Larra. Strawk." (Lebethtro Larra. Come.) He held out a hand. His staff, which lay some yards to the left, sprung to life, lifted into the air and shot across the meadow and, with a loud slap, planted firmly in the wizard's free hand.

The halftrees nearly tripped over one another in attempt to clear a path for Mia's fearful flame. It was becoming difficult for her to sustain the invocation. Sweat beaded on her forehead; her arms shook. Romessee rode her horse and led the other two. They walked through the middle of the retreating halftrees.

"I can't do this much longer," she announced. "Get ready to run for it!"

They were nearly past the crowd of halftrees when the flame began to spark and sizzle. With a final sputter, the flame died. Mia froze. She hoped the halftrees would continue backing off. They didn't. As soon as the fire went out, they attacked.

"RUN!" she called. Finnegaff and Romessee spurred their horses to a full run. Mia grabbed her saddle horn with her free hand, intent on swinging into the saddle. Weakened from the intensity of the invocation, she slipped and fell to the ground on her back.

On came the angry halftrees, creaking and snapping, branches extended.

Mia jumped to her feet and gripped the saddle horn. She tried to pull herself up with every ounce of strength she had left. Something grabbed her by the back of her tunic and lifted her into the air. She struggled wildly against the grip. The unseen hand released her and dropped her into the saddle.

Belemeriath flew from behind her. "RUN, MIAGAFF! FAST! HURRY!"

She paused but for a second to look up. Down came a branch toward her. She lay against the horse and spurred as hard as she could. Rosielle shot forward just as strong branches scratched Mia's back.

Finnegaff and Romessee were in the lead, clear of the angry halftrees. Mia was a hundred yards behind, halftrees closing in on both sides ahead of her.

"Run, Rosielle!" she panted under her breath. The mare laid her ears back and poured on the steam. Through an archway of snagging branches they ran, the attacking branches missing by mere inches. In moments they were clear of their adversaries.

Belemeriath was flying backward in front of the three running horses. "You can stop now!" he yelled in is little, loud voice. "We're out of the forest!"

All reigned in their horses. Mia and Romessee came to Finnegaff's side.

"Are you okay?" Mia asked the hunched wizard.

"Wow, Miagaff!" Belemeriath circled her at a dizzying speed. "You were great! You just..."

"Hold on," Mia interrupted, a hand in the air. "Finnegaff? You okay?"

Finnegaff moaned. "I think so," he reported, forcing himself upright. He winced when he pressed on his side. "Nothing broken, I believe." He was sweating profusely. "Miagaff, what..." he grunted, stalling in mid sentence. "What did you...Oooh!" He buckled and clenched his ribs.

Romessee dismounted. "We must get you off your horse and look at your injuries," she said. Finnegaff allowed her to aid his dismount. She sat him against a tree.

Mia anticipated where he was going with his question. "Look," she said. "That halftree wanted to kill you. I had to."

Romessee helped him out of his tunic. His left side had the start of a large bruise. "No," he grunted as the tunic came over his head. "Not that. And I...I thank you. But Saa shouldn't have worked."

"I didn't use it on the halftrees," she reminded him. "I just used it against them."

"No," he gasped. Romessee pressed on his wound, feeling for fractures. "Ow! No. Saa should not have invoked at all. Not in...not in the Halfwood Forest." He took a few deep breaths. "You continue to amaze me, young Miagaff."

Romessee determined that Finnegaff was indeed correct: there was nothing broken. After an hour of difficult travel for the old wizard, Mia and Romessee decided to halt for the night, though it was hardly past midday. Finnegaff raised no protest.

"It's that way," Belemeriath said, pointing to the north. "The Elven place of meeting is that way!"

"Finnegaff said it's that way," Mia pointed south, "and Romessee said it's that way." She pointed west.

"Oh, no!" He flew in figure eight's without turning his back to Mia. He jabbed a finger to the north. "It's that way, all right!"

"How would you know?"

"Because," he again hovered, "I was born here. And I know all about Elfwood. Except for Abaradell."

Mia looked at Finnegaff and poked a thumb at Belemeriath. "Did you know that Belemeriath knows how to find this place?"

"Well, yes." He scooped a generous portion of the vegetable meat stew Romessee had made into a wooden bowl. "Belemeriath knows Elfwood better that anyone. Except, of course, the elves."

Mia slouched into a sitting position and threw her arms into the air in frustration. "Okay, then!" She dropped her arms. "Why don't we just go north?"

Shortly before noon of the next day, deep in the woods and somewhere to the north of the Halfwood Forest, the party came upon a clearing in the trees. The clearing was a perfect circle of towering pines about forty feet in diameter, with short grass and flowers of many colors abounding. Red mushrooms the size of softballs dotted with brilliant yellow spots sprouted in groups about the meadow. Sunbeams sliced through the towering trees in brilliant sheets, and the air was musty with the smell of wet forest. Belemeriath announced the spot as the Elven Place of Meeting. One was to call upon the ever-watching elves, and should they answer, they would then take their callers to Abaradell. And they did have the option to not answer, for if they believed the intent of their visitors one of malice, they simply would not reply.

Finnegaff strode to the center of the small shaded clearing and held his arms out. "Fair elves! I, Finnegaff the Sorcerer, along with my worthy party, have come in peace. We ask passage to your sacred city, and audience with her majesty Queen Ronnameth. We beg you heed our call and grace us with your presence!" Immediately from amongst the trees emerged three elves, dressed in green robes and carrying long bows. The first of them spoke.

"Great day, Lord Finnegaff! Welcome to Abaradell! I am Temestrielle. We shall be honored to guide you and your party to the city! This way." He motioned for them to follow.

Belemeriath, who seemed to know just about everybody on Morrah, greeted his friend. "Great day, Temestrielle!" he said, flying to the elf's side once the okay to follow was given.

"Great day, cousin Belemeriath! I see you're in good company again!"

"Yes, I am!" He looked at the two girls.

"Belemeriath," the elf whispered so that no others could hear, "why does Finnegaff always have to be so formal?"

"Because," Belemeriath whispered back, "he's Finnegaff!" Temestrielle nodded his head as if Belemeriath had given him a completely acceptable answer, an answer that satisfied his question. And perhaps it had.

One of the elves had introduced himself as Carameth. He was truly the most handsome being Mia had ever seen. He was medium tall with long blond hair, somewhat thin yet muscular, had a complexion that could have been an after picture for an acne cream commercial. His eyes were a beautiful deep blue, his warm smile friendly, his gait confident, his stature proud. Mia had trouble keeping her eyes from him. She found that when she did look in his direction, he was often looking at her. She asked Romessee if she knew him. She said she did: Carameth was Queen Ronnameth's son; he was the Prince of the Elves. She characterized him as a very good elf that was full of charm. Romessee added that he was not betrothed. When Mia asked what that meant, Romessee told her that it meant he had no girlfriend. Mia nearly fell off her horse while squirming from the embarrassment. Romessee smiled. She enlightened Mia on her Pirasaa, the gift of judgment. Pirasaa, the ability to feel other's emotions, meant that she could read people very, very well. Romessee said that, just for a matter of record, Carameth was as fine as they come. This Mia didn't have to be told.

In a matter of hours they were at the Elven City of Abaradell. A river ran through the center of the forested city forming a long, narrow, winding pond of crystal clear water, bridged by many ornate wooden walkways. A paddle wheel turned off the side of a building next to where the river took a man's height drop in splashing waterfall. Sunlight poked through mostly shaded grounds. Birds were flying about, singing happily. The mossy trees, some bigger around than a house, bore countless green streamers of hanging vines and held many of the buildings making up the city. Most of the structures were of wood, green, living wood, with branches growing from the walls. The roofs of the structures were mostly thatch and some were small logs. A few houses on the ground were of stone. Flagstone paths surrounded by moss ran their courses between trees and houses as they wound about the gentle hills of the landscape. The damp, musty air was cool, fresh, and sweet with a hint of fungal growth. Belemeriath flew off, as he usually did when they arrived at a new place, straight into one of the houses nearby. Mia could hear him happily zipping off a string of words from the opened window. "...And I helped cure her hangover, too!"

"Fairy!" she muttered under her breath

The horses were taken by one of the elves that had escorted them to the city. Finnegaff, Romessee and Mia, accompanied by Carameth and Temestrielle, walked down the winding path to the largest of the city's structures. Queen Ronnameth's palace was huge. It was built right into three immense trees that reached heights of a hundred feet or more. Carameth led them inside to a large hardwood-floored room decorated with red tapestries. There sat a man and a woman. The man poured over an open book into which he was writing. The woman was nothing short of beautiful. Mia immediately knew her to be Queen Ronnameth, as Carameth's resemblance to her was uncanny. The way the man was dressed could have passed him for Robin Hood, except for the wizard's hat he wore.

The woman looked up. The motion bounced her light red waist-length hair. Her green eyes brightened when she noticed the small party. "Great day, Lord Finnegaff!" She bowed her head slightly. "And Romessee! What a pleasant surprise!" Queen Ronnameth's sweet voice was full of emotion, emphasizing everything she said.

"Great day, good Queen Ronnameth!" Romessee returned the bow.

"How fares your mother, dear?" Queen Ronnameth had been a friend to Romessee's mother for a long, long time.

"She does well, and sends her regards."

"Delightful!" The Queen's slender, feminine hands clasped together. "And you would be Miagaff, Carrier of the Book of Life! Welcome to Abaradell!"

Wow, Mia thought. News travels fast here! "Great day, Queen Ronnameth! An honor to meet you!" Mia bowed as Romessee had.

"Contrary, my dear. It is my honor to meet you. And this," she motioned to the man standing by her side, "is my beloved husband, King Normangaff." She turned to Finnegaff and held both of the wizard's forearms with her hands. "Kind Finnegaff! You look well!"

"I've looked this way for two thousand years! Being a wizard has its advantages, you know." They both laughed.

"Do accompany us to the garden, would you? Dinner will be served in an hour or so and we would be honored to have you!" Without waiting to see if they had accepted her invitation, she walked toward a door that opened into a garden. Obviously she was accustomed to neither following nor being refused.

What a splendid garden it was into which the queen led them! The fragrance of the air was like walking into a florist's shop. Flowers of unthinkable numbers adorned every patch of the acre of ground that was not path or seating area. Trellises harbored grapes and wisteria and clematis; roses abound. Birdbaths were alive with small finches; full size marble statues of deer and elves were about. Near the palace was a table ready for a feast, set in fine silver, with frequent baskets of fruits and nuts. As soon as they were seated at the table, a serving girl about Mia's age attended them. She poured hot cider for them all.

"Thank you," Mia said to the serving girl when handed a silver goblet.

"You're quite welcome, my Lady!" She did the standard slight bow. "My name is Mallararielle! Pleased to meet you!"

"Oh! I'm Miagaff!" And Mia, for the first time, presented herself as a sorceress.

"The honor is truly mine, Miagaff, to have met the Carrier of the Book of Life!"

"Does everybody know who I am?"

The girl laughed. She spoke freely. "We were forewarned of your coming by our scouts."

"From when we were at the meeting place?"

"The day before we met the Mumbwe," Finnegaff said.

"You knew we were here then?"

"As soon as you entered Elfwood," the queen said.

"Wow!" Mia said.

Mia visited with the bright serving girl, who proved to be entertaining, very kind, and full of life. She sat on the stone bench with Mia and told her about her role in Abaradell, and Mia exchanged stories of her home on Earth. Mia asked if she knew Aaramerielle.

"Aaramerielle? Yes! Of course! She's a wonderful friend!"

"And she is my niece," Queen Ronnameth said. Mia knew what question was coming next. Her mind raced trying to find a tactful way to inform the queen that Aaramerielle had undertaken a potentially dangerous mission on her behalf. "How is she doing?" the queen asked.

"Well...she's a historian, and knows Saa...and loves to run. We used to run together a lot."

"Yes, dear. These things I know. How is she?"

Mia looked at Finnegaff. He nodded once.

"She's with Marigaff right now," she said, "pretending to be me, acting as a decoy so the dark sorceress won't find us too soon." There. It was out.

All of the elves looked on in surprise. The queen spoke first. "A decoy? Why, what a wonderful idea, Finnegaff!"

"It wasn't my idea, your majesty," he said. "It was Miagaff's!"

"Miagaff! That is ingenious!" Ronnameth clasped her hands together. She did that a lot. "Imagine! Our own Aaramerielle with a role in the Carrying of the Book of Life! What honor!"

Mia was relieved that the queen wasn't upset that Aaramerielle was in such a dangerous predicament. She was even more relieved that Aaramerielle was Carameth's cousin.

Carameth had spoken little since their arrival in Elfwood. Mia caught him looking at her often, and wondered if it was because of who she was. Maybe he would visit with her later, maybe when nobody was around. Her heart fluttered at the thought.

Dinner was promptly served: various appetizers preceded a meal of roast duck, chicken, vegetables in a sauce new to her, muffins and fruit pastries. Mia found it hard not to overeat.

Later, after dinner, as the king was visiting with Finnegaff, the queen talked with Romessee about her mother. Mia sat quietly upon an ornately carved stone bench and took in the spectacular hues as dusk colored the stunning landscape with dimming purple shades intermixed with light pink sunbeams. She breathed deep of the fresh air and closed her eyes for just a moment, tilted her head back and stretched her sore muscles. She was startled when she opened her eyes, for there sat Carameth, no more than two feet away. Mia hadn't even heard him approach! He looked at her with what Mia later called his 'killer smile.' She felt herself blush, yet hid her surprise consciously with the sweetest smile she could create.

Neither of them said a word for what seemed to be a long, long time. Carameth broke the ice. "It is an honor to meet you, Miagaff!" He called her Gaff!

"Uh, me, too." Her pulse raced; she tried to control her breathing.

"Tell me about yourself, won't you?" The young prince laid a hand on hers. She tingled from head to toe.

"Well, there isn't much to tell," she said. He waited patiently. "I...uh...I'm not from here. I was at Marigaff's Farm for a while."

"And you know Aaramerielle?" he asked.

"Yes, I do." She nodded. "Aaramerielle and I are good friends."

"She's a wonderful elf." He laughed and he released her hand. She would rather he hadn't let go, and almost reached to get the hand back. She stopped herself before making any discernible movement. "I could never keep up with her!"

"Do you mean like running?"

"That and anything else!" he said. "She's so alive! She's always doing something. She seems to never rest!"

"Yeah! I know!" Mia said. "She was my roommate. She and I would run and when we were done, I was beat, and she wasn't even out of breath!" Just then Mia felt something, a presence, like she was being watched. Compelled, she looked around the perimeter of the garden. There, seated on a bench some distance off, was Finnegaff, in the company of King Normangaff. Finnegaff was looking in their general direction. Mia kept an eye on them, maybe too much of an eye, for in a few moments Carameth followed the direction of Mia's glances.

Carameth soon caught on to Mia's concern. "Shall I show you the palace?" He stood and motioned toward the entrance to the kitchen. Mia followed him, delighted that he had rescued her from a potentially embarrassing situation. Not that she had anything to be embarrassed about. She and Carameth weren't doing anything to be ashamed of, right? They were just talking, right? As they entered the palace, she looked over her shoulder to see if Finnegaff was still watching her.

He was. So was Normangaff.

The tour Carameth gave Mia of the spectacular palace took quite some time. The rest of their company had congregated in the courtyard, and had been joined by many elves. Entertainers played stringdrum while two sang to the soft stringed instrument. Others served drinks, some carried vegetable trays, and they admirably took turns doing so with others that were mingling or dancing. Paper lanterns with a soft, green glow adorned bent poles placed everywhere. Queen Ronnameth was near the musicians, seated on the edge of her chair, her head rested on the palm of one hand, elbow on knee. She stared at the elf lady musician, entranced by the song. Belemeriath was dancing; at least Mia guessed that would be what his rhythmic flying movements were, with one of the girls from a circle of youngsters gathered underneath a flowered archway. Romessee was among them, happily talking in three directions at once.

In a most gentlemanly fashion, Carameth seated Mia near the queen as they attended the finality of the somber song. The song was about an Elven woman who had lost her husband in war.

"Tho' she came and she'd wait by the river,

Where they'd come many times before,

She'd sit and she'd wait by the river

But she knew she would see him no more."

By the time the song was concluded, it was all Mia could do to fight the lump in her throat. Ronnameth's tears flowed freely. The queen applauded gently for the performance as did Carameth, his eyes welled up, too. Mia wiped her eyes, and so moved was she by the truly spellbinding music of the elves that she was compelled to clap but softly. Even Belemeriath, who had joined the audience, showed movement by the song.

"Oh, Isella, Shafristerelle," the queen complimented the trio. "Such beautiful voices! I have forever held the Ballad of Fallen Love dear to my heart! Vierriellah, your hand to the string is magnificent!"

"Thank you, good Queen Ronnameth! It is our pleasure!" Isella said. The others answered with a slight bow.

The queen loved the dramatic, and leaned heavily toward the romantic side of life. She looked at Mia with a dreamy smile, then to Carameth. "My dear son! I see you're being a proper host!" Mia wondered how many others had seen them together. A hundred things ran through her mind at the same time. Yet Ronnameth seemed anything but worried.

While the stringdrummer played another song, an upbeat melody about dancing, Mia was thinking about the inevitable: soon she would have to choose the next companion for their journey. She seriously thought about picking Carameth without opening to Saa, just saying that Saa picked Carameth. Against her worse judgment, (and this she knew), she opened her mind to Saa. Instantaneously a picture of Carameth was in her mind. She jumped a little at the shock of the suddenness of the revelation. She had startled like this each time she'd consulted Saa when she chose a representative for the Carrying. She considered that it might not be Saa, since Carameth was so recent on her mind. She waited for the next song to nearly finish before she tried again. She had the same result. Carameth it was.

Mia decided that there was no better time than the present. She rose to her feet and clasped her hands in front of her in mock humility, though in fact she was fighting nervousness. This time she'd rehearsed what she was going to say. She spoke in a loud, clear voice, trying her best to sound authoritative. "Good Queen Ronnameth!" Upon hearing her, all fell quiet. Every eye was on her. "I have been with Saa, and Saa has given me vision to the elf prince I am to select for the Carrying of the Book of Life!" She blew it! It was supposed to come out elf friend, not elf prince! She held her ground and looked at the elves, Carameth among them. A dead silence fell over them. They froze and stared at her in unbelief.

Chapter 12

The fifth Stracombe, the rare and coveted amplifier of Saa, was the Stracombe of the Seer, a plain wooden dish about sixteen inches in diameter by four inches deep. Filled with clear water and activated with an invocation, the Stracombe gave the user the ability to see what others were doing, even over great distances. Wrought by the magic of the elves of old, its intent was a means to warn of impending danger and to communicate with loved ones far from home. The Dark Sorceress Eringaff had other uses for it.

The bowl was set upon a table in the center of a dust-layered round room, perhaps fifteen feet across, all of stone, the highest room of the highest tower of Eringaff's castle. Nobody entered the room with the exception of she. In fact, nobody ever came to the lofty reaches of this particular spire, not for a half score levels below. She looked into the waters of the Stracombe.

The dark sorceress' gaze was unblinking. She hovered over the Stracombe of Seers, her hands palms down on the table on each side of the bowl. Her long black hair missed the water of the Stracombe by mere fractions of an inch. She spoke through clenched teeth. "Felameh su piariemah YaSamme!" (Find the traveling wizard!)

At first nothing happened. The sorceress waited impatiently, yet knew she could not rush Essaa, that such power took time to manifest. Soon the water began to glow a soft creamy color. It madly swirled within itself without distorting the unnatural mirrored surface. Illuminating her wicked face from below, the glow grew brighter, and images began to form. Two people. Yes, two. One...no, both were wizards, she could tell, by the green glow about their forms. One had a long gray beard. That fool Finnegaff! The other, a young girl. She had found them! Her smile reeked evil as she wrung her cold, sweating hands together. Her pulse quickened, her breathing intensified. She watched to be sure. The Stracombe showed the two passing a lake. She knew the lake well, knew where they were going. After she was satisfied she had retrieved the information she needed, she batted the bowl from the table, splashing water on the cold, dusty stone floor. The image had gone dark even before the bowl lost any of its contents.

She walked to the unglazed window. It was without curtain, twice as tall as its three-foot width. The window was set in the side of her stone castle and hosted a drop of several hundred feet to the many miles of dead, rocky ground that it overlooked. The windowsill was two feet thick, the rough, dark stones unpolished. It was the only window in the small room, a closed door opposite it, dry-rotted wood on rusty hinges. Eringaff extended her hand from the window. A huge black crow flew from the wastelands below to perch on her arm.

She whispered to the crow. "I must have the Book of Life! It is bound for Centauria and is now at Scheramm's lake! Find my second general. He is near there. Tell him. Be swift!" Off through the dark land flew the crow. Eringaff laughed a low, sinister growl and watched it until the black form was out of sight. She left the room, head held high with self-pride. In time she would rule, rule all, all of Morrah! Even her master, Gaff, the buffoon!, would be hers! She would deal with him when the time came. And it would come. Yes. It would come. Then she would rule as she was meant to rule.

She walked to one of the many high balconies and raised her arms skyward. "Norielle, Bridesmaid to Weather! Hear me!" she wailed into the breezy evening. The wind picked up. Some thirty yards from the balcony clouds materialized, swirling in eerie silence beneath the perpetual black ceiling of higher clouds. They formed into the ghostly face of Norielle, the Bridesmaid to Weather. Her hair was long, flowing dark clouds, her clear, silvery white face narrow, with a tiny nose dotting over wide lips. One thick eyebrow of cloud spanned her extended forehead over haunting eyes that bore no pupils. Her dress was a robe of cloud, tied with a skinny rope of fine mist that swirled around her thin midsection at impossible speed.

Norielle spoke in an echoing voice. "Erin! It has been a time whence I've last seen thee. How fare thee?" She never used titles when addressing anyone, in show of favor to none. To Norielle, all were a necessary equal; the affairs of living beings were naught to her.

"Norielle, I require your service."

"What is thy desire, Erin?"

"I want storms! Lightning and rain in torrents at Scheramm's lake!" Eringaff's smile showed teeth.

"A small rain can happen there. It is not the season for heavy rain." Norielle replied.

"I DON'T CARE!" Eringaff roared. "Make it rain HARD!!"

"It shan't be done. The weather pattern now is for spring shower."

Eringaff raged. "CURSED WEATHER!" She picked up a chair and hurtled it toward the apparition, yet it fell well short. Not that it would have done anything to Norielle had it met its target, the Bridesmaid of Weather consisting of nothing but cloud. She stormed down the parapet adjoining the balcony. Without breaking stride, she raised Maraska pon Durk at two darkhound guards standing watch. "LOK!" (Off!) she roared, holding out the 'o' in lok. Before they knew what had happened, the two guards were hurdled over the wall to the rocks below.

"I will have the Book of Life! It is mine by which to rule!" She stopped at the edge of the parapet to peer off into the distance with a cold wind blowing in her face. Her long, purple dress waved in the wind. She imagined her kingdom, imagined what she would do to Gaff. As she fantasized, to her left, next to the stony wall that reached upward into the eternal black canopy of clouds, there materialized an apparition. The ghost was that of an old elf, dressed in a shimmering layered black and purple robe. His long hair was white, his face smooth yet aged, as it is with elves. His eyes bore a peculiar combination of anger and wisdom. His entire being held the look of starvation for power. His ancient age did nothing to alter his strong, commanding physique. In his hand he held a staff as tall as his six and a half feet, a wizard's staff named Virrolle. Deep, dull black in color was this staff, the entire length adorned with intricately carved runes. He wore the wizard's hat of office, his drab gray color that came to a tall conical point with a wide brim. An aura of black light surrounded him, which absorbed what little light there was from the darkening evening. To look upon him was in itself repulsive, for the will of evil emanating from him was one few could withstand.

He was Gaff, the legendary dark sorcerer, the most powerful wizard to ever live, trapped by the magic of old in Korr, a stasis between Morrah and the realm of the dead. Only by controlling the Book of Life would he ever be free. He hungered for his freedom so that all would suffer for what their ancestors had done to him. Vengeance, among other immoralities, was his motivator.

"Dark sorceress, my worthy bride!" He greeted Eringaff with a hollow, distant yet clear voice. "You seek the Book."

"Yes, my lord," she answered. Gaff knew that she was not willing to become his queen when the time came, that she would commit treason. But she mattered not to him. She would be his bride or he would kill her. He only needed her so that he might gain possession of the Book of Life. After that, what happened to her was not his concern. "I have taken all precautions. I have the Stracombe of Seers and it has found the Book of Life. It is but a matter of time now." She smiled her most wicked smile as she thought of the day that she would feed him to her darkhounds.

Gaff was unable to hold his ghostly image for long. "Remember, sorceress: do not fail me, for the cost of error shall prove heavy upon you." He began to fade. "I shall return soon. Have the Book of Life. Have the Book of Life." His voice faded with his image, but a projection of the real thing. "Have the Book of Life...." His form wavered and dissipated into nothingness. Have the Book of Life, she thought. Have the Book of Life. I will have the Book, but not for you, old fool. For the time, she led him on. She falsely worshiped him; she obeyed him without question; she befriended him; he was far too dangerous to deal with now. She thought of a wizard's proverb, something she'd not done in a long, long while: "...and that which embraces evil is but evil's final victim." Gaff was evil, yes, but Eringaff was much, much worse. This she knew Gaff knew. She prided herself on her mindset. On her way to her chamber, she found herself singing a delightful old melody about a famous victorious battle.

Chapter 13

"You are saying that the choice is Carameth?" Ronnameth said. Mia nodded yes. Mostly because she was afraid to try to speak again just yet.

Belemeriath fluttered in front of Mia. "Carameth is the best elf there is with a bow! He can hit flies on logs! But that's okay, because I hate flies!" He made a sour little fairy face.

Ronnameth looked at the two sitting together for a moment, then stood before them. As sudden as a storm, her face grew stern. She unclasped her hands and placed her right hand to the left side of Mia's neck, her forefinger above the ear, the other three fingers below. Mia froze. She looked deep into her eyes. She found it impossible to resist the intense, deep gaze. She felt a surge run through her, as if warm, relaxing waters had saturated her very soul.

Ronnameth removed her hand. "Your words are just, child, and your heart pure." Whatever that meant. It sounded good. The queen stretched out her arms to the both of them as she knelt to embrace the two.

"Oh, my beloved son Carameth," she sang. "So much honor precedes you!" She hugged them both at the same time. Mia let out a sigh of relief. Carameth sat stunned. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Finnegaff approaching with Normangaff.

"Great day to my beloved bride," Normangaff smiled as he reached out to take Ronnameth's hand.

"And a great day it is, my beloved husband! Miagaff has chosen our Carameth as the Elven representative for the Carrying of the Book of Life!" She beamed. She beamed a lot.

Finnegaff looked at Mia. The good queen saw his suspicion. "Yes, dear Finnegaff. I used Yamasaa." Finnegaff nodded once, his eyebrows still raised in question and his gaze still directed to Mia.

Mia took a turn to defend herself. "The music was playing and I thought I might as well open to Saa to see who I had to choose. That's why you were looking for me, wasn't it? To tell me it's time?"

Finnegaff laughed. He laughed again, louder, and placed a hand on Mia's shoulder. "Yes, dear Miagaff. Yes, I was!"

Mia predicted what was to happen next. "I suppose there's some kind of 'honor to tradition' for this, right?"

Mia had barely voiced the words 'honor to tradition' when Finnegaff's eyes bugged out. He waved both hands through the air at waist level in slight movements, palms down, and lipped the word 'no' while shaking his head. But it was too late. Queen Ronnameth gave Finnegaff a dark, threatening look.

Belemeriath buzzed Queen Ronnameth. "Finnegaff always shows honor to tradition!" His hand cupped beside his tiny mouth. "Ale for all! Ale for all!" he called.

Finnegaff dropped his shoulders and sighed. "I guess we could skip that part. Just this once."

Queen Ronnameth smiled and resumed her casual attitude which, Mia had learned, the queen could turn on and off like a light switch. "Thank you, friend Belemeriath! And what a fine choice you have made, Lord Finnegaff! Oh!" A light went on somewhere in her deceivingly scattered head. "I must find Llorimand and tell him of this wonderful news! There he is! Oh, Llorimand!" She raised her voice to a group of elves a distance away and floated off toward them, one hand waving in the air.

Morning didn't come soon enough to the Elven City of Abaradell. Mia wanted to set out upon their journey as soon as possible. Not that she didn't like the beautiful city or enjoy the company of the wonderful elves it hosted; not that at all. It was that things troubled her. She feared sleep, having for the most part come to the decision that she wanted nothing more than to stay in Morrah. She feared that if she fell asleep she might be transformed back to her home. Right now she did not want that to happen, considering what she was to deal with upon her return to Earth. With the adventures that Morrah had, she most certainly wanted to remain here. Not to mention how she was beginning to feel about Prince Carameth of the elves. Home meant school, homework, little brother, mental institution. It also meant mom, Susan, a small select group of friends. She knew that not only would they not notice her absence, but soon she would be able to go home or be in Morrah whenever she wanted. At least that's what she understood. Sometimes it seemed so distant.

Mia's Stand, as Romessee called the tiny company (and the name seemed to stick; some elves were calling them Mia's Stand, too) said short good byes and left the fair city of Abaradell after a hearty breakfast. The elves were not as involving when it came to departure as the Mumbwe were, perhaps because they were not nomadic. Supervised by the ever-competent Belemeriath, the horses had been packed by the same elves that had been charged with their care. Even the clean, refreshed horses seemed to be anxious to get on with the journey.

They traveled south through the towering mountains, climbing even higher until they started seeing snow. Romessee had donned boots, something she was very unused to, given her by the elves. She was grateful for the protection from the cold snow they encountered. She was somewhat clumsy in them; her people rarely wore footwear of any kind, always on the move from north to south in the winter and south to north in the summer, for they followed the fairer season.

They stopped for the evening while a light drizzle fell. It chilled the night air. Romessee set up the tent and tried to show Mia how it went up easily, though Mia didn't quite grasp her technique. The four of them were sitting on their bedrolls inside the tent. Candles lit their conversation. Belemeriath had stayed behind in Abaradell to visit with friends, vowing to catch up with them. Mia had no doubt that the little fairy could quickly find them when he wanted to.

Romessee's feet had a few blisters on them. "These boots hurt my feet," she complained as she pulled a deer hide boot from her steaming foot, two days into their trip. Until now, she had said not a word about her discomfort. Mia reached into a bag she carried.

"Here, Rom. I made these when I was at Marigaff's Farm." She held out a pair of socks of a thick flannel-like material.

"What are these for?" Romessee asked.

"They're socks! They go on your feet, and you put your boots on over them."

"Oh. Yes. I knew that. Miagaff, I can't take these from you!"

"It's okay, dear," Mia said, using the word 'dear' with intent, for it seemed the thing for wizards to do. "I have others, and besides, I hardly wear them anymore." That was true. Mia had made the socks some weeks after her arrival at Marigaff's Farm. By the time she had finished making them, she'd become used to the thin stockings typical of Awllander garb. Romessee thanked Mia and accepted the gift, later to be grateful for the socks, as they proved to minimize the blistering on her feet. With the wearing chill growing in the higher elevations and spent from a long ride, they all slept well that night.

"This is the highest point we will see," Carameth told Mia. "This is one of the highest passes in the range, so from here, it's mostly downhill."

"And for the next few days," Finnegaff said, "we will be passing through the South Elfwood Range."

"Yes," Carameth answered. "Yes, we will!" They exchanged smiles.

"What?" Mia knew they knew something she didn't know that they weren't telling her. That drove her crazy above and beyond all other things. "What is it? What about the South Elfwood Range?" She frowned and looked back and forth from Finnegaff to Carameth to Romessee.

"Things are different here," Carameth began.

"Well," Finnegaff started, "Yes. The South Elfwood Range has residual magic from the Elves of Old. It's the only place in the world like it."

"You will see things here that you will see nowhere else," added Romessee.

"Like what?" Mia was going to pry this out of them if she had to.

"Like misdirected magic. Sometimes things happen that seem to come from nowhere." Finnegaff was giving those evasive answers he liked to give. Mia thought he did this just to irritate her. And perhaps he did.

"But nothing harmful!" Carameth said. "Usually."

"Usually?" Mia looked at the handsome elf.

"Once the Shadowlight Stand was in the South Elfwoods when a tree grabbed one of our horses." Romessee said.

"A tree grabbed a horse?" Mia said. "Was it a halftree?"

"No," Romessee replied. "Just a regular tree. It had the horse all tangled up in its branches. But Ameretegaff used Saa and the tree stopped. We had to cut the horse out."

"I was hunting in South Elfwood when a bear spoke to me," Carameth said. "She told me to please not hunt here, as she had some cubs nearby, but if I wanted to kill a bear, kill the big brown one that lived on the other side of the ridge, because none of the other bears liked him."

"What did you do?" Finnegaff asked.

"I hunted the big brown bear. The other bears were most grateful."

"A bear talked to you?" Mia said. "Bears don't talk!"

"They used to, at least some of them," Finnegaff said. "I've been amazed by lots of weird stuff in South Elfwood myself."

"Like what? You mean..." Mia never finished, for as she asked the question, a whooshing sound came from a flash of white speeding through the snow, much like a skier going downhill very, very fast, so fast that Mia couldn't see who or what it was. Whatever it was, it defied gravity by going uphill. Another followed. This one Mia saw.

"Coldsliders!" Carameth identified the speedy objects. What looked like snowmen about eighteen inches tall began speeding about them, passing near their horses. Mia held on tight, expecting that her horse might spook. Rosielle and the other horses were unconcerned. In moments the woods around them were full of giggling coldsliders, weaving between trees at Belemeriath-like speeds. They astounded Mia.

"These are old Elven magic?" she asked.

"Yes, at its best!" Finnegaff smiled at the entertaining coldslider's antics as they played about the wood. "They won't come close and you'll never catch one. But don't even try to touch them!"

"Why not?" Mia asked, watching the gleeful coldsliders.

"Well, you see..." Finnegaff started. He was interrupted by the familiar sound of fairy wing beats.

"If you touch one, you will turn to ice." Belemeriath hovered in front of Mia's horse, then charged after a coldslider, keeping pace with it. The coldslider, aware the fairy was following him, sped up and increased the quick turns through the trees, playing follow the leader with the hyper little fairy. After several short minutes, the coldsliders were gone.

"Coldsliders are my favorite!" Belemeriath said, wired from his chase game. He flew to Mia and Carameth. "You should try it some time!" Mia laughed at him. He flew to Romessee. "You could do it, Rom! You could do it!"

"I don't think so, friend fairy! Coldsliders are much too fast for me!"

"So these coldsliders," Mia looked at Carameth, something she would find any excuse to do, "just come out of nowhere? Do you see them often?"

"No. Usually only when there's..." He abruptly stopped his sentence as he remembered something he should not have forgotten. He glanced at Finnegaff.

Finnegaff nodded and looked around the woods as he held his hand up, signaling the party to stop.

"Only when there's what?" Mia asked.

"Quiet!" Finnegaff hushed her. From behind them they could hear something approaching through the woods. Whatever it was, it made no effort to be stealthy. Mia could hear sticks upon the ground snapping under footfall. Whatever it was, it wasn't far behind. It sounded big.

"Darkhounds!" exclaimed Carameth. He reached for his bow. Romessee did the same.

"Don't use Saa except as a last resort!" Finnegaff warned the companions. "Ride!" He spurred his horse to a gallop. The others followed. Finnegaff went first, then Mia, Romessee, and Carameth took the rear. Mia's heart raced. The darkhounds crashed through the trees. Their eerie howls chilled her spine as they closed in on their quarry. She saw Carameth turned backward on his horse, letting go arrows, an occasional howl emitting from their hunters when his arrow met its mark. Mia had heard that a darkhound could catch a horse when running on all fours. She held on to the saddle horn with an iron grip. It wasn't enough. As her horse cleared a fallen log, Mia was thrown. She landed hard on her back, the wind knocked out of her.

Carameth stopped with her. He fired arrows back into the attacking darkhounds. "Finnegaff!" he called.

The wizard saw that Mia was down and pulled his gray steed about. Romessee had already dismounted and was beside Mia. Mia tried to stand but was unable. Clutching her side, she fell again. She drew her sword as she came to her knees. Her hands shook the sword, for she could now see the dark shapes of the darkhounds within the forest. They were grouping to attack. Carameth dismounted and took place in front of Mia, brandishing his sword. Finnegaff was on the ground with his sword drawn. The frightened horses ran. The party pulled in tight just as the darkhounds descended on them.

Chapter 14

Marigaff walked with Aaramerielle about the perimeter of Scheramm's Lake. They had been out a week or so. Marigaff assured Aaramerielle that they surely were being watched and that their plan was working. The thick groves of trees that grew at the edge of the hundred miles of the lake's southernmost shore made good cover from anyone who might advance on them from the treeless plains to the south. During the day, the air was warm; scant undergrowth and trodden paths made the going easy. A fire at night was not an uncommon sight, since many travelers camped on the shores of Scheramm's Lake en route to wherever they were bound. They even ran in to several small groups of wayfarers each day. They camped in a thicket of trees where they built a small fire, thus having a means to ward off the spring chill. They took turns standing watch, backs to the fire so to not ruin their night vision; one could not be too careful. They were, after all, very close to where the Plains of Rhammahadra met the mountains of the dark land of Slagg, where, as everyone knows, unexpected things happened.

Marigaff had taken her turn at watch. The air was cool at that wee hour of the morning when she awakened Aaramerielle to relieve her. Not that she needed relief; she could go days without sleep, and had never been sure if the ability was a gift of Saa or a curse of immortality. Her motivation was her novice in training: this was part of that training. Marigaff had just turned on her side in her bedroll to try to go to sleep when she heard Aaramerielle gasp. She reached for her knife as she bolted into a sitting position. Aaramerielle was captive, held by two Slagg humans dressed in uniforms of the dark sorceress' army. Marigaff sprang to her feet into a defensive position, but her attempt was quickly thwarted. Two more soldiers subdued her from behind. Their rough grips knocked the knife from her hand. She struggled, yet in vain, for the soldiers easily overpowered her. From the forest came their commanding officer, a young, rough-looking Slagg, filthy more from lifestyle than travel. He laughed wickedly, a dry, raspy laugh as he picked up the knife Marigaff had intended to assault them with. His laughter grew. His comrades joined him. They had been hiding in the surrounding trees with a host of darkhounds. Soon the whole group of assailants were laughing, some a little too hard. The officer held the knife he'd taken from the sorceress in the air and the laughter slowly died, a decrescendo over many minutes. The officer waited patiently, hand with knife aloft. He spoke only when silence was total.

"You wage war with one such as I with this?" he said through clenched teeth. Sweat matted his long black hair to his narrow face as he held the knife inches in front of Marigaff's eyes. She didn't flinch. He slowly lowered the knife. He spat in her face. Still, she did not move. He turned as if to walk away, then spun to deliver a solid fist to her stomach. She doubled over. He stood her upright, lifting her by a handful of hair. He backhanded her with great force. The slap hurt. Her neck muscles shocked and she nearly vomited.

The two who held Aaramerielle had hoisted her off her feet. They held her aloft, then slammed her to the ground. They held her as she struggled uselessly, then tied her hands to her feet with a long rawhide leather cord, leaving half of a meter of slack cord between the feet and enough slack between the hands and feet so that she could stand straight, yet could not raise her arms. Her captors likewise tied Marigaff, the leather cords tight, sharp, abrasive. They were then tethered together by a four-foot long stick two inches in diameter, each of them bound by the neck to either end of the pole. The Slaggs took their horses, ransacked their belongings and threw those items which were not of interest to them into the fire. Despite the dark of night, they forced march on the two women. They weren't twenty feet when Marigaff, behind Aaramerielle, saw one of the Slaggs trip her. When she went down, she pulled Marigaff with her by the thin strip of hard leather cord around her neck. The Slaggs laughed. They struggled to stand, being ordered to do so by the shouting officer, who kicked them as they tried to regain their balance. For two days they walked thus; Marigaff had to be thrown belly down over a horse for some time when she collapsed. The Slaggs allowed them little water and no food at all during their trek across the plains to the evil land of Slagg.

Chapter 15

The darkhounds assembled for attack. They were close enough that Mia could see strings of drool, white froth, spraying from long, wolf-like mouths when the man-dogs snapped at empty air. Some clawed at the ground with all fours, sending streams of dirt behind them, their black, angry eyes locked on her. One let out a low, loud growl; another arched its back and yelped. Yet another threw its head back and howled. They walked back and forth among themselves not twenty yards from Mia's Stand, never releasing their predatory gazes from their quarry, looking for an opportunity.

Carameth took a stance beside Finnegaff. One darkhound, one of the few with a sword, lunged at them. Carameth met his charge with a low duck and a quick slice, sending the wounded animal whining back to its ranks. The unorganized darkhounds were cautious about moving against the waving blades. Two of them advanced on Finnegaff. The old wizard's blade flashed a dance that repelled the advance. Three others came at him from his left. He was aided by Carameth's advanced training with the sword when the elf warded off several darkhounds himself. He swung full circle, his quick blade defending the old wizard. He pivoted and returned to his own fight. One darkhound threw a rock the size of an orange on a collision course with Romessee's back. Belemeriath foiled the throw by striking the stone in mid flight, diverting its trajectory. Romessee shot stone after stone from her sling, hitting most targets she selected. A dozen or so darkhounds were down. Many still stood, and were attempted to regroup. Mia was on her feet, holding her sword before her, though the others were careful to protect her. No darkhound was permitted to get too close to them. The band of darkhounds managed to organize. Finnegaff knew the darkhounds were about to figure out that a mass rush would bring them victory. He held Lebethtro Larra before him.

Suddenly the forest came alive with coldsliders. The first of the little snowmen slammed at high speed into one of the darkhounds. The coldslider exploded on contact. The darkhound howled. He had been turned into a white, frosty ice, frozen in mid-howl. The darkhounds scattered in fear, but the coldsliders were much too fast for them. None escaped their icy wrath. Within seconds not a darkhound remained standing that was not frozen solid.

"I didn't know they would do that!" Finnegaff said. How could he be so calm?!

"The magic of the mountain doesn't fare well with darkhounds any more than we do," Carameth said firmly, sheathing his sword after wiping the blood from it in the snow. "We've seen this before. What worries me is that darkhounds are here in Elfwood."

"Its the Reading of the Book of Life that motivates them. Any of these fellows would want to be the one to take the Book to the dark sorceress in hopes of reward or favor. Humph." He snorted. "They weren't sent by their master. They're a bunch of renegades that attack any small group they find in hopes of randomly stumbling across their prize."

"Would somebody please tell me what just happened?!" Mia said. Nobody had paid her much heed once it was learned that she was okay.

"We were attacked by darkhounds," Finnegaff said.

"I know that! But what about the rest of it?" Mia still gripped her sword with trembling hands. Her aching ribs caused her to wince and lean to one side.

"Well, the coldsliders allied with us and helped to defeat the darkhounds."

"Yes, I KNOW that!" Mia clenched her sword.

"There's not much more to tell," Finnegaff said.

"They were after the Book of Life, and wanted to kill all of us to get it," Romessee said.

"Well, it almost worked." Mia mumbled. She was sickened by the battlefield scene, yet was unable to take her eyes from the morbid attraction. The majority of the dead were ice statues, eerie, opaque sculptures forever frozen in mid-action.

"What do you mean, Finnegaff," Romessee asked, "that these were not sent by their master? If she didn't send them, who did?"

"What I mean, friends, is that the dark sorceress doesn't know where we are," Finnegaff said. Carameth was nodding in agreement.

"How do you know that?" asked Mia.

"Had she known where we are, we would've encountered a division of her army, not these...these commoners."

"Commoners?!" Mia exclaimed. "These aren't soldiers?" Mia looked at a dead darkhound's light armor.

"Had they been soldiers," Carameth said, "we wouldn't have had such an easy battle."

"True," said Finnegaff. He looked at the ground and stroked his beard. "Things could have been much worse."

They gathered a few of the items that had been lost from the horses during the skirmish. Carameth and Romessee took arrows out of darkhound corpses to be used again, liberated a few darkhound knives, and then destroyed any weapons they did not want. It took some time to round up the scattered horses. With stealth and great caution, the little group then made their way down the canyon.

Chapter 16

Krobbah had slid through the woods when the coldsliders attacked the band of marauders. He had reluctantly joined them to secure the Book of Life for his queen. Surely the one who presented the Book to her would be bestowed a most handsome reward!

The Carrier of the Book of Life was powerful, he had observed. They made snow balls that wiped out a party of nearly forty darkhounds! Surely that was whom they had encountered; no other could yield such great power. Krobbah, of course, did not know about the South Elven wood, about the straying magic, for as everyone knows, darkhounds rarely ventured into Elfwood. His small army had been defeated. Now his mission was clear to him: he must run to the queen to tell her where the Carrier of the Book of Life was.

For two days he followed the party south onto the plains of Rhammahadra. When he was sure where they were going, he veered west at a dead run. A young darkhound in good shape such as he could run as fast as a horse for days, stopping only seldom to drink. On all fours, their build was ideal for sprinting, the rib cage expanding and contracting in sync with their gate, forcing inhalation and exhalation. The long legs were designed for striding, making sprinting nearly as easy as walking upright. As he ran, he dreamed of the likely reward he would be bestowed. He was also motivated in thinking of what would befall him should he not make good time to his queen.

Chapter 17

Elfwood bordered the north central region of Centauria with Awlland to the northeast. The dead country of Slagg bordered from the western shores at the Maximus Ocean to the north to Sheramm's Lake, which was nestled between Elfwood and Slagg for some hundred or so lake front miles. The vast Plains of Rhammahadra spanned from the Maximus Ocean to the Minimus Ocean, the entire width of Morrah's largest of three continents, largest threefold of the other two combined. The plains spread deep into the south, including the twenty mile wide coast to coast strip of land between southern Centauria and Mantadia, the Land of Lost Memories, to finally terminate where land met sea. It is to say that the Plains of Rhammahadra were very, very big. It was onto these plains that Mia's Stand did enter from the southeast corner of Elfwood. It was also onto these same plains, a hundred miles to the west, that Marigaff and Aaramerielle had been captured before being taken to Slagg, two day's hard march to the west.

The two sat bound back to back in a hut made of adobe mixed with straw. Few buildings in Slagg were of wood; there were now few indigenous trees from which to build. Slagg humans built the twenty-foot diameter hut. The Slagg patrol had liberated this particular hut for their Captain to use as his command post, and the heads of the evicted tenants were on pikes a quarter of a mile down the road, giving those who didn't belong there an understanding of the extent of their welcome. A small table with a single chair was the only furniture in the adobe hut, if it could at all be called furniture. A raven was tethered to a post at the only window. The bird stared at them with black, unblinking eyes. The small room didn't stink much, at least not when the Slaggs weren't there. Right now the two women were alone.

"How is your head, dear?" Marigaff said through parched, swollen lips, one eye blackened from a blow she'd taken.

"It does hurt, Lady Marigaff." Aaramerielle had a goose egg on her forehead from a fall aided by their abductors. She blinked hard, having trouble focusing her eyes. "Why did they leave us alone?"

"I believe they've summoned their commander," she said. She appeared unwell, she being unprepared for the forced march they'd taken, not in the top physical condition Aaramerielle was. Not that Aaramerielle herself looked all that good. Both had undergone considerable beating. "This will soon be over, child. When they discover that we are not who they seek, they will try to kill us. But I assure you that will not happen."

"What will we do?"

"Oh, I don't know. Something dreadful, I can assure you. They've not been proper hosts." Marigaff smiled in spite of the pain in doing so. They fell silent for a while. Soon one of the guards outside snapped the cloth doorway open. The commander strode in.

He was big, big even for a Slagg, which was probably how he got the job of commander in the first place, brutality being the driving factor for chain of command in the field for this army. He was ugly as a gnort. His brown stringy hair was matted and his rusted light armor was stained with blood. The rest of his filthy loose clothing might have been gray at one time. Maybe. The insignia on his breast, two swords crossed over a blue diamond, marked him as a Captain.

"The Book. Hand it over!"

"How shall I, that you have bound our hands?" Marigaff said. The Captain struck her a hard backhand across the face. It sent them both to the floor. One at a time he pulled them to their feet by the hair, then, at the same time, slammed them into the wall face first, the old adobe dusting their eyes.

"Do not toy with me, wench!" His voice was a gritty whisper as he frisked her. Striding to where the large black raven was tethered, he said something to the spy bird, then pointed out the window. He released the black raven from the tether. The obedient bird flew fast away.

He threw the women to the ground. "Where is it?"

"As you can see, we have it not." Marigaff smiled at him.

"You think you're funny?" he roared as he drew his sword.

Marigaff used Saa: "Nah Slagg o onso remma korotah anso maas beleteel!" (This Slagg and all his lessors be you crickets!)

The Slagg Captain dropped his sword as his eyes widened. A green glow surrounded him. In seconds he was transformed into a cricket. A seven foot, three hundred pound cricket. Aaramerielle's quick reflexes fixed the problem. "Eme haska beleteel!" (A small cricket!) The Captain then shrunk to a mere inch long.

Marigaff spoke in a normal tone. "Nahayan anso lok duo!" (Bonds be off us!). The leather thongs binding them loosed their cutting grip and fell to the ground. She went on: "Ete shomosn o torolia." (Two ales and fruit). Two large mugs of ale appeared on the table with a bowl of various fruits, including the nourishing, healing motherberry. Marigaff grabbed her ale. She drank. "I needed a drink," she said, her voice a little clearer. "So do you, dear." Aaramerielle drank of her ale. She took a few motherberries and handed some to Marigaff.

"What about the Slaggs outside?" Aaramerielle lowered her mug in alarm.

"I took care of them, too. Tonight they shall chirp a love song." Both of them were too spent to laugh.

Chapter 18

Mia's Stand moved down the canyon, out through the widening mouth of the rocky pass onto the Plains of Rhammahadra without any event other than the darkhound attack. They never saw another coldslider, but they did see a mile long grove of aspens that had grown with their trunks tied into a single knot, about two feet off the ground, each and every one of them.

"The Old Elf magic at times works slowly here as it happened to this poplar. This isn't a grove of trees. It's single plant effected by the magic." He pointed out the trees to the party. "It takes time to use Saa or any form of force, and that time can be seconds or years."

"Then somebody did this?" Mia asked. "Kind of stupid, isn't it? What a waste of magic!"

"Well, no. Nobody did this. The magic works on its own. It moves, like an eddying pool, but mostly it doesn't do anything. But sometimes it surfaces, and when it does, it forms coldsliders or other things, or causes little problems like this." He smiled and gestured to the knotted gigantic organism. "Usually, it's harmless."

"Usually?" Mia said.

As they continued through the hills, Mia listened to Belemeriath's wild stories to pass the time. Some she may have even believed. Suddenly Finnegaff, who had remained silent for some time, broke in. "They're free. They've been discovered." He nodded small nods and peered at Carameth through squinted eyes.

Carameth returned the look. "That's right, good wizard. They're free, and I'll bet that we'll be discovered pretty soon, too."

Mia hated it when they talked about subjects that she just knew had something to do with her, yet had no idea what they were talking about. Wizards have a way of doing that, she noted. She wondered if someday she would talk like them, in mysteries driven by causes known but to her, if those around her would be in the dark as she was now, and if she would relish the effect it had on others the way that Finnegaff obviously did. "Who's they?" she asked.

"Marigaff," Finnegaff said.

"And Aaramerielle," Carameth finished. "They've been in some considerable pain; I could feel the Nahaya. I more Aaramerielle than Marigaff, Finnegaff more Marigaff than Aaramerielle."

"It's how Nahaya works. From now on we gotta be on our guard. Belemeriath can scout, and we better post night watches."

"I'll scout! I'm a good scout!" Belemeriath buzzed around the horses, then took off across the plain to scout.

"Belemeriath, my friend!" Finnegaff spoke in normal tone. Belemeriath, now just a point of light (the form he would assume for rapid travel), approached a small swell in the land some fifty yards out. Despite the distance, he heard Finnegaff, turned and sped back the direction he had come.

"First let's decide where you're gonna scout," Finnegaff reminded his tiny yet mighty friend.

"Oh!" smiled Belemeriath. "I guess that would help."

"What happened to Aaramerielle and Marigaff?" Mia said.

"They were put to some considerable pain," Finnegaff said.

"But they used Saa. They wouldn't have done so had they not been foiled," Carameth said.

"Yeah," Mia said. "I felt Marigaff's and Aaramerielle's Saa, too, but..."

"Belemeriath," Finnegaff said. "I think south would be best."

"But, what was..." Mia began.

"Right! South!" Belemeriath put his tiny hand to his chest in salute and sped off.

"Would somebody please tell me what is going on here?" Mia was visibly upset, which caused Finnegaff little concern. Carameth, however, was greatly attentive, his look one of an eagerness to please. Mia was certainly flattered.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" he apologized. Finnegaff rolled his eyes. Carameth appeared as a little boy confessing a horrible injustice to his mother. Mia's heart softened to the handsome elf's innocence, taking her anxiety with it. "We Morrans can feel things that happen to those we're close to through Saa. The closer we are to them, the stronger the feeling. It's called Nahaya."

"Yeah, I know that," she replied. "How do you know Marigaff and Aaramerielle were hurt? How do you know it's them, and not someone else close to you?"

"It can be felt," Finnegaff said. "One can feel differences with Saa that are particular to a single person. That is, I know it's Marigaff because of the way it felt. It was Marigaff's Nahaya."

"Like, you get a picture, kind of like when you use Saa?"

"Well, yes and no." Carameth said. No! Not Carameth too! He's not a wizard! "It's more like a picture of feelings than of things." At least he didn't follow his 'yes and no' with some Finnegaff-like confusing half explanation.

"Each has their own love for another," Romessee said. "Each love can be told by its type, as one loves a child different than a husband."

"Then how come I didn't feel anything?" Mia asked them. "I know Saa!"

"It's that part of Saa that's absent from you that allows you to Carry and Read the Book of Life," Finnegaff explained. "After the Reading, you'll have Nahaya like we do."

Mia nodded as if she understood. And understand she did, at least somewhat. All were focused on her. "Okay. Okay. But how do you know they're free? And what do you mean by free?"

Carameth was eager to answer. "We knew they were in pain, physical pain, with Nahaya. And it was steady for two days, I think." Finnegaff nodded in agreement. "Then they used Saa. Both of them. Several times. Then the pain ceased, or at least lessened."

Finnegaff leaned forward on his horse and plucked a mane hair and flamed it to light his pipe. Strange, Mia thought, that she never saw him load anything into the pipe, yet it was always full.

"But how do you know they didn't...they didn't..." Mia said.

"Didn't what, dear?" Finnegaff asked.

"Die?" She had been worried about just that for her two friends from the very start.

"Die?" Finnegaff laughed a low chuckle. "No. They're not dead. Marigaff wouldn't let Aaramerielle die, and she's far too stubborn herself! Believe me, I know!"

"When there is death, the Nahaya is at first very strong and hurtful, then one of great peace." Carameth had pulled his horse next to Mia's and reached out to take her hand in his, only the second time he had touched her. Mia gripped his hand firmly yet gently. "It is unfortunate that the only way one can learn of such Nahaya is to experience it a few times."

"But you're sure they're not dead," Mia asked Carameth. It was not that she doubted Finnegaff. She was stalling because she didn't want Carameth to let go of her hand. He smiled, gave her hand a little squeeze and released. Mia looked into the beautiful elf's deep blue teardrop eyes. She wondered, not for the first time, how old he was, and that she might not want to know.

"Yes, I'm very certain. But they used Saa," he firmed his earlier statement. "They wouldn't have done so had they not been discovered. That's why we need to be careful." Carameth turned his horse and followed Finnegaff.

Romessee pulled up next to her. Reading her emotions, the ever-present Yamasaa led her words. Yamasaa was, after all, in what she was gifted. "It's a dangerous land, sometimes. And yes, sometimes I think it's too harsh, too."

Mia shook her head in awe at the accuracy of Romessee's ability to read her, for she knew the Mumbwe's Yamasaa to be the means for her truthful yet not so comforting statement. "Yeah. That was what I was thinking."

"What's it like on your home world?" Romessee asked.

"Oh, it's not anything like this." Thinking of planet Earth, she found she missed it very little. "There's cars and lots of people, huge buildings, airplanes and stores and malls, factories, stuff like that. The air smells nicer here." She'd noticed that long ago. "And there's police and armies, and they protect people so other people don't hurt them."

"There are many armies here," Romessee said.

"Not like these armies. They have bombs that can blow up entire cities!"

Romessee didn't understand everything Mia had told her; the vocabulary on her part was lacking, as some of the comparatives Mia spoke of did not, more so could not exist on Morrah. "So these pol...pal..."

"Police."

"Yes, police. They don't allow harm to come to others?"

Mia thought about gang wars, murders, drive by shootings; of people starving in the streets of the very city from where she came, the many varying subjects of just about any television news cast. Her parents had administered early childhood warnings to not accept a ride from a stranger, and later childhood warnings to stay away from dark, unpopulated areas of the city at night. She thought of drug dealers pushing dope off on elementary aged kids, and of the World Trade Center attack. She thought of what her Mumbwe friend asked: if the police of her world do not allow harm to come to others. "They try, Rom. I think they really try." Suddenly Morrah didn't seem to be such a violent place.

They camped out on the plains that evening. Mia and Romessee made a game of how fast they could set up the tent. Belemeriath reported no troubles ahead, yet Finnegaff posted watch that night anyway. Thus fared Mia's Stand for the next few days. Mia visited with Romessee, Carameth with Mia. The three were getting close. Mia found the kind Romessee pleasantly chatty (and fashion queen of Shadowlight Stand, fashion being one of Mia's favorite subjects). Carameth was...hot, was the first word to come to mind. He was beautiful, strong, smart, a perfect gentleman. Most in his favor was that he paid a great deal of attention to Mia. Oh! And don't forget that he was a prince, too! He wasn't even jealous of Belemeriath. Belemeriath, on the other hand, did a fair job of concealing that he was just a little jealous of Carameth. But only fair.

Belemeriath was a delight. Mia found that the more time she spent with the little fairy, the more she liked him. Though most certainly he could, at times, be annoying, he was indeed an amazing creature with very surprising talents. She loved the rough way he and Finnegaff played. It was as if Finnegaff barely tolerated the fairy. She could tell the wizard did in fact love him dearly.

There were a few times when Mia spoke without thinking about what she was saying and barely stopped herself from calling Finnegaff grandpa. She had grown fond of him. In fact, Mia was fond of her whole little Stand. She liked the sound of that. Mia's Stand. As of late, her natural home was but a distant, infrequent thought. Morrah was exciting to her! It held fascinating creatures, some pleasing, some repulsive. It had magic, real magic. She was important here, received a lot of attention, and though she tried to not be too transparent, she did love that part. Morrah had adventure, with surprises in its vast wilderness. And Morrah had Carameth. She looked across the small campfire Belemeriath had built at the handsome prince seated on a log, who was whittling a delicate little figurine out of wood, a pastime for which he exhibited great skill. He looked up at her, smiled one of those 'killer smiles' that burned an exciting discomfort from within.

Small fallen logs were the biggest geographical obstacles Mia's Stand had to overcome. The path they navigated followed the snaking two hundred yard-wide North Steel River, said path sometimes scarcely detectable or disappearing completely, having been intentionally designed to stay near the water wherever it was possible, which is where, it is well known, trees grow in profusion. The cover was thickest there, which is why those that had something to hide commonly took this path, those less than honest citizens that felt compelled to a hidden means of travel as they went from escapade to escapade. An alternate path, a road which in some places conjoined to become one with the trail Mia's party had chosen, ran the same general direction, offering less concealment, a road said to be of more comfort for travel yet did not host opportunity for stealth. It was for this reason of secrecy in their passage that Finnegaff selected the path meant for thieves.

Belemeriath took the undergrowth to treetops as an open invitation to show off, taking advantage of the irregularly growing flora by making obstacle courses of them. "Okay!" he said. "You see that big oak tree?" His little hand pointed as he hovered a foot to Romessee's left."Over the lowest branch, circle it three times." Both girls paid close attention. "Through the willows over there, to that big cedar." He flew to Mia and stabbed a finger in the air. "You see it? You see it?"

"Yes, I see it!" Mia was trying not to laugh.

"Then, straight up that tree to its tippy-top and over to the next tree and straight down it. And I'll even weave through the branches. Then over to Finnegaff's hat, and I'll circle it five times real close."

"I don't think so, imp," Finnegaff said.

Belemeriath continued as if his wizard friend had said nothing. "Then, Mia will hold out her hand and I'll land in it, since it was Rom's turn last time. I can do it in five seconds. Wanna bet? Wanna bet?"

Finnegaff waved a finger at the fairy. "Don't do it, fairy! I'm warning you!"

"I'm down!" Romessee had picked up the foreign phrase from Mia, the tone of her voice encouraging the game to gain momentum. She, too, ignored Finnegaff.

"Now, just wait..."

"I'm down!" Mia said.

"Belemeriath!" Finnegaff yelled, but it was too late. Twinkling into a pinpoint of light, off like a shot was Belemeriath, across the meadow to the old oak he had promised to climb.

"ONE!" the girls shouted together. Belemeriath sped around the lower branch three times so fast that it was difficult to count them. He sped to the willows, weaving among their thin, close-packed red branches at blurring speeds.

"TWO!" The girls shouted. The fairy emerged at the other side of the ten-foot wide thicket of willow. He screamed toward the cedar, turned straight up the tree, so sharp was the angle that he missed where trunk meets dirt by less than an inch. He wove about the many branches, coming so close to them that he would in fact strike one on occasion. The company could tell when he hit one, for they would hear noisy 'twacks' that left behind a small shower of bark chips spraying from a trembling branch. Not that it slowed him down at all. Not that they could see, anyway.

"THREE!" This time Carameth joined in. Belemeriath cleared the highest point of the fifty-foot cedar. He rocketed to the next tree and plunged downward. Finnegaff grabbed his hat on his head with both hands. Belemeriath sped, really sped to the bottom of the tree. He bee-lined toward Finnegaff.

"NO!" Finnegaff shouted.

"FOUR!" Shouted everybody else. Belemeriath reached Finnegaff's hat. Finnegaff, acting in his own defense, removed his hat and swatted at the speeding point of light. Finnegaff waving the hat about wildly did not stop Belemeriath from circling the cone of the hat five times from top to bottom, maintaining a distance of a mere inch. He sped to Mia.

"FIVE!" They all yelled and cheered. Carameth laughed so hard he fell from his horse (kind of on purpose). Finnegaff leaned back on his horse and laughed his nose red, his hat held in front of him as the girls cheered hooray's for their little show-off. Belemeriath stood proudly in Mia's outstretched palm, arms crossed before him, his chest puffed out in pride with his eyes closed. Suddenly his arms shot downward as he bent at the knees.

"Quiet!" he said. He twinkled into a pinpoint of light and sped off in the direction they were heading.

Finnegaff heeded his friend's warning by holding a hand into the air. All silenced.

"What's going on?" asked Mia.

"He heard something. Let's move our horses into that thicket over there." He pointed to a grove of a variety of trees with low, thick shrubs some twenty yards down wind to their left. They dismounted and led their horses off the trail far enough into the trees that there was no chance of being seen from the trail. The warm afternoon wind blew hard from the right, helping to mask sound. They stood close together in a place where they could see through the dense foliage. Mia went to say something, but Finnegaff held up a finger. They stood there silently for several minutes. Soon they could hear voices. A dozen very unfriendly looking men dressed in heavy leather or chain mail or both came in to view, staggering down the path carrying spears, swords strapped to their waists, all on foot. They spoke loudly, laughed and slapped each other on the back as they passed three one gallon clay jugs between themselves. Each drank greedily from any jug he could grab at any time. Mia stood very still. She thought she might give away their hiding place with the sound of her own pounding heart. In a minute, the band of men had crossed the clearing adjacent to their hiding place. They waited for a few minutes, by Finnegaff's suggestion, when from across the meadow flew Belemeriath.

"They're gone! They're gone!" Belemeriath said.

"They may yet pick up our trail," Finnegaff warned.

"No! No!" the fairy shook his head. "Did you see those guys? They were really drunk!" He held a tiny hand over his mouth and laughed.

"I think we might have stayed on the path and not been seen," Carameth said.

"Yes. Well, let's not take unnecessary chances. We gotta pick it up," Finnegaff said. "Slagg soldiers are used to being bombed. They're not easily fooled despite their indulgence."

"Slagg soldiers?" Mia asked.

Finnegaff nodded. "Mmm. A small detachment from the enemy's garrison."

"How do you know that?"

"Their uniforms," Carameth said. They walked their horses from the grove of trees. "They're lower ranking soldiers. Otherwise they wouldn't be so drunk."

"We gotta get outa here, friends," Finnegaff said. "I'm certain there's more about. If they..." Finnegaff's words were cut short by the whoosh of an arrow that missed him by only inches.

"Over there! Over there!" Belemeriath shouted. Across the meadow, the Slagg soldiers ran toward them at full speed. Another arrow whizzed by.

"RIDE!" Finnegaff cried. They brought the horses to a full run. Several more arrows were fired at them, but missed. Soon they were out of bow range.

They could hear the Slaggs yelling. Then they heard a long, drawn out howl: the battle cry of a darkhound. Mia looked behind to see a group of darkhounds running full speed across the meadow.

"Miagaff! Romessee!" Finnegaff yelled. "Take the lead!"

Mia's heart raced. She spurred her horse past Finnegaff and ran the old mare as hard as she could. She chanced a glance at the pursuing man dogs. They were quickly gaining.

Chapter 19

The tired black raven was driven by the power of Essaa, the dark, evil magic of the land of Morrah, controlled by the dictatorship ruling of his queen, Eringaff the Dark Sorceress. He flapped his way toward the castle, finally in sight after many hours of flight. In the distance he could see the motionless silhouette of his mistress holding Maraska pon Durk. She awaited his tidings poised tall in the window of the highest of the castle towers, the place where he was required to report to her. He glided the last of the distance and perched upon the windowsill. He relayed what the Captain of her detachment to the Plains of Rhammahadra had told him to his mistress, that those envisioned by the Stracombe were two women, neither of which had the Book of Life, that they were not who she sought. Eringaff flew into an instant rage and backhanded the bird. Feathers flew as he was flung from the windowsill. The raven fell and tumbled half the hundreds of feet from the spire before he could regain flight. He glided to the branches of an ages dead half-uprooted tree that tilted precariously on the rocky slope that formed the base of the castle. He hated his job. Not that he had a choice. He felt fortunate, as fortunate as any scavenger positioned so low on the food chain could feel, that in the future he had many brothers and sisters who the dark sorceress might call upon in his stead for her selfish needs.

Eringaff crossed the room in three steps to the Stracombe, the bowl of seers, now filled with pure, clean water. She stood before it and trembled with rage. Her eyes shone red; she spit as she talked. "Corroth du su solomora Saatalle! Fross amande du!" (Show me the carriers of the Book of Life! Do not fail me!)

The swirling, creamy colors of the Stracombe began to unfold a picture: an old wizard; a young girl, also a wizard; an elf and a Mumbwe. A lesser fairy accompanied them. Belemeriath. It had to be. Few of the lesser fairies could be tolerated, their behavior so erratic. And most lesser fairies would not tolerate the slow, boring company of races not their own. She had since learned the name of the Carrier of the Book of Life: Mia. She looked at her enemy hard, studied her. Studied her movements. Studied her mannerisms. Laughed lightly at Mia's lack of horsemanship. She studied the aura of Saa, visible through the Stracombe, which surrounded her nemesis, noting it to be much thicker than that around her companion wizard. It couldn't be Finnegaff, that wretched has-been wizard. The magnitude of the aura indicated the girl to be much more powerful than her companion. Eringaff knew that it could not be so. She stood watching for hours, studying, ridiculing, criticizing, awaiting a recognizable landmark. Soon they crossed a familiar river. She smiled in a most sinister manner; not that she had another at her disposal, then left, destined for her chamber, where she would summon her general. She would then put her evil plan into effect. The Stracombe went dark when she exited the musty room.

Her chamber was well lit with many sizes of candles of varying shapes. The strong, intimidating stone gargoyles glistened black on their eternal perches about the room. Two of her servants were prone on the cold, polished, black with gray veined marble floor, two Slagg women, who had delivered Eringaff's evening meal. She dismissed them with a harsh command. "Tell the General I require audience with him." The two women sprang to their feet. They ran out the doorway to abide their queen's order. Eringaff sat reclined next to her supper and nibbled on a piece of meat the size of her fist, burnt to a crisp with a bloody, raw middle, as was her preference. She watched the door for her General, who promptly appeared. He strode in, saluted, right hand to chest and dropped to one knee, bowing his head.

"Yes, dark sorceress? I am anxious to serve!"

"You have no choice but to serve!" She spat a half-chewed mass of meat at him. It struck him on the top of the head then fell to the floor. He did not move. "General Mordak, your platoon has failed. The Stracombe has lied to me."

"Is not the Stracombe unable to lie?" Only too late did he realize his mistake in pointing out this well-known fact. He felt lightheaded with fear for his error.

"THE STRACOMBE LIED TO ME, YOU INCOMPETENT SWINE!!!" Eringaff threw the piece of meat she held at the darkhound, striking him on the chest. Her remaining dinner hit the floor. Dishes shattered and glasses broke as she capsized the entire table on which they were set. She took up Maraska pon Durk and turned her back on him, then strode to the window that overlooked the vast wastelands of Slagg, hair flying to her left side in the cold wind that blew in through the window from the north. Face reddened with twisted rage, she stood tall as she looked across the barrenness of her domain. All things within sight and beyond were turning black with the coming of night. Her staff firmly planted to the floor, she placed the other hand against the side of the window. Her hard, fast breathing hissed between clenched teeth as one hand clawed at the stone wall, repeatedly closing grip as if to remove a handful of the stubborn rock from the window frame. There she stood as she calmed down, much to the General's relief, for he had witnessed many times very painful punishment, even death, for lesser acts of insubordination than the one he had just committed. And she did feel like killing him then, had a most creative means to go about killing him slowly, yet knew he had not yet a competent replacement for himself. Not since she had changed his advisors into snakes, which she believed that in itself to be his design. She did in fact suspect he had arranged their irreversible change so that there would be no replacement for him, thinking she would have to spare him. The thought of her first in command committing such a blasphemy against her iced her to the depths of her pitch-black soul. His time would come. Oh, yes, it would come. Of this she was certain. But for now, she needed him alive. She curbed her blood lust, would sate it another time. She felt great pride at the ability she displayed for this self-restraint.

She spoke through clenched teeth, her voice shaking with rage. "They are at the North Steel River at this moment. In three day's time they will be at the Centaurian fortress of Blackmane's Point. You will take the swiftest of your armies and meet them there. And it is there you will get the Book of Life and return it to me immediately. I will send a Shadowrought to aid you. Go. You and your army shall depart now."

General Mordak did not have to be told twice. With a strong salute and bow, he pivoted in a military fashion, then strode out the opened door.

"Close the door, you moron!" The cruel queen yelled after him. He scampered back to the door and pulled it shut.

The shadowrought were the epitome of destruction. They were enslaved beings, captured by Essaa from another world. They were at no one's direction, having no mind of their own. They could be defeated, though not easily, yet could not be destroyed. They were not of Saa or Essaa, and thus it was unknown to all what they were capable of if left unchecked. Eringaff settled back in her chair to finish her meal, a slab of meat she picked from the floor. A knock beckoned upon her door. On her permission, her scribe humbly entered, his duty in part being to request audience for pre-screened visitors to the throne.

"Yes, Mobbliss?" she looked at the scribe.

He bowed as he spoke. "Begging her highness' pardon, great queen. A certain darkhound who would be called Krobbah requests audience. He claims to have acquired information on the Book of Life."

She was in need of a bit of amusement. "Bring him!" she commanded. The scribe exited the chamber and returned promptly with a darkhound commoner, who never would, never could be a soldier. He had not even enough sense to feel fear. And fear he should. Indeed, he should.

"Speak, dog!"

"Great queen, I have found the Book of Life for you! It is traveling south on the Plains of Rhammahadra and is now four days out from Elfwood." He held his hat in his hands in front of his stomach. "I have run for two days to tell you, great queen! Do I get a reward?" The greedy darkhound looked ridiculously stupid as he teetered back and forth. He was ridiculously stupid, she observed. Weren't they all.

"The information you give me is valuable, lowly dog. You shall have your reward. I am placing you in charge of the seventh alpha squad as their Captain. That shall be more than enough reward. Now you can serve me better. Be off, Captain Krobbah!" The darkhound left without the scribe, expecting a reward of a different color, certainly not this.

"Coward! You shall have your reward!" She laughed long and hard. "Mobbliss. Keep one of yours up with this new Captain and report to me what befalls him. And I want details!"

"As you command, dark sorceress!" He saluted, leaving the room in the manner required of him.

The seventh alpha squad was an elite force of highly trained darkhounds and Slagg men, the dark sorceress' pride, her personal guard. Captain Krobbah took immediate charge of alpha seven. The next day while on a field training exercise, the captain of the squad was mysteriously lost in the woods. His body was never found. Not that anyone actually looked for it.

Chapter 20

"Belemeriath!" Finnegaff hailed his little friend from his running horse. "How far to Blackmane's Point?"

"Over that hill!" Belemeriath pointed to a slight rise two hundred yards away. The darkhounds were close behind, very close indeed. Fear drove the horses on. The darkhounds growled and yipped as they ran. Carameth tried to fire a few arrows, but he nearly lost his balance. Mia's horse was wet with sweat and beginning to slow.

Sure enough, as they crested the hill, there in their path was a fortress. Neither plant nor rock over two inches in height was to be found for two hundred yards in any direction from the moat surrounding Blackmane's Point, affording no cover for enemies attempting assault on the compound. Mia's Stand entered the open ground with the darkhounds nipping at the heels of their horses.

A drawbridge was extended on the side facing them, and from it poured a dozen Centaurs armed with bows and broad swords. As soon as the darkhounds spotted the man horses, they made every attempt to turn and flee, but the momentum they'd developed prevented their escape from the fierce Centaurian guard.

Finnegaff held his staff high. "HOOO!" he yelled as he reigned in Grinnolle. The party halted some few yards from the drawbridge.

"That was close!" Romessee gasped, out of breath from the ride. By the time they'd turned to witness the fate of their adversaries, the Centaurs had chased the darkhounds over the hill. Three lay upon the ground, slain, yet no others could be seen.

Mia dismounted and hit the ground a little too hard. Her knees almost didn't hold her. She grabbed the saddle horn to hold herself up. Rosielle's breathing came hard. The horse nervously sidestepped. Mia took her reigns and stroked her jowl. "It's okay now," she told her horse. "It's okay," Mia's breath was ragged. "Man!"

The rest had dismounted. Carameth ran to Mia's side. "Are you okay?" he asked, ready to catch her should she fall. She grabbed his forearm and nodded, unable to speak.

"We gotta be more careful," Finnegaff remarked to no one in particular as he wiped his sweating hair from his forehead. "That was a little too close. Everyone okay?" He looked to each of them and received nods confirming their wellbeing.

Two Centaurs approached from the fortress, one male, and one female. They stopped half way to discuss something while surveying the party. They stood there for a few moments. By the time they continued their approach, all had regained their breath and relaxed, if only a bit.

"Great day, travelers!" the male called to them when they were within twenty yards. "That be a peculiar escort you do bring!"

"Great day, Fasthoof! Great day, Mare Starrelocke!" Finnegaff tipped his hat. Starrelocke's eyes widened. She smiled with a hand to her mouth. Fasthoof, son of King Stronghoof, Prince of Centauria and first contender to the throne looked at this old man who had run out of the woods from the desolate plain, pursued by savage darkhounds, who happened to know him by name. He squinted, trying to get a better look at Finnegaff as he came up on him. Then it struck him.

He threw up his arms and his eyes went wide. "Lord Finnegaff! It do be a delight!" Fasthoof clenched forearms with his old wizard friend. "How grand to see you!"

"Sir Fasthoof, you look as lean as ever!" Finnegaff told the Centaur, which, as everyone knows, is a very complimentary thing to say to a Centaur, but only if it's true.

"Me dear Finnegaff!" Starrelocke nearly sung her greeting. "I do be pleased you did outrun the dog men!"

"So are we," Mia mumbled.

"I were a wee bit concerned meself," Fasthoof added.

"And I'm glad we were close to the fortress when we ran in to them," Finnegaff said. "Thanks for your help. "

"The scent of war do linger on the wind," Fasthoof said. "We knew not that the enemy were so close in."

"Aye," agreed Starrelocke. "Alert is our must need." She smiled at the wizard. "Me dearest Lord Finnegaff!" They clasped forearms. "It do be a pleasure!"

"Mare Starrelocke! As beautiful as ever! What are you doing keeping company with this farm horse?" he thumbed in Fasthoof's direction. Finnegaff already knew the answer, had heard the news at the Meeting of the Wizard's Council, but wanted Starrelocke to tell him herself. Being not one for Mare talk, Fasthoof glanced away with crossed his arms. He saw where Finnegaff was leading the conversation, for he knew that wizards did that sort of thing.

Starrelocke ignored the gesture. "Guess, friend Finnegaff, what it is that Fasthoof and I hath done!" Her human half was agitating about the spine, her right hand held to the side of her pretty smiling face. Her long, nearly white blond hair glistened as it half hid her darkly tanned face. She was showing off the beautiful marriage bracelet fashioned of silver with fine bits of inlaid turquoise she had upon her wrist.

Finnegaff looked right at her. Puzzled, he shook his head. "Uh...you joined the Royal Guard?"

"No, silly! We be already enlisted to the Royal Guard!" She shook her right arm with the bracelet on it.

"You won the three legged race at the annual royal picnic?"

Starrelocke dropped her right arm to her side and looked up into the air. Fasthoof was laughing at her, but she was too involved in playing her guessing game with Finnegaff, who she believed at times to be a little slow to notice certain things. She acted as if she were brushing her hair from her face with her right hand. She held the bracelet inches from Finnegaff's face.

"Why, Starrelocke!" His eyes followed the bracelet. "What's this on your wrist?! Where did you get that? You...you and Fasthoof?!"

"AYE!" she yelled, arms outstretched. Finnegaff embraced her warmly. Starrelocke had to bend considerably to reach to hug him.

"My best wishes for you both!" He released the mare. Briefly the Centaur filled them in on the highlights of their marriage.

"Kind Centaurs, I would like you to meet Romessee, Carameth..." Finnegaff began introductions.

"Carameth we do know," said Fasthoof. "Great day, fair Prince of Elves!

"Great day, most kind Prince of Centauria!" Carameth grasped forearms with Fasthoof. Mia noted that Centaurs did not have any aversions to handshakes.

"How fares thine herd?" Fasthoof asked.

"We do well, sir Fasthoof. And your father?"

"An unending thorn in me side that I would allow nay the Creator himself remove!"Fasthoof had a few differences with his father, King Rockheart IV of Centauria, perhaps more than a few. Yet in spite of these disagreements, their love harbored deep respect for one other.

"This is Miagaff and Romessee," Finnegaff said. Starrelocke, for all her absent mindedness, was the first of the two to realize their mission.

"Thou wouldst be the Carrier of the Book of Life!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah. Uh, Yes, that's right. Great day, Mare Starrelocke! Pleased to meet you!" Mia extended a forearm for the Centaur to grasp. Starrelocke took the outstretched arm in a warm, soft, very firm grasp. Mia could feel an amazing strength through the gentleness of the mare Centaur's grip; Starrelocke could crush the bones in her arm with one abrupt squeeze had she so desired. Starrelocke got down on her knees, a practiced flowing motion of uncanny grace for a being so large. She bowed her head, still holding Mia's arm.

She looked up at Mia. "Me bow is at your service, honored one!"

"And mine be as well!" said Fasthoof, bowing gracefully.

"Uh, thanks!" Mia said.

It was a rare occasion indeed that Belemeriath was holding his tongue, yet he did, for he knew the importance, the honor, and the significance of this meeting.

Starrelocke cocked her head and cupped Mia's chin in her hand. "Miagaff! As pretty as a spring day! I would love to prim thine hair!"

Mia had noticed the intricately woven delicate white and lavender flowers gracing four thin braids, two on each side, of Starrelocke's blond hair. The soft curls accented the lines of her face. Complicated bows of light pink ribbon held it all together. It was, indeed, a work of fine art like none Mia had ever seen. "I would be honored, Mare Starrelocke!"

"Oh, call me Starre!" Starrelocke batted a hand at her. "What of thee, fair Romessee?" She looked at the Mumbwe. "Such beautiful hair have you been bestowed!"

"I'm down!" She replied.

"Oh, I do regret!" Starrelocke frowned.

"Oh, no!" Romessee said. "That means I'm down for it, like put me down on the list!"

Starrelocke thought about it for a second, then brightened. "I see this meaning! How clever!" She giggled. "Let this be a day to prim hair, me ladies!" Starrelocke spun on a dime and off they went, Starrelocke babbling without pause as she led Mia and Romessee and their horses noisily across the drawbridge.

"I'm coming too!" Belemeriath said. Unable to resist the company of ladies, off he went. He hovered before them, right where he was sure they would see him.

"Uh, wait a minute!" Finnegaff said with an extended arm. They didn't hear him. Or perhaps they ignored him completely.

Finnegaff, however, heard Starrelocke, who thought she was out of earshot. "I believe Finnegaff would never have taken clue to me wedding bracelet had I not shown it so forward! Me sometimes wonders how it is that he be head of the Wizard's Council!" She threw her arms into the air. Mia and Romessee looked at each other, then back at Finnegaff. He winked at them.

Fasthoof clapped a hand on Finnegaff's shoulder. The two watched the girls go their way. Fasthoof's look was one of pride for his beautiful bride, despite his shaking head. "There be nay stopping that mare when it comes to her vanity, friend Finnegaff! Believe me, for this I do know!"

Finnegaff laughed with the Centaur. "Yes, your majesty, I'm sure you do! I'm sure you do!"

Some time later, Finnegaff, Fasthoof and Carameth were having Mia's horse Rosielle fitted for a shoe that had been thrown during the chase. Mia and Romessee walked with Starrelocke, a very happy, hyper fairy zipping around them, to meet them at the livery. The two girls appeared entirely different from what they had several hours ago. Mia's hair, having grown to better than the middle of her back in the last two months, was braided in part, about a quarter of it, into half a dozen thin twists, the remainder loosely curled in tidy symmetry. The braids adorned dainty white flowers with light purple leaves. Her face had been washed as well, of which it was badly in need. Romessee's hair had but two braids along the back, each braid of five strands. Her braids were wrapped about her head, the ends neatly tucked. Light blue flowers were intertwined with a silver thread woven within the braids that lay in stunning contrast against her blue-black hair. Not a single hair was out of place on either of them. Light shades of blue accented their eyes, each having chosen the same color of eye shadow, a compliment to the color of their eyes, which was nearly identical. Starrelocke beamed with pride for the two beautiful young ladies, for they wore her craft with great appeal. Indeed, Starrelocke had managed to reveal features on the girls that would have otherwise gone unnoticed.

Finnegaff could not force his eyes from them. "Why, Mia! Romessee! You look..." he wanted to say 'too grown up'. After seeing the prideful look on Starrelocke's face, he decided the better of it. "You look absolutely stunning!" And that they did. A little too stunning for his fatherly spirit. He looked to Carameth, who stood holding Rosielle's reigns. His mouth hung open and he stared shamelessly at Mia. Finnegaff turned again to Mia. Her eyes were locked on the young Prince. Starrelocke stood, hands clasped before her, swiveling about her torso, smiling, indeed, glowing.

Finnegaff cleared his throat and looked at Carameth. "Ahem!" The elf did not so much as flinch. Finnegaff added a little body language to the interruption. "AHEM!" he cleared his throat again, much louder than before, and added an elbow to Carameth's shoulder.

Carameth blinked and shook his head. "Oh! Ah, Mia! Romessee! You look...uh...very nice!" Carameth tripped over his words, few though they were.

"They look stunning, cousin!" Belemeriath flew to the star struck elf. "Stunning! Just like Finnegaff said!" He began circling Carameth. "Guess who picked the flowers for them?" As if anyone there had any doubts. "I did! I did! They're beautiful, aren't they?"

"Yes, cousin Belemeriath," Carameth said. "They're the most beautiful flowers I've seen in some time!" He was staring again.

"No! No!" Belemeriath circled him with a speed that would make one nearly noxious if they tried to follow his path, then halted between the elf and Mia, blocking Carameth's line of vision, demanding attention. "The girls are beautiful, cousin!"

"Yes, that they are!" Carameth moved his head slightly to adjust his line of sight around the insistent fairy. Belemeriath moved to again hover in his line of sight. Carameth again leaned to see around him. His facial expression switched from charm to alarm in less than a heartbeat as Mia appeared to nearly faint. She would've fallen had Romessee not caught her. She had gone suddenly pale, right before his eyes, rocked a few times, then collapsed.

"MIAGAFF!" He dropped the horse's reigns and rushed to her side, then gallantly lifted her to a waist-high workbench.

A torrent of warmth flooded Mia's mind, in fact her entire soul, causing the collapse. Not that it was disliking or hurtful. It was the suddenness, the completeness, the strength of the voice of Saa that caught her off guard. She knew this phenomenon to be Saa; she knew to what Saa guided her.

"Strongwind!" she said, pointing at the blacksmith. The Centaur shoeing her horse ceased his task and placed aside his hammer and set. Almost as if guided by a will other than his own, he approached Mia. He dropped to his knees.

"I swear thee service of me hammer and arrow, chosen one!" He took her hand in his and gently kissed it.

Finnegaff had mentioned not a word to the blacksmith of their task, of Mia being the Carrier of the Book of Life. "Miagaff," he said. He had felt the unexpected, sudden and strong power of Saa when it hit her.

She confirmed his suspicion. "It was Saa. I had the feeling." Carameth still held her steady. Romessee was on her other side. "I'm fine," she told her friends. "It was just so sudden!" The rest awaited her. "I was told by Saa that Strongwind, that's you, right?" She pointed at the Centaur. He nodded once. "That you're to go with us. You get to join our Stand!"

"Yes. I felt Saa. Yet," Finnegaff pointed at Strongwind, "how did you know?"

Strongwind told his story. "'Twas nay fifty year ago that to I, Saa did speak. I were but a wee colt then. On a spring morn did Saa speak to me, after the fashion that Saa do speak, by a stream I were to pick motherberries. I were given that an outworlder lass, fair haired and human and young, should be come unto me, and I would know when it were by the eyes of Saa. It be with this lass, I were by the grace of Saa been told, that I should be of company, and that I should at the Reading of the Book of Life be present. Return did I to me mother, who asked for what reason do I come home empty handed, for I had forgotten me task and fetched not a single motherberry. Nay did I tell her of why, for Saa had forbid that I speak to another of the vision until now."

All eyes turned to Starrelocke, who was crying outwardly. She noticed the draw of attention to herself. "'Tis all so very beautiful," she squeaked as she wiped away tears with long, delicate fingers, "as be a babe in her mother's arms!"

Finnegaff rolled his eyes. Indeed, she was mare throughout. "Well, yes. I guess you're going with us." He smiled at Strongwind.

"There be more," Strongwind said. "The Carrier...what be you called, honored Carrier of the Book of Life?" He leaned his head to one side. Finnegaff laughed at this, prompting a gentle backhand on his arm and a look of reprimand from mare Starrelocke. He stifled his laugh.

"I be, I mean, I'm Mia. Miagaff!"

"Ah! Miagaff it be, then. I am to bear ye as need be!"

Until now, Prince Fasthoof had been silent. His eyebrows raised in surprise. "Surely you mean not!" Starrelocke broke into another joyous round of tears, savoring each moment of passion of this historic event.

At times, a man might ride a Centaur as one would a horse. But rare indeed were those times, for as it is well known (and accepted by all races), Centaurs are not beasts of burden. Not that they abhorred the idea, not at all; it simply was not their role. In situations demanding of them, Centaurs would take riders, perhaps when speedy travel was of the essence or when trouble might be afoot. Clearly they did not mind work or use of their great strength, nor would their strong sense of duty inhibit cause. But for a Centaur to commit to a rider was nearly unheard of! Certainly this would only have happened by the direction of Saa.

"What about Rosielle?" Mia was now standing, and had moved next to her horse. She pet the beast's jowl. "She's going too, isn't she?"

Strongwind placed a hand on Rosielle's head, the manner Centaurs employed when they "spoke" to horses. All awaited his response. "Our friend mare Rosielle would ask that she be permitted to stay here amongst the Centaurs," he said. "She said she do be getting old, and the trail now do be hard for her. And," he paused. They all looked to him. Strongwind was abruptly quiet. He looked away from them, particularly Mia. He acted as if he did not want to complete the translation.

"And what?" Finnegaff asked.

"And..." Strongwind hesitated.

"Silly manhorse!" Starrelocke gently pushed the big Centaur to the side. "Must we mares always be tasked such?" She sighed heavily as she placed a hand upon Rosielle's jowl.

"Oh!" Starrelocke gave a small giggle. "She do believe that Miagaff be in need of riding lessons!" The silence was broken by Finnegaff's laugh, followed by the rest of the attendants, except Carameth, who had a hand to his mouth as he turned away from Mia's line of sight. Mia glared at him as Rosielle whinnied. Carameth was laughing at her! Even her own horse was laughing at her! She crossed her arms with a huff.

Finnegaff set the butt of Lebethtro Larra firmly upon the ground. "We bear witness to a marked event in history!" He spoke in his most regal wizard's voice. "Let an historian pen this time as community among the Centaurs and Mankind, a moment of unity for cause and honor! A living testimony to tradition between the races!" He smiled. Mia knew what was coming. "Let us celebrate this addition to Mia's Stand by showing honor to tradition for the, uh, choosing of the Centaurian representative for the eighth Carrying of the Book of Life!" He looked all too serious for the motivation of his speech. He raised his arms, staff erect in his left hand, the grandeur of his mannerism only for show, being wholly unnecessary for the invocation of Saa. "Lorusa pon shomos..." His spell was interrupted when a nearby bell rang out a low, loud peal, followed by the answer of horns. Long, mid-range steady notes echoed from all corners of the fortress. Several Centaurs ran by the livery at full speed, some donning bows, others drawing swords as they hastened to their posts.

"Blackmane's Point be under attack!" exclaimed Strongwind as he took his bow, his quiver of arrows and his huge broadsword from where they were mounted on the wall. He strapped them securely about his shoulders with the ease of a finely trained soldier. Carameth, always with bow ready, followed Strongwind toward the ramps accessing the parapet of the fortress. Six Centaurs, well drilled for the moment, applied harnesses to themselves, three to a side and chained to the huge ropes that drew the drawbridge. With practiced cadence, the six powerful manhorses chanted aloud in time with their gait: "Up! Up! Up! Up!" Up came the forty-foot long bridge. From where Mia stood she could see darkhounds along the shore of the moat, only seconds too late to catch the rising bridge. Six other Centaurs readied a stout log that acted as a bar for the gate. Within moments the bridge became the stronghold door to the fortress. High on the parapet, archers were already loosing arrows over the wall.

"You two go to Starrelocke's stall and stay there!" Finnegaff took up his staff. Romessee raised a hand to protest. Too late. Finnegaff spun on his heel and walked briskly to join the forces on the parapet.

Romessee turned her protest to Mia. "I am a competent archer!" she proclaimed, "and I know honor and duty!"

"Rom, there's a war going on out there!" Mia said.

"Yes! I know!" she replied, then ran from the livery. She shot a beckoning glance at Mia. Certainly not wanting to be left alone and not knowing what else to do, (everything was happening so fast!), Mia followed Romessee toward a ramp in the other direction from the one Finnegaff was destined. They dodged alarmed Centaurs, soon to arrive at the base of the ramp before Mia thought to look up. More than an occasional arrow was coming over the wall. She actually saw a Centaur take an arrow in the shoulder. The Centaur glanced at the arrow protruding from his flesh. The manhorse ignored the wound and continued his assail of arrows.

Mia paused. "Crap!"

"C'mon!" Romessee yelled. "Keep down!"

"It's darkhounds! It's darkhounds!" Belemeriath had streaked from who knows where. He hovered excitedly three feet in front of the girls.

"Belemeriath! What are you doing here?" Mia didn't mean it the way it sounded.

With eyes closed, he plunged his little thumb into his puffed out chest. "I'm gonna protect you!"

By now the three had reached the parapet and crouched behind the wall. Mia had a burning desire to risk a peek despite the increasing rain of arrows.

"You're gonna protect me?" she asked the fairy.

"Yeah! Watch this!" he shouted as he twinkled into a point of light. Up he shot into the air above them, alive with rival arrows. In a second he had intercepted an arrow in mid flight. Belemeriath heaved to the left. The arrow answered to the change in forward motion by speeding off in another direction. Before the arrow could reach a mark, the little fairy brought it to a halt. He grasped the arrow in unseen hands, flew like a rocket to the nearest Centaurian bowman and held the arrow before him. The startled Centaur snatched the arrow from Belemeriath. With a slight, quick nod of gratitude to his little friend, he knocked the arrow and sent it back from whence it came. Belemeriath bee-lined to where Mia was still crouched behind the wall. In one motion, he skidded to a stop and twinkled back into fairy form.

"See? See?" Belemeriath hovered beside her, his arms extended outward.

Mia had an idea. "I wanna have a look at what's going on."

Belemeriath flew above the edge of the parapet. "Go ahead!" he shouted, and blinked into a pinpoint of light. Mia hesitated a moment, then sneaked a peek over the battlement.

The land for half of the distance between Blackmane's Point and the surrounding forest two hundred yards off was packed with mostly darkhounds and a few Slagg men. Fallen bodies were only occasionally visible through the mass of soldiers. Arrows were broken where the surviving soldiers trampled the corpses. Some of the enemy had managed to cross the moat by employing long ladders and now scaled the walls of the fortress, but were not getting far, for the Centaurs rained arrows on the assailants or cut the climbing ropes once the ropes were full. Many of the enemies held shields above their heads to deflect the Centaurian arrows. Out of the corner of her eye Mia saw Belemeriath dart from his waiting position. He snagged an arrow out of the air that was headed right for her. Belemeriath released the arrow. It planted with a solid thwack! into the wood a few feet from Mia's head. That was enough for her. She decided to reposition and sat with her back to the wall, knees up. Belemeriath changed form and flew to her.

"See?!" He landed on her knee, hands on hips, smiling. She looked across the compound just in time to see a Centaur fall off of the parapet and drop many feet to the ground. He was not the first. A dozen or more lie randomly about the fortress, arrows having found a fatal mark. She had the horrible feeling that she was somehow responsible for what had befallen them.

She sighted Finnegaff not more than a few yards away, who invoked Saa for a Centaur, the invocation averting oncoming arrows from the manhorse. Finnegaff could not, for reasons Saa only knew, shield more than one of them at a time.

He caught sight of Romessee, who paid him little heed other than a grim nod as she continued to fire on the adversary. Finnegaff threw both hands into the air. "Youth!" He laid his staff on Romessee's shoulder. "Meske! Eshemal nah eme!" (Arrow miss this one!). Mia could feel the power of Saa in the air.

"Thank you!" Romessee said. He turned to Mia and was about to say something. She never learned what it was. A loud distant crashing came from the other side of the wall. Finnegaff stared and slowly dropped his arms. Arrows mostly ceased their assault from both sides. Mia couldn't resist. She stood to see what demanded such attention. Whatever it is, she thought, it couldn't be good. She gaped at the gruesome black terror.

From the trees crept a black cloud, yet not a cloud. It had more depth, was more substantial. The fifty-foot diameter, ten-foot high angry black mass was amoeboid in shape and crawled quickly along the ground, changing the profile of its perimeter without gaining or losing mass. Dead or dying darkhounds that were in the path of the nightmare sizzled for a brief moment, then burst instantaneously into black flame as the monster consumed them. It rapidly approached the gate, incinerating even the unharmed soldiers that either were not fast enough to yield it a path or were caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Their brief, chilling screams were very audible, for the beast made no sound of its own.

"A shadowrought!" Finnegaff's arms shot into the air, Lebethtro Larra raised before him. "Kereele! Ansopiarn ah maasa llame!" (Shadowrought! Be gone to your home!). Mia felt Saa in strength. She had her eyes locked on the Shadowrought. She saw the creature recoil and begin to shrink away, but instead of disappearing, it grew back to its normal size and then some, then immediately continued the rampage from which it had been interrupted. It crossed the moat as if it were solid ground and in seconds was upon the gate. The thick wooden drawbridge caught fire, melting and burning wherever it came into contact with the black menace.

Finnegaff grabbed Mia by the shoulders. "Miagaff! Help me out with this! Use Saa! Tell it to go home!"

Mia drew on Saa. The magic boiled up inside her as it never had before. She held Dielielle outward and combined her invocation with Finnegaff. They shouted at the top of their lungs in unison. "Kereele! Piar llame!" (Shadowrought! Go home!)

The shadowrought buckled and shriveled at the edges, then drew inward from the top, appearing as a gigantic raisin. The center of it dimpled and began to rotate faster and faster in a whirlpool until it was rotating at impossible speeds. It spiraled inward as the last of the black mass was sucked into the vortex. Inside of five seconds, not a trace remained of the shadowrought except for the charred ground over which it had oozed.

Fires smoldered in small patches everywhere on the battlefield. The gate had been breached, yet the enemy made no attempt at further offense. Not a sound could be heard from either side, an eerie silence overcoming all. Seconds that seemed like hours passed when a single darkhound sounded a long, drawn howl. It finished only to be joined by a chorus of darkhounds howling and yelping as they fled into the woods in retreat. With a loud crash, the remains of the gate lowered, enough of it intact to allow passage of three Centaurs abreast. Many Centaurs left the fortress in pursuit of their aggressors, brandishing lances, swords and bows. Mia had a bird's eye view of the chase. She had a strange feeling that the scene was one she felt she needed to witness. She learned just how quickly a darkhound, a frightened and fleeing one, could run. She doubted that the Centaurs would catch many of them.

Mia looked up at Finnegaff with her chin tucked to her chest. "What," she pointed to the place where the Shadowrought had vanished, "in the name of Saa was that?" Her eyes were wide and her finger trembled. She was sweating from the exertion of having invoked such a large amount of Saa.

Finnegaff stood holding his staff, the other hand on his hip as he looked to the battlefield. He, too, was spent, his hair wet with perspiration. "That was a Shadowrought," he told her. "I'm glad you were here, even though," he turned to the girls, "I told you to, well..." he held a finger in the air. He looked to each of the girls in turn. "Uh..." They awaited his reprimand. His eyes met each of them several times in rapid, nervous succession. "I told you to...I...both of you..." he lowered his hand to his side as he shook his head. "I guess it couldn't be helped." The girls exchanged knowing glances. He redirected his gaze to the scene of the shadowrought, then redirected the conversation to a topic at which he was more graceful. "The shadowrought are not always so easily defeated."

Mia knew she had been crucial to the shadowrought's termination; she felt it, felt the huge rush of the power of Saa. It even exceeded the power of the Saa which had, through herself, healed the stable boy Theramon at Marigaff's Farm a week or so ago.

"Wow! Did you see what happened to that shadowrought?" Belemeriath said, hovering between the two girls. "You did that! You did that! Wow!"

Mia held a hand over her mouth. "Carameth!" She exclaimed. "Where's Carameth?"

"I assure you he is alive and well and somewhere nearby," Finnegaff said.

"How do you know?" Mia fired out.

"Nahaya," he said.

"Whatever." Mia knew the concept, that after the Reading of the Book of Life she, too, would know this sense. "Let's go look for him anyway!" She was anxious to see him safe for herself, personally assure that he was unharmed. Her eyes swept the interior grounds below for signs of the elf. As if drawn, and perhaps she was, she found him. He was with two Centaurs, who were standing over two Centaurs that lay on the ground, wounded or worse.

"There he is!" She pointed in the direction of Carameth.

Finnegaff took a hard look at what Carameth was doing. He said not a word as he spun around and strode down the ramp at a pace that made the girls have to hurry to follow. It was not long before they had covered the distance across the fortress to where Carameth stood. Mia froze in her tracks mere yards from Carameth and threw both hands to her face in alarm, for there lying on the ground were two Centaurs, one being Starrelocke. A spear was buried deep in her chest. Several arrows protruded from her back. The other Centaur was Fasthoof, but he was unharmed. He held Starrelocke in his arms. Starrelocke had sustained mortal wounds; she was dying.

Mia remembered Theramon. She raised Dielielle, tears streaming down her cheeks. With all her being, she called upon Saa. "Sheme na eme!" (Heal this one!) She spoke as clearly as she could. She felt Saa flow through her as she lowered the staff to touch Starrelocke's neck. Starrelocke looked to her. A tremor went through the wounded Centaur, then resided.

Chapter 21

A smile came over Starrelocke's face, a smile of peace and comfort; yet the invocation had failed to heal her wounds. "I do thank thee, dear Miagaff," she said, "that thou wouldst take me pain in me final hour." She choked on something. Slowly she turned to her husband. Starrelocke whispered something to him, Mia heard not what. Starrelocke smiled weakly as he said something to her in return. He then laid her head soft upon his shoulder. Nodding gravely, he held her close as she took her final breath.

"NO!!! NO!!! SAAAAAAAA!" Mia screamed. She shook Dielielle violently. Finnegaff took her by the shoulders. She dropped her staff and fell crying into the wizard's arms. The old wizard gently touched Mia on the forehead. "Fanas nah eme morotia." (Give this one acceptance.) The warm, now familiar wave of Saa swept within her, and with it came a vision. It was one of feelings, one of understandings. It was not a vision as she might have expected a vision to be. Not one of picture or voice: a comprehension of what must be, of destiny, of the sacrifice of the few for the many. Her crying ceased; peace overtook her emotions. Though her grief remained, the remorse, the self-liability that had earlier struck her heavy with guilt now left her with a sense of necessity. The vision had enlightened her that there are times when things must happen in order that bigger things might come to pass. "...Though passing of events even bear teeth, lest their ancestry be strong." She wasn't certain she had the proverb exactly right. She pulled from Finnegaff's hold, patted him on the arm with a look of thanks and wiped the tears from her cheeks with the sleeve of her tunic. She went to look at Starrelocke's body, yet she could not. Yet she felt she needed to. Still, she could not. Yet she knew, for some reason, that she should. She walked off in the direction of the livery without looking back, her inner battle ended, her head bowed, Finnegaff's arm about her shoulder. Romessee, Carameth and Belemeriath followed. Then they heard, as did all those gathered about the Prince, that about which for centuries to come minstrels would sing ballads; that which historians to this day mark as a major turning point in Centaurian histories; and that of what scholars would forever refer to as "The Avenge of Fasthoof."

Prince Fasthoof spoke in a clear, loud, deep voice. "This sacrifice shall not go unwant! I shall avenge thine death, Starrelocke! I SHALL AVENGE THEE!" And then, loud and unashamed, he wept. Mia felt like covering her ears. She did not, for in the stead of her anguish came a bitterness, a despise for the dark sorceress, who she knew to be the orchestrate of these events. She stopped in her tracks, stared straight ahead and soaked in the bitterness, the anger, the repulsion. The others waited patiently for her.

Prince Fasthoof wept.

Mia allowed the hatred to penetrate to the depths of her emotion, for know she did that this terrible hate would someday aid her in a time of need. And at that moment she became a different person.

Torches lit the compound as the rapid Morran dusk turned to black. The sheet-covered corpses of fallen Centaurs were placed in a row near the gate, which was now being repaired by a host of Centaurian carpenters. The building directly across from the gate had a log in front of it, two feet in diameter, perhaps forty feet long, with ten foot chains tied to the log to which four darkhounds were collared. Several Centaurian officers were questioning them. The darkhounds were terrified. One of them yelped as does a scared dog, then frantically attempted to scale the building behind the log. He would have succeeded had the chain around his neck not jerked him to a halt, sending him falling onto his back onto the log. He did this several times that Mia saw.

They went into the livery where they found Strongwind cleaning his sword in grim silence. Finnegaff insisted they take a bit of food. They did eat, but very little. In a stall in the back of the livery, Mia, Romessee and Carameth fashioned beds of straw under their bedrolls. They knew they must depart at first light and thus made attempts at sleep, but the attempts were futile.

The bitterness in Mia held fast.

Dawn came crawling over the sorrowing fortress of Blackmane's Point, shedding light on the horrifying scenes of battle. The Centaurs bade bleak good-byes to Mia's Stand. They crossed the bridge over a moat dotted with floating bodies onto the cadaver-strewn outer reaches of the fortress, all on horseback with the exception of Mia, who rode upon Strongwind. They skirted the fifty-foot wide scorched, blackened straight path that led from the gate to the forest, the witness mark left by the Shadowrought. Dead darkhounds were everywhere. The stench was nearly unbearable. The Centaurs had built huge litters, two manhorses towing each one as others piled the skids high with darkhound bodies. They dragged the litters a mile down wind, where the burning of a growing pile of corpses had begun. The small party was silent as they passed through the battlefield, unable to avert their eyes from the gruesome spectacle of the war-ravaged area. With the warming sun to their left, they departed southward from the somber fortress, and it was not until some time after that any of them spoke.

Mia rode beside Finnegaff. "What was that thing?" she asked.

"That was a shadowrought. It's from another world, like are you."

"It wasn't from my world," she said.

"No, no," Finnegaff verified. "Not a world any of us know. The dark sorceress trans located it."

"Is it a demon or something?" Mia guessed.

"Demon?" Finnegaff looked to the sky. "Demon. No, I don't think so, since I'm unfamiliar with the word. It's an animal that lives in another world. Only three have ever been trans located. I've seen two. None were rid of so quickly. Had we not combined our Saa, the results would have been much, much worse."

Mia wanted to ask about Saa, about what happened when Starrelocke had been mortally wounded, but decided she did not want to approach the subject of the dear fallen Centaur just yet. "Why did it kill the darkhounds, too?" she inquired. "Aren't they on the same side?"

"Well, yes and no," he stroked his beard. "The shadowrought have little in the way of a brain. They do little more than eat."

"I've not seen such in all me day, honored Carrier," Strongwind joined the conversation. "This black cloud of death that do set all afire with black flame."

"It's been nearly a thousand years since one was last seen," Finnegaff qualified.

"That were before I be known," Strongwind said.

"Yes. Well, during the reign of the dark sorceress, and prior to the Centaurian/ Mantid war, one Shadowrought wreaked havoc for nearly a week. It was the Wizard's Council that ultimately got rid of it. Before that, it was during the second Carrying of the Book of Life, when Karengaff was Carrier. The first known summons was during the reign of Gaff, during the Old Elven War. Gaff had failed with the Shadowrought, being unable to control the indiscriminate monster, and it's said that he himself invoked its leave. But that's not for certain, because few who kept company with him lived. And before that, nobody knows.

"The age of Morrah remains unknown. I, being on the order of 3,235 years of age am not the oldest alive today; I know Sylphs exceeding twelve millenniums in years. They recall the old Elven magic, the creation of the Book of Life, times of harvest and times of famine. They've come to understand one consistency: disasters are gonna happen."

"So you are to say," paraphrased the Centaur, "disaster always has been, and always will be."

Finnegaff nodded. "Hmmm. Yes. Well. Even then, during the age of the old elves, havoc did occur. There were differences of opinion. That leads to war. At least on one level or another. Saa and Essaa agree on that philosophy, yet one encounters obstacle while the other looks for benefit. The dark sorceress will see the battle of Blackmane's Point as a victory, even though she was defeated. She didn't get what she was after. We also look at this battle as a victory. That is her nature, and this is ours, and it's been that way for a long, long time."

"What's she like?" Mia inquired.

"That," Finnegaff remarked, "is not a good question."

"Okay," Mia sighed. "I mean, what kind of things does she do that are so evil?"

Finnegaff gave her a sideway glance. "Now that," he smiled and bobbed his head, "is a good question! She is, my dear, a persecutor of persecutors. She demands utter slavery from all she can, and all under her power do her bidding. If they don't, she'll destroy first their families and then them. She despises all things living that don't benefit her. She's known to kill with Essaa unprovoked, even her most faithful followers." He paused and shook his head. "Even total subservience is no escape from her wrath."

"If she's that way," Mia responded, "what's stopping her from taking over all of Morrah?"

When Finnegaff halted his horse, Strongwind stopped with him. Mia looked into the unspeakable depths of the wise old wizard's deep blue eyes. "That," he said in a low tone, "was not a good question!" He smiled at her.

Mia's eyes went wide as reality found its mark. "WE are!"

"Yes!" Finnegaff spurred his horse to a walk. "As for your first question, which was not a good one: She's tall, about as tall as Aaramerielle and structured similarly. She has long black hair and considers the black and purple robe she wears her signature to office, and will in fact wear nothing else. Maraska pon Durk is her hideous black staff. Gaff gave it to her. It's made from the undying wood from Korr, the Land where Time Stops. And that," he removed his hat and wiped sweat from his brow with his left sleeve, "is where Gaff resides."

"Why is it called the Land where Time Stops?" Mia asked.

"It's more of a place," Carameth joined in. He reigned his horse abreast Strongwind. "Than a land. It's where many evil souls are trapped. Very few can enter or leave it."

"Yes," Finnegaff agreed. "And Gaff is one of them. Should he or the dark sorceress gain control of the Book of Life, the balance of the magic between Saa and Essaa would shift and tilt, much like an overloaded barrow. The result would enable Gaff's escape." This much Mia knew.

Strongwind shook a fist in the air. "And this we want not!"

"No. We don't." Finnegaff continued. "Yes, well. Her home is Rock Island. That'd be across the upper end of the Straits of Many Dreams. Her castle's cut right in to the cliffs of the northernmost mountain. She's clouded the place from horizon to horizon because the sight of the sun repulses her. Or so she says."

"How well do you know her?" Mia asked.

"I've been off and on with her for many, many years," he sighed and turned his eyes to the sky and said not another word.

Mia looked up as well, but for different reasons than those of her mentor. Again, as she frequently did, Mia felt that feeling, a pulling feeling, kind of, as if someone or something was watching over Mia and her stand from the very heaven above. But a good feeling it was, secure, maybe even spiritual. She could even tell from what direction it came, and looked in that direction, but saw nothing. She thought about Finnegaff's answer to her question about the dark sorceress, about how vague it was, how incomplete and disappointing. How wizard-ish.

For three days they rode. Mia came along well with Strongwind, who proved kind and proper and exceedingly generous with the knowledge of his country, of which he was just as exceedingly proud. Finnegaff took the opportunity to recount histories with the Centaur, and sometimes asked questions concerning subjects which Mia knew nothing about. The four-day journey to the capital City of Centauria, Grand Centauria, was enlightening to Mia's Stand. Finnegaff's accounts of histories were, as said many times by himself, "factual, true and right" accounts, that many books had been written, and that said accounts within said books often contained conflicting facts, depending on who the author allied with at the time of the writing. But he does attest to this day that his historical accounts are the "factual, true and right" ones. And to this very day, Mia agrees.

It was nearly midday when Belemeriath reported the upcoming city. He spoke in his best little fairy announcer voice. "Grand Centauria, the grand capitol of Centauria! Home of the grand King Rockheart the fourth!"

And grand indeed was Grand Centauria! Spread over a mile along the shore of a lake so big that one could not see the far bank, Grand Centauria was an empire in itself. Few buildings were multilevel, a design not well suited for Centaurs, yet despite this, the stone and log structures were beautiful in a rustic way, built by generations of master craftsmen. The straight, broad, packed dirt streets added to this rustic atmosphere, and Mia thought it the kind of place where Davy Crockett or Daniel Boone just might come riding in from around the next corner.

The Grand Centaurians would glance in surprise at the sight of Mia riding Strongwind, so Mia soon opted to walk, nothing personal, she told the Centaur. Finnegaff agreed, in that it would be in their best interest to not draw too much attention to themselves. Soon they came upon the castle of the king, Strongheart IV, and his fair queen, Mare Motherlove VIII. The centrally located castle was huge, built with a red stone base and log cabin style walls of immense logs three feet of more in diameter and hundreds of feet long. The south wall, covered with pale green ivy, reached heights of more than forty-five feet in some places. The big, round spires reached even higher. Windows were plentiful, as were the flags that flew at the top of nearly every part of the castle, forming a colorful border against the clear blue sky beyond. The grounds were equally as immense, hedged and adorned with marble statues of Centaur, man, and beast. A carpet of fine-bladed, well-kept grass formed a soft, deep green background to the whole theme, which gave Mia a feeling of serenity and welcome. Centaurs were about, some pruning here, another hauling a barrow there, performing those tasks required to maintain such an elite courtyard. Mia thought it the most majestic real estate she'd ever seen. She then looked at Carameth. He smiled at her. He did that a lot, and it often had extraordinary effects on Mia. This time she changed her mind: Abaradell, the capitol city of Elfwood and home to Carameth, was much cooler than Grand Centauria could ever hope to be.

From the opened double doors of the palace came four Centaurians. The lances and swords they carried and the fine plumed helmets they wore left little doubt as to exactly who they were. Indeed it was the king's own guard, the best of the best. They approached the group of travelers and halted when they met up with them.

"Greetings to Mia's Stand! Be welcome to the kingdom of good King Rockheart the fourth and Queen Motherlove the eighth!" It was the foremost Centaur who did formal announcement. "Great Day, Lord Finnegaff!" Mia noted that the name Mia's Stand had preceded them.

"Great day, good manhorse Horseracer! You look fit, as usual!" Finnegaff bowed in his saddle.

"And you be as youthful as ever, my Lord Finnegaff. Which be the honored Carrier of the Book of Life?"

Finnegaff extended his arm in Mia's direction. "This be Miagaff, Carrier of the Book of Life and friend to the Centaur!"

The four Centaurs drew their swords in Centaur fashion and held them before themselves at chest level. "My sword be thine, honored Carrier!" Horseracer said.

"And be mine!" chided the second Centaurian Guard.

"And mine as well!" The third.

"As me sword be thine!" The fourth.

"The good king be requesting audience with all of thine Stand, honored Miagaff." She wondered why he was asking her instead of Finnegaff, particularly since everyone was being so rigidly ceremonial about this greeting. "He awaits news that be from the battle of Blackmane's Point."

"Yes," she replied. "We were there."

"'Tis ill fate that I be not there!" snapped the second guard. He slammed his sword into the scabbard strapped to his side. The steel made a sound that gave Mia goose bumps, kind of like dragging fingernails across a chalkboard.

"Nor I!" said the first. He, too, drove his sword to its sheath.

"Curse the dark sorceress, I shall have my opportune!" growled the fourth Centaur. They began to murmur among themselves, bitterness abounding.

"Attention!" ordered Horseracer with his authoritative, militaristic voice. Immediately the three guards snapped to attention. Horseracer gave them a stern reprimand. "We be of assign to his Majesty. Our duty be here! Stray thine honor not, countrymen!" The three guards saluted in unison, hand to chest. Not another word was said, at least not in the company of Mia's Stand.

"Might we care for your weary companions?" the second soldier asked as he stroked the jowl of Romessee's horse, Sheelee.

"Thanks, Horseracer," Finnegaff said as he dismounted and handed the reins to the manhorse, who lay the reins on the horses neck. Romessee and Carameth also dismounted and lay the reigns about their horse's necks as did the Centaurs. Centaurs had no need to lead horses. They applied their hands but for a moment to the foreheads of the animal, one Centaur on each, to communicate to the animals in the manner of their race, for, as everyone knows, Centaurs know how to talk to horses. The horses then walked off in the direction of the stables under no escort from even a single manhorse. Mia assumed that was where they were destined, since the Centaurians behaved as if the reaction from the horses was the correct one.

"Let's get on with it, shall we?" Finnegaff urged. "I'm a little anxious to visit with King Rockheart."

"Aye, he be anxious as well, as are we all!" Horseracer turned militarily as only Centaurs can, crossing his feet, pivoting about the centerline of his body, and led them to the palace doors. Into the grand entryway they went, with its pale brown sandstone floor, into the fine, extravagant architecture of the Centaurian race. Some six spans immediately across from the door was an elegant staircase that fanned out thirty feet wide with twenty steps a foot high, each step three feet deep. It led to a glorious balcony that overlooked the huge entryway. As the Royal Guard led them into an adjoining room, Mia realized a new point of view on just what great and grand could mean to some Centaurs. They were, after all, much larger than a man. They therefore required more maneuvering room, so naturally, their architecture would demand larger spaces. But this room was huge! Skylights were even built into the ceiling over forty feet from the ground and were plenty. Trees, some bearing fruit of various sorts, grew in places where the floor was left to bare dirt and were surrounded by broad paths of cobblestone. Mia recognized one hedgerow to be motherberry, strong in fruit, the branches artfully trimmed. In this lower altitude and equatorial climate, it never snowed or for that matter frosted; thus the open skylights did grace the courtyard with sun and life giving rain to create an ideal indoor garden. Statues similar to those outside were scattered about the grounds; tables for gatherings were located next to kitchens, Centaurian kitchens. This grand room was centrally located in the palace, and many doors along every wall led to other rooms and corridors within.

The gathering at a near table hosted a rather conspicuous selection of occupants. Four Centaurs stood at the five-foot high table (as Centaurs rarely sat). One was poised over a huge book laid open upon the table before him, pen in hand with inkwell beside. The second stood slightly behind to the side of the third, who was clothed in a light blue silken shirt, finely tailored to compliment his features, which were more pronounced than any Centaur Mia had met so far. This, Mia thought, must be King Strongheart. The fourth, a mare, stood to the King's left. She played with a large parrot-like bird perched on a crossbar that had been built into the table. Mia regarded her as beautiful; the mare's laughter at her feathered pet was almost music. She gamed with her bird, treats of nuts and large seed being the instrument of entertainment. This, Mia guessed, must be Motherlove.

Strongwind dropped to his knees before his King. "Your majesty, my sword be thine!" His upper man portion bowed, his right fist to his heart.

The king spoke in a casual tone. "Arise, loyal Centaur! What be ye called, manhorse?"

"I be Strongwind of Blackmane's Point, blacksmith and loyal soldier to the crown!" He stood as he dropped his salute.

Motherlove lost her smile. She pulled a lock of her long, auburn hair from the playful parrot's nibbling beak. She faced Strongwind and spoke in a clear whisper. "Blackmane's Point!"

King Strongheart laid a hand gently on his wife's. She squeezed . The King's voice was quiet, solemn. "Finnegaff! It is a delight, as usual, to thine company, yea I wish it be by other circumstance!"

"Your Majesties, good King Rockheart! Fair Queen Motherlove! I, too, would want for better tiding such that I bear!" Mia noted a continuing formality.

"Yes," began King Rockheart. He released Motherlove's hand with a pat and introduced his court. "This be me scribe and good friend Streamrunner, and this be Thundermane, me first in command." He motioned to two Centaurs, the first one smaller than most, with a studious appearance. The other rivaled even Strongwind in size, who was himself big for a Centaur. He appeared as one would expect a general to appear: hard faced, muscular, disciplined in stance, and even a scar across his chest from a battle of many days past.

"This is Miagaff, Carrier of the Book of Life; Romessee of the Mumbwe; Carameth the elf and Belemeriath the lesser fairy...."

"Oh, yes, we do know Belemeriath!" the queen interjected. "Great day, dear friend fairy!"

Belemeriath hovered in front of her and swept his hat grandly with a flourishing bow. "Great day, fair Queen Motherlove! Good King Strongheart!" He did, in fact, bow twice.

"And Carameth! How be your mother and father, good Prince?"

"Great day, your majesties. They fare well. I have some messages from them we might discuss later."

Motherlove's deep green eyes showed concern, perhaps even a great deal of stress. "Is all well in Elfwood? I do fear yet more ill tidings!"

"Yes, queen. All is well. Their messages are casual."

The queen sighed in relief.

King Rockheart extended an arm to Mia. "Ah! The Carrier! Honored Miagaff, my sword be thine!" Mia grasped his massive forearm. Her grip circled it less than a third of the way.

"As is mine!" echoed each and every one of the remaining Centaurs, including the four of the king's guard.

"No doubt you wanna hear about the battle of Blackmane's Point," Finnegaff stated, dropping the formal talk. The scribe began to write.

"Please, Lord Finnegaff!" The King looked stern and set both hands on the table, palms down. "Tell all!"

Finnegaff recounted the battle: the losses of both sides, the shadowrought, the fall of the king and queen's daughter-in-law. Upon the mention of Starrelocke's name there flowed the tears of Motherlove, for the two had been very close. So close were they that Motherlove had felt her fall through Saa, through Nahaya, yet at the time, was unable to distinguish the Nahaya of Starrelocke from that of the Nahaya of Fasthoof. So strong was it that for two days she in fact believed it to be Fasthoof that had fallen, which was the time that it took for the fastest of Centaurs to carry the truth of what had transpired to the throne. When she received the word that Starrelocke, not Fasthoof, had fallen, her grief only greatened. She had, indeed, grieved twofold.

Mia noted that Finnegaff's account of the battle was very accurate, that he neither exaggerated nor omitted any facts. At that moment, questionable accounts of incidents that he had given her in the past now became solid. She hoped that she recounted happenings with such accuracy.

"This is an act of war," the Centaurian king said.

"Yes, your Majesty. We thought so, too," Finnegaff said. "I gotta ask, though: do you really think that's wise? I understand your grief. You know that. But a lot of lives on both sides are lost in wars."

"I do hear your word, friend Finnegaff, and do take your council to heart, as it be proven by the ages to be sound council." The king spoke calmly. "It be not solely the fall of our beloved Starrelocke that enacts this conflict." He peered at the scribe's writing, though too far away to actually read what he'd written. "The dark sorceress' evils raid Centaurian village and farm, for they do make food of our very flesh."

"They make food of any flesh, even each other's," Carameth said.

"Aye, fair elf, that they do. That they do. The havoc they wreak be terror to those along our border to the north. It be worse these last months."

"Starrelocke was the last straw," Finnegaff concluded.

"Aye. It were to happen no matter, be it nay 'till midsummer." King Strongheart yelled in a deep, strong voice and slammed his fist onto the stone table so hard that he nearly capsized a wine decanter. "BUT IT SHALL HAPPEN NOW!" Mia caught the decanter before it spilled. All were silent for a few moments as the king regrouped his thoughts.

"Honored Carrier," the king said. "Do the Book of Life be safe and secure?"

Mia reached for the rope around her neck, pulled the Book of Life from its place of concealment and held it up for all to see. "Right here!" She spoke confidently, though she knew not from where the confidence came. This regal air, the power of this great king, did have a way of making one nervous. She smiled and tried to intermix casual with authoritative at the same time, though she felt neither.

A gasp came over the assembled. "Behold, the Book of Life!" the queen whispered. "Might it be touched?"

Mia turned to Finnegaff, who smiled and extended an arm toward the queen, palm up. Mia removed the Book of Life from around her neck. She handed it to Motherlove, a tear yet glistening on the mare's cheek. The Centaur took the book from her.

Motherlove held the book with both hands. She stroked the soft leather of the front cover and opened it. Wide-eyed and stricken with awe, she fanned through the blank pages, then handed it to Strongheart. Each Centaur took their turn holding the Book of Life. All observed with great intensity. Upon making a round, they returned the Book of Life to Mia, who placed it in the satchel, then around her neck. She felt strangely relieved once the Book was returned to her.

"I do now prepare me troops for battle," proclaimed the king. "Do tell of me allies," he spoke to Finnegaff, "for of this I must know."

Finnegaff discussed the state of affairs of other countries, the results of issues set forth to the Wizard's Council, the enemy and resources available to both sides. The meeting took some time. Upon the conclusion, all were shown to suitable quarters. Finnegaff stayed with some of the king's own guard; he claimed requirement to show honor to tradition for "the meeting of Centaur and Man". King Rockheart took private audience with Strongwind, and to this day it remains unknown what was discussed between the two in the wee hours following the eve Centauria declared war on the dark, poisoned country of Slagg.

They were off before sunrise. Finnegaff took a breakfast of motherberry while the others ate fruits and vegetables prepared for them by the all-vegetarian Centaurian royal cooks. Soon after sunrise, not three leagues from Grand Centauria did they encounter a Centaurian war camp. Thousands upon thousands of centaurs, manhorse along side mare, many dressed in chain mail or at least leather armor, trained for the battles that lay before them. Many conducted drills with shield and spear, shot arrows at targets, or jousted with dummies. Others performed what Mia later called horse karate, properly termed 'hoof dancing', an art of fighting with a staff while delivering kicks with any of their four feet.

The party would have passed the camp in less than an hour, but Finnegaff stopped to speak with an officer, one who Mia recognized as General Thundermane. By midday they were beyond sight or sound of the Centaurian war camp.

Mid morning of the second day brought a scouting report from the ever-faithful Belemeriath. "We're being followed!" He smiled at his wizard friend.

"And that's funny?" Finnegaff shook his head, something he did frequently when dealing with Belemeriath. "So?" He leaned forward on his horse. "Who's following us? Darkhounds?"

Belemeriath slowly shook his head, eyes wide. "Oh, no! Not darkhounds! Centaurian soldiers! Lots of them!"

"That must be the escort General Thundermane sent for us." Finnegaff said. "Belemeriath, go to the leader of this group and let them know that I told Thundermane that we can't be escorted." In a twinkle, the pinpoint of light that was Belemeriath sped back across the plain.

He returned in less than five minutes. "The Captain, back there," he pointed with his tiny finger, "the ones who are following us."

"Yes, I know the ones you mean," verified the wizard.

"Those ones! The Captain sent a message. But he wasn't too happy." Belemeriath shook his head. "But it's kinda hard to tell with Centaurian soldiers. They're always so serious! I had a Centaurian soldier tell me once that...."

"Belemeriath!" Finnegaff interrupted him. "Just tell us what the Captain said!"

"Oh! The Captain! He said," Belemeriath landed atop Grinnolle, Finnegaff's horse, right between his ears. He sat, tucked his legs in kneeling position, puffed out his chest and lowered his eyebrows. He mocked the deep voice of the Centaurian Captain. "'You tell Finnegaff that we have direct orders from General Thundermane to ignore anything he says!'"

Finnegaff was noticeably startled by that response. His eyebrows raised as he set his chin on his chest. Mia started to laugh, partly for Belemeriath's little performance, partly for Finnegaff's response to hearing the rejection from the captain.

"That do sound like Thundermane!" Strongwind said, who had known Thundermane all of his life. "He be that way even as he were a wee colt!"

"Go tell this Captain to follow in some fashion of stealth." Finnegaff sat up in his saddle. "We still don't need attention drawn to us, and a detachment like that would certainly do so."

"Yes, oooooh great and mighty wizard!" Belemeriath, still on his knees, was bowing, arms stretched out in front of him, bowing until his palms met horse. He stayed bowed, hiding his face. His little body shook. Finnegaff could hear him laughing. Belemeriath would not look up.

"Great and mighty wizard?!" Finnegaff pursed his eyebrows. "Where did you get that?"

Belemeriath popped into flight, hovering amongst the laughing group. "Mia taught me that!"

"Mia taught you that?" He turned to the red-faced Mia, who laughed so hard she was having trouble breathing. "Must you encourage him?" He sneered. Mia nodded her head, unable to respond otherwise. He looked back in Belemeriath's direction, but the little imp had already flown off.

For the next five days the company of Centaurian soldiers kept their distance. They followed through trees whenever possible, at the very least honoring that part of Finnegaff's request. The Plains of Rhammahadra had flattened to a landscape of hardly any hills. They would pass Centaurian farms, acre upon acre of wheat and barley and corn growing close to farmhouses. A few times they had to swim rivers or circumvent a swamp teeming with insects.

The destination of Mia's Stand was Rass, the capitol city of North Mantadia, home to the Mantids, intelligent insects the size of a human. Therein ruled an infamous, pompous, and racist dictator: the great Queen Xyledes.

Chapter 22

"She has her own beliefs about particular courses of events," Finnegaff told them of the Great Queen Xyledes. "She's arrogant and pompous; she believes that the world should focus its efforts on her needs, and in her part of Morrah it usually does."

"She is that, for sure," Carameth commented. "I know her well. Sometimes she acts as the dark sorceress herself."

"And that she might as well be, as for me own concern!" Strongwind was not pleased with having to visit Mantadia.

Finnegaff accounted for the Centaur. "The war between Centauria and Mantadia ended in 2323 and was long, bloody and cost each side dearly. Though there was no true victor, treaties were formed between the two and...."

"There be a victor, I may correct!" Strongwind interrupted, erecting his torso proudly.

Finnegaff looked at him sideways. Strongwind kept his patriotic expression, yet he remained quiet. The Centaur held Finnegaff's world-renowned reputation for accurate recounts of histories in high regard. It is to say he knew better than to argue the point.

"Yes." The wizard continued. "Well, both still hold deep prejudices to one another, despite agreements and pacts."

"Wasn't the war over land?" Mia asked, recalling a history class she had taken at Marigaff's Farm.

"Nay!" Strongwind declared in a powerful bass voice as he held a fist into the air. "It be freedom for which me forefathers toiled!"

Finnegaff gave him the same look.

"It be so!" Strongwind tried to sound convincing. He slowly lowered his raised arm.

"Yes. Well, they were fighting for territory," Finnegaff continued.

Mia's heart went out to her new friend. Strongwind had deep convictions about his homeland and now faced a situation that might prove difficult. She wanted to know more, needed to know more. She felt that gratifying, rewarding inner pride one gets in acquiring knowledge, and for the first time in her life had the realization that learning about any subject can, and will, have a direct, positive effect on one's life. The moment changed her views on education for the rest of her days.

"What I'm trying to say here," Finnegaff remarked, "is that we'll encounter a number of prejudices, and we gotta be prepared to deal with them."

Strongwind spoke without malice. "It may be that I remain in Centauria and await your return. I would care not to be in the company of the wretched bulbeyes as it were!"

"It'd be a good idea, for instance, to not use that term for Mantids. No, remaining here would be a likable solution, but we need to all go. The Carrying of the Book of Life requires it."

"Do you think they might attack us?" Romessee said.

"No, I doubt it. But it's just the kind of thing that could escalate into a war, an unjust one. So it goes that a Centaur has not stepped foot, I beg pardon!, hoof in the capitol city of Rass in four hundred years, not since the last Carrying."

"And you believe me to go there?" Strongwind asked. He knew the answer, for he, as most Morrans, knew what Saa required for the Carrying of the Book of Life. His expression was one of entrapment, reflecting the nauseating feeling one gets when they find they must perform a repulsive task, like it or not.

"Yes!" Finnegaff wagged a finger at him as if warning a child. "And I believe you will behave yourself."

Strongwind reacted accordingly. His voice was low. "Aye, that I shall." His head shot up, his black beard nearly horizontal. Again he displayed the infamous Centaurian pride. "But it be in duty for the Carrying, and none other!"

"Yes, well..."

It was Strongwind's turn to wave a finger in the air at Finnegaff. "And make you certain the scribes do enter it into the history writings as such!"

"Yes, of course. That much I can do," Finnegaff assured the manhorse. "But keep in mind that a representative of Mantadia's gonna join our company and stay with us until the Reading has taken place."

"Of this I have thought for many ages," Strongwind told the wizard, "and choose to regard of me Mantid companion as ally, nay foe; to do otherwise would be folly."

"Very good, friend Centaur!" Finnegaff complimented him. Strongwind was proud of the compliment for, as everyone knows, compliments from any wizard, particularly this wizard, were rare yet eminently true. "But that will not stop Mantids from showing their hatreds toward you. That's what I'm worried about, particularly when dealing with Xyledes. She may even jail you," he addressed Strongwind, "or any of us, if things don't go her way. She won't instigate bloodshed; she's too intelligent and civil for that. However, should anything go wrong, we don't start anything." He looked at them all individually. "The sting of the Mantadian hornet is always fatal, and it is they that guard the palace."

"What's a Mantadian hornet?" Mia asked.

Carameth volunteered. "Mantadian hornets are hornets about this big," he held his hands about a foot apart, "and are intelligent beings. They're not intelligent like us. More like some dogs. Sometimes smarter. They're fiercely loyal to Xyledes. Their sting is said to be intensely painful and quick to kill. It's less than twenty breaths once stung before you die. But," he shook his head, "no one's ever survived to tell about it. And they fly, and are very, very fast."

"Not as fast as I am!" Belemeriath claimed.

"There's nothing is as fast as you, beautiful fairy!" Romessee smiled sweetly at him.

"Oh, yes there is!" He flew to her and hovered. "My cousin Steremiamar. He's lots faster than me! Boy! I can hardly keep up with him!"

"Are there many fairies that are faster than you?" Mia couldn't visualize anything outside of a rocket that would exceed the blinding speeds that Belemeriath attained.

Belemeriath thought, freezing in flight, head cocked as he looked to the air through one squinted eye, a tiny finger on his chin. He sprang to life. "Nope!" he squealed. He buzzed around the party at high speed, at least high speed for being still in fairy form. He was much faster when in 'light form', as Mia called it.

"How did you get to know this Queen Xylenes...Xylees..." Mia asked Carameth. She leaned to the side atop Strongwind to speak to the more than handsome elf. Her eyes shone.

"Xyledes. Mother and Queen Xyledes are good friends, and often share the troubles that being of royalty brings between themselves." Carameth smiled that killer smile Mia almost feared, that smile that made her say or do or feel things she ordinarily wouldn't say or do or feel. It was as if there were something magic about it, some magic that was directed at her. Here, on Morrah, Mia thought, it wouldn't surprise her. Nothing here surprised her any more. "Leadership at the top gets lonely, and few are those who can understand. So, over the years, the two have gotten very close, and I've spent much of my childhood in her majesty's company. Mostly playing with her daughter, Princess Riccid."

"Riccid?" Mia repeated.

Carameth let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. "Yes." He paused. "Riccid."

Finnegaff laughed at the elf's reaction. "What's so funny?" Mia said.

He chuckled. "I know Princess Riccid." He exchanged glances with Carameth. Carameth wasn't smiling.

"So what's so wrong with this princess?" Mia demanded.

"She's, well," Carameth stammered, searching for tactful words.

"She's like her mother," Finnegaff volunteered.

"Yes," Carameth agreed, "but more spoiled."

"Oh!" Mia nodded. "I can handle people like that." Carameth was shaking his head. He wouldn't look at Mia. She found this mannerism unnerving. Finnegaff continued laughing. "What?" Mia held her hands out, palms up. "I know how to deal with people like that. Even if they're not people."

Finnegaff looked her in the eye. "Just be careful what you say, child. The queen has a lot of power and she offends easily."

Mia's Stand reviewed strategies to deal with taunting Mantids. It was evident that Carameth knew a great deal about Queen Xyledes. He knew what they might expect, so did he become their advisor. Mia felt a strange sense of pride for him, as if he were hers. She at first dismissed the feeling, knowing it was unrealistic, then decided that she did in fact enjoy it, unrealistic or not. She held on to the fantasy for a while.

Upon reaching the boundary of the Land of Lost Memories, the group camped for the night. The next day they would traverse the strip of land here where it was at its thinnest, as Finnegaff wanted to avoid being caught within its bounds after nightfall.

Mia's Stand camped a few hundred yards from the gloomy edges of the foreboding land. Sleep came hard for all. Romessee took the first of the set of two-hour watches, Strongwind the second, Carameth the last.

That evening Mia fell into a deep sleep. She then dreamed that she was younger, perhaps nine or ten. In this dream, she lived a different life than she actually had. She was in a yard with a picket fence, which surrounded a cute little cottage, painted in reds and yellows and whites, with flowers growing in the windowsill. The warm air carried a sweet cacophony of fragrance. She was playing with three or four bunny rabbits, nestling her face in their fur. She felt content, secure, more than she could ever remember. She was playing with the bunnies when a lady called to her from the door of the cottage, which she identified as her mother. In her dream, it was so; yet it wasn't Lori Murphy, her natural mother. The lady had long black hair, pretty gray eyes, was of a tall, slender build. She wore a beautiful purple dress that Mia thought she recognized. She felt deep love, a long-set bond to this lady.

"Mia!" the lady called in a sweet, melodious voice. "Come, please!" Mia promptly obeyed, happily surrendering the company of the bunnies to be with this wonderful woman.

She walked into a cottage that had the enchantment of a fairy tale. She didn't really see the charming layout of the interior, for she focused her attention on the lady.

"Mia, child. I would like to read a story to you!" Mia knew not why she relished story time, yet she did. The lady had seated herself in a rocking chair. She climbed onto the lady's lap as if she had done it a thousand times and cuddled with the lady as the book opened.

The lady read to her. "This is a story about a little girl who lived in a big town by a river. The little girl had lots of friends, for she was a very good little girl." She hugged Mia tightly. She looked at Mia with a warm love, giving her a feeling of happiness and contentedness.

"One day the little girl was playing with some friends when she saw that one of her friends had no shoes. The little girl gave her own shoes to her friend, for she had another pair, and her mommy had taught her to share.

"When she got home her mommy was so happy with her that she..." Mia fell asleep in the lady's arms. She awoke to the soft light of the fire of their encampment feeling mysteriously gratified. Carameth sat on a large stone across the fire. Something didn't feel right. She sat up in alarm. Something was wrong! Unable to place just what was amiss, she looked about the dark plain for clues. She saw nothing.

"Who goes there?" Carameth's sharp elf ears had heard her movement. He whispered the words without turning around. It was good practice for him to not face the fire, hence destroying his night vision.

"It's me. Mia," she whispered. She stood up with the thin blanket that acted as a bedroll wrapped around her. She walked to Carameth and took a seat next to him on the stone. "Is everything alright?" she asked him.

"All is well. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "I had this dream and I woke up, and it felt like something was wrong. You sure things are okay?" She looked around for herself, unable to see clearly, her eyes not yet adjusted to the Morran night.

"Yes. Belemeriath is scouting nearby, too." There was a pause in the conversation.

"So this dream," Mia began. She told Carameth about her dream. Then she began to cry, yet she knew not why. She only knew that tears were there and needed to come out. Carameth put an arm about her shoulder. She sunk into his arm. Both arms. The feeling was exciting on one hand, but not on the hand she needed at the moment. Right now she really just wanted to cry. A little.

On the other side of the fire, Finnegaff lay watching the two. He nearly rose. He hesitated, electing to observe. He was all too aware of the attraction between Mia and the Prince of Elves. It was not that he disapproved, not at all! It was simply that they had a task at hand, a quest of great importance. He needed no such distraction! Dealing with this sort of issue was not his strong point, his awkwardness being most prevalent when it involved the youth. In fact, it was probably his weakest area, despite urgings spanning centuries from his beloved Marigaff, who ultimately maintained that Finnegaff would 'never get on' with any sort of insight for managing youthful conduct. He supposed that he would intervene if necessary. He knew, at least he hoped, he would not have to. It was for some time that Mia stayed with Carameth, perhaps a half an hour, when dawn began to shed the first deep blues of the coming day's light. Carameth excused himself. He hailed the others at the appointed time. They gathered their supplies together and took breakfast of commodities brought from Grand Centauria.

"We'll secure ourselves to each other with rope tied around the waist. Allow only a span between each of us." It was just before dawn. Finnegaff tied the end of a thin silvery rope about his mid-section as he briefed the party for the ten-mile journey through the Land of Lost Memories. Where they entered was known to be the shortest path. The forests of the Land were moderately dense with what indeed were very peculiar spindly trees. There was little ground cover, at least that Mia could see, as the entirety of the Land of Lost Memories was shrouded in a still, gray fog. Nothing could be seen moving within the Land for fifty feet or so, all the distance that their sight could penetrate the intimidating gloom. An eerie, demanding silence shrouded the Land of Lost Memories. Sound fell immediately dead, since the bizarre woods had the acoustics of a library. Mosses hung from branches everywhere, tattered sheets of the plants hanging as rotting cloths long forgotten. Many of the trees were ages dead, their twiggy branches cold, skeletal fingers that reached into the gloom.

"The inhabitants of the Land of Lost Memories are limited to small, shy animals and fogs." Finnegaff continued the briefing. "Fogs are thought to be the living memories of those lost in the Land, blown off course by the twisted magic here. Some think the fogs are ghosts. I believe the living memories theory. Yes. Well." Finnegaff paused to light his pipe. "Fogs," he continued, "seem to have the belief that if they could steal an outsider's memories, they themselves would be released from their eternal prison, when in fact the victim they prey upon would become one of them: not dead, not alive, wandering forever lost."

"What of the horses?" Strongwind asked.

"Horses don't see or feel the effects of fogs." Finnegaff answered. "We'll have the horses carry all of our belongings to free us of distractions."

"How do they steal your memories?" Mia, eying the impending gloom, had a slight sick feeling in her stomach.

"Nobody knows. What is known is that they enter one's mind through one's eyes when eye contact is made. Do not, no matter the urge, look at them. Close your eyes if need be and allow the rope to guide you. They can't touch you, but they can cause your will to stray. I'll lead, and Miagaff, Romessee, Carameth and Strongwind shall take the rear. Belemeriath can fly over the land and meet us on the other side. Do not step from the path; if you should wander too far, you will not be able to defeat the wills of the fogs. Have any of you made this journey?" he asked them all.

"I have," Carameth replied as he secured the rope about his waist. The rest shook their heads. "I've found that to watch the ground in front of me is best."

"Good advice," confirmed Finnegaff. He looked to Mia. "Saa doesn't work all that well in the Land of Lost Memories. Saa will, however, perform unexpectedly and unpredictably. Control your thoughts, Miagaff. You could accidentally invoke Saa and have no idea what you did."

Mia's eyebrows knitted. "How weird," she said.

Romessee spoke up. "Let's just walk straight through looking to the ground as Carameth suggested."

Finnegaff nodded, eyebrows raised.

"It really is that simple," Carameth said. "It's just that fogs are, well," Carameth searched for a softer word than frightening.

Romessee, using her gift, 'felt' what Carameth was struggling to say and helped. "Scary," she smiled.

Carameth nodded and looked at Mia out of the corner of his eye. "Yes. Scary."

"It really is that simple." Finnegaff eyed each of the company. "Remember: fight the urge by thinking of other things, because they will tempt you to look. Don't do it, not even for a second. That's all it takes for them to take you." He locked his eyes on their path ahead for a moment. His voice was deep and quiet when he did speak. "Let's go!" The party then took to the dismal gloom of the Land of Lost Memories.

Strongwind, after the manner of Centaurs, asked the horses one by one to follow and that they did. Mia had butterflies in her stomach as she stepped into the hot, damp mist. The sun disappeared almost immediately, yet not wholly, and the diffusion of the gray, non-directional light made it impossible for Mia to tell where the sun was. The path was of packed dirt, more like damp, mossy soil. Greenish-gray ferns grew to the sides of the path. Occasions there were to duck to avoid hanging mosses or to step over small fallen logs. The heat was nearly unbearable. All of them sweat profusely in the high humidity.

They traveled in this fashion for a mile or so, and Mia was beginning to believe that nothing was going to happen. She had just relaxed a little when she was swept with a slight uncomfortable nausea. A low, distant, drawn-out mournful voice sounded. Despite the heat, every goose bump Mia had available to her, and perhaps a few that weren't, raised. The direction of the droning voice was indeterminable. Mia's eyes swept the area.

"Don't look!" Finnegaff called. "They've found us! All eyes to the ground. Let's slow down a little."

That they should slow down was something Mia didn't care to hear, but she really had little choice. She looked at the ground, eyes wide, when she caught a glimpse of a white apparition, a moving mass of fog about the size of a horse. The hollow voice was loud now, much louder. Mia could tell that the fogs were saying something in another language, the words slurred with heavy vowels. Nausea swept her as her eyes met the fog. She reeled. Her mind was fuzzy, somewhat like being intoxicated yet not. Her heart raced and her body trembled almost uncontrollably. Mia clamped her eyes closed. She tucked her head to her chin and grasped the rope in front of her with both hands. The section of rope connecting her to Romessee tightened. She was scared, mortified at having made the error of sighting the fog. What it had done to her petrified her. Fear swept her, near panic. She couldn't run from the fog, and was unable to hide from them. She was trapped! Mia felt like crying, but then the nausea left, as did the fuzziness, curbing the urge to cry into submission. The fogs had attempted to invade her mind! Going on with her eyes closed thus was not an option. She had to try something! She cupped her hands to the sides of her eyes and kept them focused on the ground. The rope tightened. Finnegaff guided her along the path by the waist. She opened her eyes, still viewing not much more area than where her feet shuffled. As she slowly broadened her field of view, the hem of Finnegaff's robe could be seen well enough to follow. The eerie voices were everywhere now, to her left, to her right, even from above.

The apparitions, the fogs, circled the group from all directions. When they would collide, no notice on their part was apparent, for they would pass through one another as if the other had not been there at all. They never ventured closer than two spans from the party at any time, and were often farther away. The forest was alive with them, alive but in a manner of speaking, of course, for they were not truly alive. They crowded in all directions for a hundred feet or more, including up. The mournful voices were now plentiful and dominated all sound. Though not loud as one might believe, they were intermixed, and so jumbled were the voices that it sounded like a low buzz. Mia was still shaking in fear.

On and on they trudged for hours after this fashion when the buzzing, the chatter of the fogs, suddenly ceased. She thought that perhaps they had passed through to the Mantadian side, but the gray, dim random directional sunlight had remained the same. She was afraid to look up and nearly bumped into Finnegaff, having not noticed that he had come to an abrupt halt. Romessee, who had also not noticed the halt, bumped her from behind. She was pushed forward into Finnegaff's back, who was forced to take another step to keep his balance. They gathered themselves.

"They're gone!" Finnegaff said in amazement.

"Can I look now?" Romessee beat Mia to the question.

"Yes. Yes," Finnegaff answered. "This is weird," he said as he surveyed the landscape.

"What be peculiar, wizard friend?" Strongwind looked as if he had not slept in some time.

"That the fogs have left us. Ordinarily they'd follow us to the border." His eyes continued to scan the forest.

Mia raised her head and reluctantly lowered her hands. The wood appeared the same; it all looked alike anyway. But there were no fogs within sight or sound.

"Something isn't right," Finnegaff said. He continued to peer through the woods. "Let's go!" They hadn't taken but a score of steps when a crackling sound came from above, as if hundreds of men were walking through a leafy autumn forest floor. They all looked upward to witness a black cloud. Black, yet unlike the gray fog, this was clear, as is a glass that might contain a dark tint. It was like a giant black blanket lowering from the heights for as far as one could see, yet affected neither branch nor moss as it engulfed all in its path. In seconds it was upon them. The crackling stopped when the blanket met ground.

They looked about in amazement at each other, then to their surroundings. Mia had the sensation of being under water. The air thickened and quickly became stifling. Breathing became hard, very hard. Finnegaff urged the group onward. The clear, dark blanket instilled a deafening silence. Even Finnegaff's words were muffled. Breathing became even more difficult. In moments, the party had been forced to halt, unable to breathe. Carameth was on one knee. Finnegaff tried to say something but was unable to. Romessee was on all fours, head down, gasping in vain for a breath. All three horses were lying down.

Mia's head became light. Her legs felt like lead; they would no longer support her. She fell to her knees and tried with all her might to draw air into her lungs from the soup-thick black nightmare. Breathing was impossible. Panic set in.

Chapter 23

The Dark Sorceress Eringaff stood before the shallow wooden bowl, the Stracombe of Seers, and peered into the magic of its design, watching the Carrier of the Book of Life make her way with her companions to the southernmost edge of Centauria. She allowed her hatred to grow to its fullest potential. She savored the evil of her very being. The attack on Blackmane's Point had benefited her only in the death of Starrelocke, no more, she thought. Then there was the elimination of the weak from part of her army. There was that, yes, of course; had they not been weak they would have survived to fight another day. The Shadowrought had been summoned with the aid of Gaff, that vomitous swine!, as she would not have been able to invoke such a spell without the help of a very powerful wizard. That Finnegaff and Miagaff had been able to trans locate the shadowrought back to its home planet did indeed impress her, yet did not concern her, her arrogance too deeply rooted to yield to good common sense. For Finnegaff, she knew, was more powerful than she, if not by little. Yet she had not the power displayed by the Carrier. The new wizard's Saa was perhaps a power so great that it would even rival the near infinite abilities of Gaff himself. Staring into the Stracombe, she had a fleeting thought that she now beheld one of the most powerful wizards in the history of all of Morrah. Though fleeting, she knew it to be so. Still her ego permitted no fear, nor did it allow for belief of possible defeat. It did, however, precipitate precaution.

She could not send her armies into Mantadia. If they survived the Land of Lost Memories, which the imbeciles would not, they wouldn't make it far in Mantadia. The wild male Mantids would make short order of her darkhounds. Yet she, with Essaa, could enter Mantadia, at least in spirit. She planned to break Mia. Tear her down. Crumble her emotion. Cripple her will. One way or another, she would have the Book of Life. She left the high tower where she housed the coveted Stracombe, strolled down the dusty stone stairs to her quarters, hands behind her back, head held high. She was thinking of what she would record in the histories. This, she thought, must be done, as all must know the truth.

"Servant!" She demanded of the tattered human girl that swept her floor. The youth's head was bowed, perhaps from respect, perhaps from fear. Fear, Eringaff thought, if she knew what was good for her. "I want Mobbliss here. He will bring the archives. Go!" The servant girl immediately set aside the broom. She ran from the room to fetch the scribe. In moments he was at her door.

"Yes, great queen!" He bowed deeply.

"Write!" She pointed to the table. The scribe laid open a huge, black, leather-bound book, set down the inkwell and took quill in hand. "The true and accurate account of the eighth Carrying of the Book of Life. It fails. Already the Carrier Miagaff has exposed her weaknesses. The battle of Blackmane's Point with the appearance of the shadowrought broke the spirit of the enemy and sent them fleeing, even if the division I sent did not get the Book of Life. They will pay for this, each of them! Even now the Carrier is lost on the Plains of Rhammahadra, being under the poor leadership of Finnegaff the Liar. They are going to cross the Land of Lost Memories, another mistake by the incompetent Finnegaff the Liar." She liked the sound of that. "Let Finnegaff be henceforth known to all as Finnegaff the Liar!" The dark sorceress smirked. "That's what he is." She smiled wickedly in self-pride for her creativity as she talked herself into rage. "A LIAR!!" She gripped Maraska pon Durk with white knuckles. Her breath hissed through her teeth as she immersed herself in the concept. Several moments passed while she calmed herself down.

"The Centaurian King Rockheart means to wage war with me; so be it. Soon the Book will be mine and in time, Centauria will be mine, too. Then Rockheart the Coward will pay, but first with his family! I have already given him warning in the slaying of Starrelocke, his prince's bride. That was the whole purpose of the attack on Blackmane's Point. Not to get the Book of Life, as many may think. They think wrong. It was no mistake! Blackmane's Point. I killed Starrelocke on purpose; now let's see what good King Rockheart's plan is!" She sneered the king's name as she paused to laugh. It grew. She laughed long. Her deep, wicked laughter echoed in the black, stony chamber. She looked at the many stone gargoyles that were perched about the upper reaches of the room, her maddened eyes darting rapidly from one to another. Inside herself, she felt as if they were her allies, her friends. They did indeed, in her own poisoned mind, laugh with her, fueling her mood. She saw them come to life in agreement. She heard them roar in deep, inhuman laughter. She saw them throw back their heads and wildly flap their great wings. She saw their powerful talons grip crumbling stone to avoid falling from their perches from their fits. Yet in reality, they moved not at all, they made no sound, for they were in fact but stone. Even the dark magic of Essaa couldn't give the cold stony statues life, for as everyone knows, the magic does not work in that manner. She laughed as she held on to the back of the chair she stood beside to keep from falling. Mobbliss the scribe moved not at all, nor did he do anything except to continue transcription of what his ruler was saying, and when there was nothing to write, he pretended to do so. She laughed, bent over. She wiped tears from her eyes as she caught her breath. Suddenly her laughter ceased. She shot to an erect stance.

"ENOUGH!" She held her staff aloft and yelled at the scribe. He took up the massive book and carried it opened so to not blotch the still wet ink. He scurried to the door. "Rigt!" (Trip!) She tapped Maraska pon Durk once on the ground. Immediately the scribe fell on his face on the book, striking his elbows hard upon the cold, black floor. He hastily gathered his book and exited the room to the roaring laughter of his evil mistress.

Chapter 24

Mia, for reasons she later learned to be Saa directed, remembered the Stracombe, the Stracombe of air, the air coin Marigaff had given her. Mia felt like she was about to pass out. She reached for the Stracombe in the pocket on the inside of her tunic. Shaking, concentrating, gasping, she took up the coin. She had picked the Stracombe for air from their lot. Breaths came in ragged gasps. Finnegaff leaned on Lebethtro Larra. Strongwind was on his knees, his torso bent forward to Carameth, who was now face down on the ground, as was Romessee.

"Fanas duo tura!" (Give us air!). She could barely utter the words. With every bit of strength left her, she leaned back. She tossed the coin upward and fell backward onto the soft ground. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. She lay upon the ground barely able to breathe. She watched the coin flip through the air, up into the trees. There was a brilliant flash of light and a great crackling that got louder and louder, then ended with what might have been the mightiest thunderclap any of them had ever heard. The deafening thunder shook the very ground on which they stood, felling a heavy rain of gray-green leaves from the trees.

Distant leagues from the Land of Lost Memories, Marigaff halted the meeting she was having with a small group of her students. The Saa within her trembled violently, like an earthquake of great magnitude.

"What was that?!" One of her students asked, holding his head with both hands. The entire class was on their feet.

"That," Marigaff calmly announced, but despite her calm voice, gave away her anxiety with the wringing of her hands, "was our Miagaff. She has used a Stracombe of the Elements."

In Elfwood, Ameretegaff, the mumbwe lady of peace, nearly fell from her horse when the wave of Saa from the use of the Stracombe of the elements hit. Her father caught her before she slipped from the saddle.

On the other side of the continent, the dirty-clothed Slagg human servant girl, not more than thirteen years of age, was pinned to the wall of Eringaff's library. The dark sorceress held Maraska pon Durk in her right hand horizontal to the cold marble floor. She pointed it directly at the unfortunate girl, who was unlucky enough to be in the same place as her queen during one of her majesty's many rages. She held the terrified youth with the evil power of Essaa. "SHE HAS A STRACOMBE!" she screamed at the child. "WHERE DID SHE GET IT?!" The girl trembled violently. She was crying and shaking her head. "BERIT!" (OUT!) Eringaff screamed at the girl. With a wave of Maraska pon Durk, the dark sorceress sent the little girl flying across the length of the room, out the doorway and into the hall. The child slid across the polished marble floor at a high speed, spinning out of control. She slammed into the wall at the end of the corridor, the wind taken from her. She rose and clutched her side and tried to get her wind back. She forced herself to hobble around the corner, intent on distancing herself as much as possible from the dark sorceress before things got worse.

A roaring wind came from above Mia's Stand in the Land of Lost Memories. So powerful was the wind that moss blew all around them, not in whirlwinds, but quite parallel to the ground. Sticks and twigs and dirt stung as they struck the party. With the wind came air, lots of air, more than Mia had anticipated. In a few seconds they had all regained themselves enough to make a dash for it.

The roaring wind came from behind. It was in their favor. Though debris was airborne everywhere, at least they could breath. "Run!" Finnegaff shouted.

Being roped in tandem made running difficult at best. Though it was but a short distance, it felt like hours to Mia when they emerged into Mantadia, leaving the Land of Lost Memories behind. They halted as soon as they were clear.

The wind had been a stream only a hundred feet wide. It had torn a hole in the fabric of the gray, clouded mysterious land, which was flowing back to its original shape. The suffocating black blanket had been vanquished by the gale. It had been completely absorbed. The torrent of windswept it away. Upward at a sharp angle veered the snaking wind immediately at its point of exit from the very border of the Land of Lost Memories, carrying with it a witness of debris as it soared high into the sky. As quickly as it had come it had stopped. All watched as the tail of the wind, like the tail of a great serpent, sped away into the heavens. The gaping hole in the Land of Lost Memories closed. With the exception of bent, leafless trees that lay in the path of the mighty wind, all had returned to normal. If one could apply a term such as normal to the haunting land.

Finnegaff surveyed the party. When satisfied that all were present, he turned to Mia. "Where," he said calmly if a little shaky, "did you get a Stracombe?"

"Could we do this later?!" she demanded. "What in the name of Saa was THAT?!" She was breathing hard. Her finger shook as she pointed to the disappearing wind. Romessee hugged her, if not as much for herself. She was in about the same shape as Mia. Mia hugged back as they slumped to the ground into a sitting position. They released one another.

"It was a wind you created with a Stracombe that you just happened have," Finnegaff answered. He casually untied the rope from his waist.

She yelled at the wizard as she sprang to her feet. "Finnegaff, I'm NOT IN THE MOOD FOR THIS!" Mia dragged Romessee a foot or so along the ground when she reached for her staff, which was secured to her horse's saddlebag. The Mumbwe quickly finished untying the rope connecting them. Mia planted one fist at her side. Her trembling arm threateningly extended Dielielle at the old wizard. She sighted down its length. "I said, what was that?!" She realized how she must have appeared at that moment, like she was about to blast Finnegaff. It wasn't precisely what she had intended. She decided to feel remorse later. Right now she was mad.

Finnegaff knew better than to toy with a woman who was in a mood that, as best as he could recall, was practiced only by large, wounded carnivores. He stood silent for a long moment. Mia lowered Dielielle. "I have no idea," he said. "I've never seen anything like that!" he said. "I'm sure that it's not of Saa or Essaa. It's probably some kind of natural thing, but I've never even heard of anything like this!" Through the discussion, the others in Mia's Stand couldn't help but notice the authoritative manner in which Mia had presented herself, though Mia herself did not. They were getting a glimpse of the wizardly authority that someday would emerge from their petite friend.

They stood in a small clearing in the tropical rain forest, trying to gather their wits, and untied themselves. The sun was bright, the air hot, humid. Birds called here and there. The party was silent for at least a minute when that silence was broken by a Mantid hanging upside down from a nearby branch.

"What was that?" the Mantid spoke in the rasping, grating voice typical of Mantids.

"Yeah! What was that?" another Mantid to their left said. The double claws of his back four of six feet held on to the trunk of a tree. His praying hands gestured rapidly.

"What was that?" echoed another of the three-foot long male Mantids, of which Mia had spotted not a one until they spoke. "What was that?" said another. It was her first encounter with Mantids. Though she had read and heard about the sentient insects, she was still amazed. "What was that?" copied a fifth Mantid. Pictures she had seen did no justice to bearing witness to the mannerisms of the fast, big talking Orthopterans. "What was that?"

"What is that?" Mia pointed to the Mantid on the tree trunk.

"That, my dear, is a male Mantid." Finnegaff looked at the Mantid. "Wild, untamed, and unbelievably stupid."

"Hey! We're not stupid!" The Mantid sounded angry and aggressive. He appeared as if he might attack them. Mia hoped that Finnegaff had not provoked the three-foot long insects as he had the halftrees.

"We don't know what the black thing was!" Finnegaff changed the subject on the tiny-brained creature.

"It was a black clear thing!" one of the Mantids shouted.

"It was a cloud!" another corrected.

"Not a cloud!" shouted the first Mantid. "Black!"

"Black! Black!" The one on the tree trunk waved his arms. "Not so good!"

"No! Bad!" yet another added. "And black!"

"Bad! Bad!" repeated the pack of Mantids. "And black! And black!"

The familiar sound of Belemeriath's wing beat interrupted them. One of the Mantids let out a high pitched shriek, which caused an echoing response from the rest of the Mantids. All of them fell to immediate silence upon first sight of the little fairy. They took an alert stance and locked their bulbous eyes on him, moving only to turn their heads, not losing sight of him for even a moment.

"Hey!" Belemeriath yelled, screeching to a stop in front of Finnegaff. "Did you see that thing?!" He pointed toward the Land of Lost Memories.

"We were in it!" Romessee told him.

He went to fly to her, but was distracted part of the way there. "Mantids!" he gleamed. "Wild boy Mantids!" He flew to the one that was perched on the tree trunk, who batted frantically at the little fairy. The Mantid was very fast, but Belemeriath was much faster. He dodged the strikes as easily as any of the slower human attempts Mia had seen him evade.

"Get it away! Get it away!" the Mantid yelled. He leaped from the perch and landed some fifteen feet back into the forest. As soon as his six feet met ground he ran another twenty feet or so. He turned and froze and stared at the fairy.

"Great Day, friend Mantid!" Belemeriath laughed as he went to the next insect, then from Mantid to Mantid, each having similar reactions to him. The Mantids would retreat some distance, then turn to stare, appearing frightened, obviously ready for flight at any time. One in fact did fly into a tree, startling Mia. The Mantid hopped into the air. In a single bound, upon reaching the height of the hop, he spread his four-foot wings. In a second he was hanging on to a branch nearly at the top of a tree over ten spans in height. They flew very well in spite of their size. Belemeriath followed him. The big insect wildly batted at the feared fairy and snapped at him with his small, stout mandibles. The Mantid again flew in retreat, this time high over the treetops, until he was out of sight. Belemeriath returned to his friends, laughing. The Mantids on the ground did not leave. Instead they retreated yards into the forest, maintaining a lengthy distance between the irritating little fairy and themselves.

"Mantids are fun to play with!" Belemeriath hovered amongst the group. He flew to Mia. "Except you know what I noticed?" He looked around as if he were going to divulge a well-kept secret. He cupped a tiny hand to the side of his mouth. Mia leaned toward her little friend, smiling at his amusing behavior. He whispered loud enough for all to hear. "I don't think they're very smart!" He nodded his head once, slowly, slow for Belemeriath, a serious veil about his face.

"No, they are not. Well," Finnegaff had not lost focus. He addressed Mia "Where did it come from?" he was firm this time.

"Where did what come from?" She was sincere.

Finnegaff said not a word. He looked at Mia with implication.

Mia thought a moment, her chin rested in the palm of her hand. She looked skyward. "The wind? From up in the air, I suppose." She pointed upward.

"Miagaff!" Finnegaff scowled. "You know what I 'm talking about!"

Mia smiled at him. "Don't like it either, do ya?"

Finnegaff's scowl turned to a sly smile. "That was very good!" He pointed a finger at her.

Mia laughed low, though she didn't feel like laughing, but she had seized an opportunity that she had been waiting for.

Her fun was over, victory hers. "I got them from," she stopped, wanting to avoid the grandfatherly wizard's eyes. She recalled Marigaff told her to not let Finnegaff know that she had them.

"Them?" Finnegaff raised a single eyebrow.

"I don't know if I can tell you!" she said. "I was told not to."

"How many did Marigaff give you?" Finnegaff smiled.

"How did you know?!"

"Who else would tell you not to tell me?" Finnegaff wasn't smiling any more, but for the top to remind a subordinate of the unspoken chain of command of Morran wizards, it was soft. And with exception to warranted circumstance, always was the kind and empathetic Finnegaff thus.

Mia knew Finnegaff's order overrode any other wizard in all of Morrah. This fact was important enough that it had been included in a textbook she had studied at Marigaff's Farm. Finnegaff was ultimately to be neither questioned nor withheld information. "I have three more. Fire, land and water." She looked at the ground feeling shame. "I suppose you want them." She took them from her pocket. There were four. Upon closer inspection, she noted that one of them was the Stracombe of air. Somehow it had found its way back to her pocket. She almost said something, but decided against it.

"No, no. You be their keeper." He held a hand up, palm out. "If Marigaff charged you with them, I'm certain it was by the direction of Saa. I wonder why she didn't tell me about them."

"Its because she said..." Mia trailed off. "Are you gonna make me tell you what she said, too?"

Finnegaff shook his head. He laughed through his words. "No, no. I don't think I wanna to know."

Mia's Stand made camp for the night despite the early hour. After the harrowing experience in the Land of Lost Memories, Finnegaff proclaimed need for a break. They set their tent. Strongwind erected a canopy for himself. They built a fire over which Romessee cooked venison provided them by Carameth. He had gone for a short hunt the evening before they entered the Land of Lost Memories. A short hunt it was indeed, for as it is well known, the plentiful game of Centauria was easy, hunting being rarely practiced in a country populated by vegetarians. She prepared vegetables with what she had for Strongwind, although the Centaur was content on dining on local finds, his diet variety wide yet very different from that of the rest of the party. Some things he had managed to find in the rain forest were Centaurian delicacies. The acquiring of said delicacies, which grew but in Mantadia, and there in abundance, was difficult, for to do so would mean having to go through the foreboding natural boundary that separated Mantadia and Centauria, the Land of Lost Memories. And that was a trip one made only out of necessity. Mia tried one of the small green plentiful fruits that Strongwind raved. With a sour, shocked expression on her face, she spit out the green, tart fruit, deciding then that Centaurs differed from humans in many ways other than anatomy and speech.

They lounged about for the afternoon. They told stories, and Romessee sang songs with Strongwind. The wild Mantids stayed their distance with Belemeriath present, but they didn't leave. Occasionally Belemeriath would chase a Mantid or two. He was, after all, Belemeriath. He had a reputation to uphold! All took the opportunity to relax. They turned in for the night as soon as the short twilight of the equatorial part of the globe overtook them with sudden darkness. Strongwind took the first duty of a four-watchman night.

Mia's sleep did not go well, not as well as she would have liked. The strange hidden noises of the nocturnal creatures that were certainly abundant in Mantadia's rain forest often caused her to start awake. Even with Carameth's assurance that the presence of the curious wild Mantids would keep any potentially dangerous creatures at bay, she still had trouble falling asleep once awakened.

The half-light of dawn held on to the warm, soft rain that had begun to fall a few hours before. Huge, wet droplets of water dripped through the forest canopy and soaked the undergrowth to complete saturation. Belemeriath, who had long since appointed himself as the stand's alarm clock, awakened the party. They secured their bedding first such that it might be kept dry, or at the very least only damp. As they packed the horses, they noticed the wild Mantids were still there, as predicted by the Prince of Elves, watching with untiring curiosity. Mia tried an experiment. She stood unmoving and stared back at one of them for a minute or so, trying to get a reaction of some kind. The Mantid showed no sign of noticing that she was staring at him. Mia recalled Finnegaff's remark about the wild male Mantids being very stupid. She had to agree.

Breakfast was short, the food wet. At least it was food that was supposed to be wet. They discussed the next leg of their journey over a meal of various fruits, including motherberry, Mia's favorite. "We're only a few days from Rass, the capitol of North Mantadia," Finnegaff pointed out. "Jungle travel is not all that pleasant. We gotta fill our water skins whenever we find water. Just because it rains a lot doesn't mean there's lots of water available. The floor of the forest soaks up every last drop. I hate rain forest quests. At least it's not the wet season."

Mia could not imagine more wet. If this were the dry season, she thought, how miserable would the wet season be? "Which way is it to Rass?" she asked.

Finnegaff pointed to the east. "That way. Kind of."

"What means you," Strongwind said, "by 'kind of'?"

"Well, I mean it's east, but I am not exactly sure of our route."

"That means we could get lost." Mia cleared. "Again."

"Oh, no!" Finnegaff smiled. "We're gonna get a guide!"

"Where are we gonna get a guide?" Mia held her arms out, hands up. "I mean, we're way out here in the middle of nowhere!"

Finnegaff looked to the jungle and pointed at one of the wild Mantids. "He'll guide us." The Mantid he indicated could surely hear them, yet showed no sign of recognition.

"Finnegaff, your Mantid be timid to our presence, mostly of our little scout!" Strongwind reminded him.

"No! No!" Belemeriath flew to the Centaur. "I've seen this before!" He hovered in the center of the circle the group formed, puffed out his chest and placed his hands proudly on his hips. "Finnegaff knows how to do this! He'll use Saa, and the wild boy Mantid will do whatever he asks!"

"But won't she hear you?" Mia asked. "The dark sorceress, I mean."

"I believe, my dear, the Stracombe took care of that," Finnegaff said.

"Oh, yeah," Mia rested her chin on her palm. "I guess she would have heard that."

"No invocation of Saa is louder," he added.

Mia had a sickened look. "Ooh."

Finnegaff aimed Lebethtro Larra at the Mantid. "Nah eme jalan duo koss, anso pon arstalla!" (This one fear us not, be of service!) With the last word of the invocation, the Mantid sprung to life. He came scampering into their campsite.

"Great day! Great day!" he buzzed. He ran right to Finnegaff and looked up at him. "It rained last night!"

"Great day, friend Mantid. It rains every night!" Finnegaff told him.

"But it rained last night!"

"Yes, it did."

"Do you have beetles?" he asked excitedly.

"No, no beetles. Ah! Wait! Here's one!" Finnegaff reached to the ground. He picked up a small beetle about a half an inch long, handed it to the Mantid, who shoved it in his mouth. A loud crunch and it was gone in three chews. Mia winced at the spectacle, unprepared to bear witness to the small creature's dietary habits. She had to look the other way.

The Mantid caught Mia's movement with his three hundred forty-degree peripheral vision. He ran to her. "Do you have beetles?" He was bouncing on his back four legs like a child anticipating a treat, undulating in three-inch strokes up and down, about two per second.

"No, but I wish I had a can of raid!" she smirked.

"Can you eat it?"

"Friend Mantid, what are you called?" Finnegaff asked the hyper creature.

"Maggad! Maggad! That's me!" He was still bouncing.

"Maggad, we need to find our way to Rass. Do you know the way to Rass?" Finnegaff spoke slowly.

"Rass! Rass! Yes!" he was excited. Still. Or maybe, Mia thought, this is how he always is. "Rass bad! Not go Rass!" he shrunk back. "Lady Mantids eat us. They eeeeat us!" Mia had learned that female Mantids usually ate the male during mating, starting at the head, which stimulated copulation. It was for this reason that the male Mantids had evolved to being relatively unintelligent, lest the Mantids as a sentient race fail. And also for this reason were there no Mantid kings, at least not any living ones. No males lived in any Mantadian cities or towns.

"Could you make him stop that stupid bouncing?" Mia snapped.

"We need you to show us how to get near to Rass. You don't have to go into the city with us."

"They eat! They eeeeat!" The Mantid stood on his back two legs and grabbed Finnegaff's robe, still bouncing. "They eat you, too!"

"Would you hold still?" Mia half yelled. Maggad turned his whole head in her direction and stared at her as if he didn't understand. Perhaps he didn't, because the irritating bouncing continued.

"No, they only eat wild boy Mantids," Finnegaff told the bouncing brainless bug. "They won't eat us. Stop bouncing." The Mantid immediately ceased his irritating habit. He let go of Finnegaff's robe. Finnegaff smiled a bit sideways at Mia.

The Mantid calmed down. "Oh!" he grated. "Rass! This way!" He went tearing through the jungle.

"Friend Mantid!" Finnegaff called to Maggad. The insect returned. "We cannot run through the jungle like you can. You need to stay with us, or we'll lose you."

"Oh!" Maggad hopped as he said it. "Rass! This way!" Again he ran full speed through the foliage.

"Friend Mantid!" Finnegaff called him back. "They are a bit difficult at times," he told no one in particular.

Maggad returned and stood before Finnegaff, head cocked to one side, listening, straining with every fiber of his being to give all of the little attention he was mentally capable of. Bouncing. "Walk. We must walk, not run."

It was the hardest travel they had encountered since the beginning of Mia's Stand. The trail they followed was stark and required some guesswork in places, forcing them to rely on their confidence in an unbelievably stupid Mantid for a guide. Finnegaff spent a great deal of time attempting to slow down the determined Maggad. Mia spent even more time trying to get him to stop his incessant idiotic chatter, but it was his stupid bouncing that irritated her the most.

"Do you have beetles?" Maggad would ask each member of the stand on frequent occasion. Romessee didn't help matters. She would find a beetle, pick it up, and then call the moron insect to her to offer him the treat. He would talk incessantly about the most trivial of things. They crossed a small river. "I crossed a river! Did you know I crossed a river?" They encountered a band of monkeys. "Monkeys! Look! Look!" He would run to each of the stand. "Monkeys! Do you have beetles? I crossed a river!" And he would go on, with little or no break.

For two days they traveled thus. Mia had more than her fill of Maggad, and wanted maybe to kill him, when late in the afternoon of the third day the boy Mantid came to a halt. He began to retreat.

"No closer! No closer!" He withdrew about thirty feet from the direction they had come. He stopped and turned to look at them. "Rass! Rasssssss!" he hissed.

"How much farther?" Finnegaff asked him.

"There! There! Past trees!" He gestured to a dense forest grove.

Finnegaff lowered his staff. "Galta nah eme! Fanas rottoron nar eme stoch! (Free this one! Give him beetles for a week!). As soon as the words left Finnegaff's lips, Maggad fled into the forest and disappeared into the dense foliage. Though they caught but flashing glimpses of him, they could hear the undergrowth rustling with his hasty retreat.

Mia asked a question she had been working on. "Finnegaff," she said, "if Saa is all about good things, how were you able to make a slave out of Maggad?"

"He was, shall we say, compensated. Saa gave him an abundant supply of beetles for a week." Finnegaff never took the credit for Saa invocations, as Mia knew was just and right.

They fought their way through the last of the forest, then came upon a huge clearing in the dense growth. Well, not entirely a clearing. The area was cleared enough so that at least half of the trees had randomly been removed from the city proper. Little undergrowth remained. Though they could tell the city was big, the scattered remaining trees did not allow for the full appreciation of a city that covered three square miles in the middle of a dense jungle. Eighty percent of the female population of North Mantadia lived here. They stood on the opposite bank of a sluggish stream that bordered Rass, perhaps eight spans wide. A solid wooden bridge crossed the river some distance to their left, and it was to this bridge they headed. Finnegaff explained that the absence of Mantids guarding the bridge was due to the fact that they had very few enemies in their homeland, unlike what they, the Mantids, might experience abroad. They crossed the bridge and entered the great city of Rass.

Many of the buildings in the city, built only of sticks or boards, never of stone, were in the trees. Their roofs were palm fronds, as were many of the walls. By appearance, most of the houses seemed to be difficult for humans to access. Mantids could fly very well, negating the need for stairways, for the most part. And even old, slow Mantids were more agile than most human gymnasts. A few of the locals sighted them, but paid them little attention. Until they saw Strongwind. Belemeriath knew to stay between Grinnolle's ears, that antagonizing female Mantids was perhaps not wise. They were not two minutes inside of Mantadia when they were stopped by six Mantids carrying spears, evidently a guard. The company stopped when the first four guards split into pairs. The pairs flanked them while the remaining two blocked their path. She could not read their faces, for as everyone knows, Mantid expressions are revealed by change of antennae placement and activity, and Mia had not yet learned to interpret these signals. However, at this particular time, she had no need for this skill. The message the Mantids conveyed when they lowered their spears and pointed them at each member of Mia's Stand, was clear enough. The Mantid guards appeared ready to lunge at any moment. Mia froze.

Chapter 25

"What business have you in Rass?" one of the Mantids demanded.

Finnegaff planted Lebethtro Larra before him. Mia guessed by the Mantids' reaction that they recognized what the staff meant. "We are Mia's Stand. We have in our midst the Carrier of the Book of Life and would seek audience with the great Queen Xyledes."

The two Mantids in front of them whispered between themselves for a moment. "What of the Centaur?" the spokesman addressed Finnegaff.

"The Centaur is member to the party that Carries, as commanded by Saa."

The two Mantids nodded to one another. One turned about, hopped into the air and into flight and was gone through the treetops. "This way!" the speaker directed as she spun about and guided them through the city. The other four Mantids, the ones flanking them, kept time with the group. They held their side positions diligently.

The escort to Queen Xyledes' palace did certainly draw attention. Mantids peered from buildings; those on the ground stopped to look. Had they been without Strongwind they would not have been marched to the Palace under guard; they would have only been given directions. But Centaurs were rarely seen in Mantadia, much less in the Capitol City of Rass.

Ten minutes of fast walking and they came within sight of the grand palace. The structure was huge, many stories, balconies everywhere. Exterior openings were without doors, yet the hinged windows were glassed. Vines entwined the base of the palace; ornate painted wooden statues of infamous Mantids of days past dotted among the artfully trimmed hedges of the grounds. Small ponds were everywhere, for the race held water in high regard for decor. Water, however, was only for decor, for as everyone knows, Mantids do not care to swim. But despite the frequent scenic beauty, the Mantid guards did not stop. They were, after all, not tour guides.

Mia sensed the feeling again, the feeling that they were being watched from above by a friendly entity. She looked up and saw nothing but trees.

If one considered the landscape of the exterior of the palace to be extravagant, they must have considered the interior multiply so. Unlike other buildings that were constructed of solid walls, stairways and halls, the queen's palace had trees grown close together, forming wide corridors. Twisted pairs of spiraling rails acted as stairs to access the upper levels. Sunlight streamed bright rays in places; fine plants were growing in open soil areas bordered by a concrete-like dark gray walkway. The group advanced down a corridor thirty feet wide, the ceiling being as tall, formed of trees that had been carefully trimmed to make an arch. The hall was long. The termination of it was a wall of wood, carved, sanded, polished: a masterpiece of artwork. The doors were guarded by two Mantids dressed (a rare sight) in gold embroidered coat-like apparels that resembled tuxedos. Mia might have found their appearance humorous had an armed guard not escorted them, and had she not felt herself somewhat of a captive.

Indeed the guards were a bit intimidating. But the dozen or so Mantadian hornets that clung to the walls above the sides of the doors were frightening. Wasp-like, they were twelve or more inches long, their black with yellow-banded stout abdomens flatly joined to a powerful thorax that bore a yellow on black diamond centered between two pair of long, narrow iridescent purple wings. Mia's eyes went right to the stinger at the very end of the throbbing abdomen, the only part of the insect that was moving. It was the size of an index finger and sharp as a sewing needle. Most intimidating, however, was the way they watched. With rapid jerks, they turned their entire bodies to face the newcomers head on, then freeze at attention. They would extend their six inch antennae forward over angry-looking unblinking emerald green compound eyes that glistened as abalone, sending a strong message to any they focused on. Chills ran down Mia's spine as she recalled the stories of Mantadian hornets, and of what they were capable. And here she was only a few yards from them.

The guards in tuxedos opened the tall doors to the queen's chambers with no noticeable prompting. The party's escort, the individual who had been the speaker, went into the room. Soon she returned.

"The great Queen Xyledes will see you shortly. Not the Centaur and the fairy. They must take leave of the palace to the grounds. Centaur! Fairy! Come! The rest wait here."

Mia could tell that Strongwind did not care for the manner in which the Mantid addressed him any more than she. He nearly retaliated but for Finnegaff lifting a finger to his lips. With a heavy sigh he and Belemeriath followed the guard back in the direction from which they had come.

Inside the chambers, Queen Xyledes lounged. Finnegaff, Mia, Carameth and Romessee waited, standing directly in front of the door to the queen's chamber. The tuxedo bugs made no move and even less conversation. The hornets were statically locked onto their targets, crouching as if ready to spring into flight to attack each time one of the company made more than a slight move. Truly, their presence made one quite nervous.

Inside her chamber, the great Queen Xyledes had absolutely nothing to do at the time. And that is precisely what she did for more than an hour before she granted audience to Mia's Stand, forcing them to wait in the company of her unnerving guard. Again without evident prompting, the tuxedoed bugs opened the doors and held them so. They stood aside. Their stance was most probably at attention, but they made no other invitation to enter. Finnegaff led the way.

One of the many Mantids present in the room sat at a table of varnished wood with a book opened in front of her, a quill in her foreleg, an inkwell beside. The court scribe, Mia guessed correctly. Another hung upside down from one of the branches of one of the trees, a favored rest position for Mantids. Still another Mantid was busy with a flat paddle-like tool, preening the wings of a Mantid stretched out on what would be a couch, if one were a Mantid. This unmistakably was the great Queen Xyledes, dressed in a white coat, also tuxedo in style, with gold embroidery, flows of lavish fringing, and a spindly curling silk material that bordered the sleeves. A small monkey was perched on the couch beside her. She stroked the contented pet's fur with her antennae.

She waved off the servant with one flip of her praying hand and stood to greet the party. Finnegaff approached in the lead, then Mia, Romessee and finally Carameth. "My dear!" the great Queen Xyledes buzzed. "How wonderful to see you again! It's been so long!" She extended a forearm in the manner of Mantid formality.

Finnegaff smiled. He offered his hand, palm down, as was customary. "Great Queen Xyledes! I am..." He was stopped short as the Queen bypassed his offered greeting. She went directly to Carameth. Finnegaff lost his smile as he turned to watch her.

"My dear Prince Carameth! I trust your mother is well!"

"Yes, your highness!" He formally took her outstretched claw and held it at her head level. Female Mantids were larger than males, much larger. Queen Xyledes was five and a half feet long head to tail, an average size for a Mantid. Some were six and a half feet or better. "Mother sends her regards and wanted me to ask you whatever happened with the broach?"

Xyledes laughed the strange, electric, rapid laugh of Mantids and waved her forelegs in the air. "Tell her I have it yet! Tell her the spider lost!" There was not one present, including Carameth, that knew what private joke it was that was shared between Queens Xyledes and Ronnameth.

"Finnegaff!" He again held his hand to her, but she did not take it. "You know that there has not been a Centaur in Rass in nearly four hundred years! Not a living one!" She was calm yet stern.

Finnegaff lowered his hand. "This is the Carrying of the Book of Life, as provided by Saa," he began.

"Yet you attempt to bring that vile creature to my chamber?" she retorted. "And with the company of a fairy?!"

"They're out of the palace, queen!" He intentionally omitted her title. He regained his smile.

"Great Queen Xyledes, dear Finnegaff!" she corrected.

"Well, yes. Great Queen Xyledes," he sighed. "They're not..."

"I heard you, Lord Finnegaff. Now," she turned to look at the others. "Which of you Carries?"

"This is Miagaff," Finnegaff began.

"I didn't ask you, wizard!" she snapped. Her voice turned sweet. Sweet, at least, for a Mantid. "I asked the Carrier." Finnegaff knew that Xyledes harried him so out of jealousy. She deeply resented that he was much more respected than she on Morrah as a whole. He did try to ignore her, but couldn't resist taunting her a bit every now and then. There was a silence. "Well?"

"Great Queen Xyledes, it is I, Miagaff, that Carries the Book of Life." Mia offered her hand as she had seen Carameth and Finnegaff.

Xyledes took her hand, bowing slightly. The chitin shell of her claw was smooth yet warm. "An honor, Carrier! Welcome to Mantadia and also to the comforts of my palace! I shall introduce Princess Riccid, my daughter." One of the other Mantids had since come to the queen's side. It was to her that Xyledes motioned.

"Great day, Carameth!" Princess Riccid looked, as Mantids do, at the Prince of the Elves. "I hope you brought me a present." She turned from him without waiting for a reply. "Mother, I am not travelling with a Centaur or a fairy!" Riccid snapped at Mia. "You will have to send them away. Mother, make them send it away!" She bounced after the same fashion of the unintelligent wild male Mantids. Mia formed an opinion of Princess Riccid rather abruptly.

The queen spoke directly to Mia, excusing her offspring. "Riccid is a bit anxious about representing Mantadia for this Carrying." Mia noted that the scribe was writing all of this down. "It is, of course, Riccid that Saa shall choose."

Mia was more than a little irritated. "Well, it depends on what Saa decides. It's not my choice who goes. I need to ask Saa about it." She crossed her arms over the hidden Book.

"Then ask," the queen demanded, "and ask now. I'm sure Saa will agree."

Mia closed her eyes, not that she needed to in order to invoke Saa's visions. Xyledes' arrogance, her demanding nature, fueled her anger. What an ego! she thought. This bug's really stuck on herself! She tried to invoke Saa and received nothing. She held her head high as she opened her eyes. "Saa does not answer at this time."

The queen pet the attendant monkey with one of her antennae. "Mia." She did not include her wizard's title. "Have you met Rokka, my beloved companion?"

Mia addressed the adorable little animal. "Hello, Rokka. How are you today?"

"Monkeys do not speak, ignorant human," Xyledes said. "Just stroke it, as you would a pet. And try to be gentle, for it is frail."

Mia glared at the queen as she pet the monkey, believing that Xyledes could not read her expressions any more than she could read Xyledes. Of course, she was wrong. One does not maintain the position of queen of a great nation for hundreds of years without mastering body language interpretation, even if from other races. Xyledes' antennae shot straight up in response to Mia's facial expressions, then crossed one another.

"Mother!" Riccid demanded the queen's attention. "Make her decide! Now!"

"Ask again," The queen commanded. "Tell Saa that I, Queen Xyledes, have, with my infinite wisdom, decided on our representative."

"It doesn't work that way," Mia sassed.

Queen Xyledes froze for a few tense moments. "I have decided that it would be appropriate that you ask of Saa a bit later," she waved a foreleg. "I find that it is not yet time for me to summon the power, that Riccid will be chosen later this evening. Come. My servants have prepared evening meal for us." She swung her unblinking eyes to Mia. "Don't worry, ignorant human. They know your diet."

Mia was boiling. She snapped an angry glance at Finnegaff, who nodded his head and smiled. "We'll be delighted, great queen!" His eyes shot to Mia, then back to Xyledes. It was then that Mia realized the queen was indeed aware of their emotion through facial expression and tone of voice, and if Finnegaff hid these things from Xyledes, she probably ought to as well.

"Please, Lord Finnegaff. It is 'Great Queen Xyledes'. Or your majesty. Try your hardest to get it right! Though I doubt you ever will." She stepped from the couch. Her gaggle of servants followed her as she regally strode to the door. Regal, at least, for Mantids.

"What about Strongwind?" Mia inquired about her Centaurian friend.

The queen stopped, but didn't bother to turn to face them. "What is a Strongwind?" She knew.

"Our friend you made wait outside." She didn't want to use the word 'Centaur'. "Are your servants getting something for him?" Mia had a hand on her hip, the other on Dielielle.

Xyledes spun at high speed. She covered the few steps to come inches from Mia's face in less than a heartbeat. "Your friend? That disgusting manhorse," her speech was faster than usual, "is alive only because of the Book of Life. He would be our supper if not for that. And you want me to accommodate him?" She laughed as she skittered from room. The others nearly ran to keep up. Out of sheer defiance, Mia decided that she would sneak some tidbits for Strongwind from the queen's table.

Evening fell as Mia's Stand, (less Belemeriath and Strongwind), Queen Xyledes, Riccid and a host of well-dressed Mantid nobles were seated at the long oval dining table in the brightly torch- lit dining hall. Some of the chairs were formed for humans. It felt good to at last be able to sit.

Chatter filled the room. Nobles met with the Carrier of the Book of Life and expressed their honor in having done so. They were contrastingly pleasant, considering the attitude of their queen. The meal the Mantadian cooks had prepared for their guests was decent, common foodstuffs. Mia was somewhat repulsed watching the Mantids eat the live insects they were served, often with the legs removed, which were placed on the side as tidbits. At one point in time, when Mia believed nobody was looking, she went to sneak an apple into a pocket of her tunic for Strongwind. Finnegaff, seated next to her on her left, bumped her with his foot under the table. He shook his head slightly with a noticeable frown. She had not seen that he was watching her, as he had been facing the other direction, engaged in conversation with Skallagaff, the Mantid wizard Advisor to Kings. Mia paused, then took a bite from the apple and looked around to see if any present had taken notice of her attempted thievery. Not a one indicated that they had, but Finnegaff's reprimand said otherwise.

The Mantid social event was short. Finnegaff was speaking with Skallagaff about the absolute necessity of showing honor to some Mantid tradition of "dining with the queen." Xyledes promptly interrupted them with the demand that everyone present pays her attention.

One of the tuxedo Mantids stood beside Queen Xyledes, seated at the head of the table. She beat rapidly on a small drum that when struck emitted a wheezy whistling noise. "All attend her Majesty! All attend her Majesty!" she called. She continued the drumming for a minute after all was silent. When the drum ceased, the queen was introduced. "Presenting her royal majesty, the great Queen Xyledes, Queen of Northern Mantadia and Overlord to Southern Mantadia; protector and mother to all Mantids; upholder of justice and chief advisor to the Wizard's Council." Chief advisor! That's Finnegaff's job! Mia's jaw dropped at the last one, which earned her another of Finnegaff's under the table reminders. She closed her mouth and forced an unpleasant smile.

The queen rose. She scanned her audience with nodding approval. "My dear friends and countrymants!" She looked at Finnegaff. "And other lesser races!" Queen Xyledes glanced at a parchment held before her by one of her servants. "We gather to pay honor to the eighth Carrying of the Book of Life, which is now in our time and, as you know, in our midst. Four hundred years have passed since the seventh, and as also you all know, our hour is before us. Finnegaff the Sorcerer and his stand, as they call it, have journeyed far and with cause; I know you will support this cause.

"When Lord Finnegaff first arrived in Rass, upon sighting me, he fell to his knees and begged my aid to which I said alas! but I must not interfere with the direct of Saa, as his must needs be met by that direct, lest I am blasphemous." Mia took another reminder from the wizard's foot. She fixed a phony smile on her face. She kept quiet, much against her irritation at the arrogant, repeatedly dishonest queen. "It was a year ago that I prophesied this coming; I..."

Xyledes went on for an hour about herself, about just how great, how good she thought she was. As the queen droned on, it was all Mia could do to keep from showing facial expressions. Finnegaff listened tentatively through the whole ordeal. He smiled and nodded occasionally. It was some time later that Mia learned Saa could be invoked to block out unwanted noise, provisioned so to allow audio reception to resume when the subject matter directly involved the wizard invoking Saa. After quite some time it did involve him directly, and thus the spell was canceled.

Xyledes was getting to the point. "...As Saa be the great decider of the representative. I have met the Carrier, Miagaff," this time she did add the gaff, "and spoke with her at some length, and together we decided that Saa will choose after the evening banquet. Miagaff, Carrier of the Book of Life! Come forward." The great Queen Xyledes looked at her. She looked at Finnegaff. Finnegaff motioned for her to go. Mia approached the queen, who laid a fore claw firmly yet gently on her shoulder. "Princess Riccid, heir to the throne of Mantadia! Come forward!" The princess had not far to go. She was the first seated to Xyledes right on the side of the table. She stood beside her mother opposite Mia, bouncing that stupid, irritating bouncing habit, which Mia found quite distracting. Xyledes placed her other claw on her daughter's shoulder. Riccid still bounced.

She waited smugly for the murmur among the attendees to die down. "And now, Miagaff shall call upon the power of Saa and reveal the identity of the Mantadian representative of the eight Carrying!" It's not the power of Saa, Mia thought. It's just Saa. Idiot. She smiled brightly. Xyledes swiveled her head to Mia. "Now, Miagaff!"

Mia closed her eyes and tried to invoke Saa for the choice. She pictured in her mind blurting out an unknown name, the name of the Mantadian representative, but nothing happened. She was not going to choose Riccid unless Saa forced her to! She kept her eyes closed. With fear, she pictured Riccid in the Saa part of her mind as one of the members of Mia's Stand. This time she connected. The warm, soft flood of Saa overtook her in an instant, followed by a vision, a feeling vision that answered her question without doubt: Riccid was not to be the Mantadian representative. She would not accompany Mia's Stand on any accord.

Queen Xyledes recognized a wizard in communion with a vision of Saa. Her anxiety got the best of her and she started to bounce along with Riccid. Mia felt sick. "Well? Well? Speak now, and we'll be rid of the Centaur and the annoying fairy and be on with the Carrying!"

Mia, having sat through more than an hour of Xyledes' absolutely unnerving speech, felt a deep loyalty to Saa that until that very moment she realized had been shallow in comparison. She then spoke, her voice filled with clear authority. It was not Mia who spoke, but Miagaff the Sorceress, the Carrier of the Book of Life, strong in faith of Saa, loyal to her duty. She firmly planted the end of Dielielle on the ground and held the staff with both hands at an angle. "I have been with Saa, and do not have a representative for Mantadia. Not yet. But Saa directed me that, whoever might the representative be, it will not be the Princess Riccid, and when we leave she is not to accompany us." Her wording was clumsier than she'd wanted. But the point was made. She had been looking at Finnegaff as she spoke. He smiled and nodded his head. Mia only hoped to keep hers attached.

A lengthy silence screamed in the room. Queen Xyledes whispered. "This is not what we discussed, human!" The silence was so complete that all could hear. She tightened her grip on Mia's shoulder until it pained. Mia did not let the hurt show. "Carrier. Tell Saa that it is I, the great Queen Xyledes, that made the decision."

Mia boiled. She spoke through her teeth. "I did, and I was told that Saa does not put one being above the other, no matter who it is." And all present knew this to be true.

The queen spoke calmly as she made a strange twisting motion with her antennae."Obviously you'll need time to think about this." Immediate was the response of her guards. They came to her side and snapped to attention. "Take this human and her host to the dungeon. Lock the Centaur and the fairy up with them!" The guards seized them.

Chapter 26

The iron grip the six-foot Mantid had on Mia's arm was on the brink of pain. The Mantid's prayer-like foreleg felt like giant steel scissors wrapped about her biceps, ready to sever her arm like pruning shears on a small twig. She was afraid to move even the slightest amount.

Xyledes confronted the guard who had subdued Carameth. "Not the elf! Guard. Release him. Escort Prince Carameth to our guest suite. Give him anything he wants except for their release." She motioned toward Finnegaff, Mia and Romessee. "Remove them from my sight! The rest of you, get out of here!" She waved a foreleg at the audience. She stormed off in a huff, after the fashion that Mantids huff, Riccid trailing.

"Mother!" Riccid demanded. "I'm not going to be the representative? Why?"

"Shut up, Riccid!" Xyledes continued to storm off. She did not even face her child when she retaliated.

"You promised, mother!" Riccid struck back. "You said..." They certainly had the undivided attention of their guests. All present watched in silence.

"Shut up, Riccid!" Xyledes yelled. "You and I will speak now." They yelled at each other at the same time as they stomped down the large corridor that led to Xyledes' chamber.

"...That I could go and you let her push you around! I can't believe you, mother..."

"...In my chambers. You don't talk to me that way! I am not only your mother. I'm you're queen! And...."

"...You're the queen! Tell her she has to do what you say or you'll kill the Centaur and the Fairy..."

"...You are under my authority for both! If you are to some day heir the throne, you need to...no! You know we don't kill without good reason..."

"...If they don't mind you! I am going! I am! And...it is a good reason..."

The Great Queen Xyledes would someday die. The crown of Mantadia would then pass to the arrogant, spoiled Princess Riccid. For reason unknown, Mia knew that she needed to bear witness to this confrontation and let it burn into her memory forever. She had paid close attention as the royal family departed, and was unable to take her eyes from them until they exited through the doorway to the queen's chambers.

"I'm disappointed," Finnegaff said as the queen disappeared with the princess, "that we have to forgo the honor to the great Mantadian tradition of having..." He was cut off in mid sentence when a guard ushered him along.

Mia and the others were also shaken back to reality as the arresting guards showed the way out of the palace, if not a bit roughly. They did not disarm the three; they knew better than to try to take a wizard's staff from its owner. Mantids were very strong for their size, five times the strength of a strong man. The guards half carried their captives across the gardens of the palace, down into a large hole in the ground- it was not much more than that, a hole in the ground, but big enough for a good sized wagon to pass through- hidden in a mass of dense rain forest undergrowth. Downward they went into the cave, a naturally formed cavern that was lined with caged cutouts in the light brown sandstone that acted as prison cells. The oval cavern had a slow natural stream flowing through it, shallow, three feet wide, little more than a coating of water. More water trickled from the sandstone walls of the prison as it leaked through the porous stone of the entire dungeon. The evaporation of the water caused a cooling effect, humidifying the mildewed air. There were so many trickles of water running in the natural cave that the floor was entirely wet.

Several Mantids were posted to the prison. Wardens, jailers. It was not until the Mantid guards squealed the steel-barred door of the cell closed that Finnegaff, Mia and Romessee realized that Strongwind and Belemeriath had been imprisoned in the adjoining cell. The same bars that formed the jail door separated the two sets of prisoners, and they could see each other dimly. It took some time for their eyes to adjust, for indeed the few torches offered little light.

Belemeriath sat upon Strongwind's back cross-legged with hands behind, holding him in a reclined position. He sprang to his feet and took to flight to the bars separating the two cells. "I can get out any time I want!" he said. He flew to Finnegaff. "I can pick these locks easy!"

"No, no," Finnegaff held up a hand palm out. "We'll be getting out soon."

It was the first time since they had arrived in Rass that Mia felt she could speak her mind. "What is the matter with that stupid insect?!" she threw her arms into the air. "What a bunch of crap! 'I'm the chief advisor to the Wizard's Council!' "She positioned her arms as a dog does when begging and buzzed the words through her teeth in mock of Mantid speech." 'Alas! I don't interfere with Saa!' Right!" Romessee was laughing at her. Mia had not intended her impersonation to be a humorous one. "Did you hear her? She called me an incompetent human!"

"No," corrected Finnegaff. "She called you an ignorant human!"

"Whatever!" Mia held her arms out with palms up. She dropped them. "We better be out of here soon!" She looked to the old wizard. "So how long do you think?"

"Not long." Finnegaff sat on the bench that ran the length of the rocky back wall. He lit his pipe with a stick he had snapped from the so-called furniture.

"Right. Not long. But how do you know?" she spat. "What's 'not long' mean to someone who's over three thousand years old, anyway? Twenty years?!"

Romessee laughed at her again. Mia glared at her. "I'm sorry," Romessee said, a hand covering her smile.

"I am certain because I know Queen Xyledes. She won't interfere with the Carrying. And she knows all about the rules that Saa mandates." Finnegaff was really irritating Mia. He was entirely too relaxed for her mood.

"Might she, yet she be Mantid none the less," Strongwind sneered, shaking a fist. He clenched his teeth. "They be vile creatures without heart."

"At least we'll get some good sleep tonight." Finnegaff leaned back on the bench.

"Yes, that's true," Romessee said. "As another stands guard."

"What do you mean, good sleep?!" Mia said. "We're in jail, you guys! Man! That queen is totally jacked!" Finnegaff gave her the look he reserved for her when she used outworlder slang that he didn't understand. "You know what I mean! Jacked!" she shook her head and snorted, then dropped onto a stone bench. Her face met her hands. "I'm sorry, you guys," she said without looking up. "She really ticked me off!"

"She has that effect on all of us, dear," Finnegaff smiled. "You got a good lesson about the nature of the great Queen Xyledes."

"She sure thinks she's great!" Romessee volunteered.

"In all actuality," Finnegaff tightened his lips, "she is."

"There be not great Mantids!" Strongwind cursed the race. "They all be despicable and..."

"I wouldn't be so hasty, friend manhorse. We're soon gonna keep company with one for a considerable amount of time." The reclined Finnegaff pulled his hat over his eyes and puffed gently on his pipe.

"I shall do me duty to Saa, and no more!" Strongwind humbled his attitude but a little. He abruptly turned his head to the door of his cell. He caught the slight movement of the torch-lit face of a little Mantid jailer that had been listening in on their conversation. Mia followed his startled gaze, then in turn stared at the eavesdropper. Something looked different about her, something physical that she could not place. The Mantid just stood there, unresponsive to the attention she had drawn from the prisoners.

Mia strode to the front of the cell. "What do you want?"

The Mantid emitted chirping sounds, pitiful little peeps. Finnegaff had silently come up behind Mia. He placed a hand on her shoulder. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. Even the whispers echoed. "She's crying," he said. Only the drip, drip, drip of water could be heard with the small Mantid's chirping. "It's the way Mantids express their sorrow."

Mia's heart went out to the creature. Indeed, it was a most pitiful sound. She grasped the jail bars in her hands. "What's wrong, dear?"

The Mantid chirped a few more times before turning her bulging eyes to Strongwind. "Not all Mantids are haters of Centaurs!" She chirped a few short bursts. "I do not hate you for who you are. I know what it feels like!" Her speech was difficult to understand, as if she spoke with a heavy accent.

Strongwind pointed a finger at the little insect. "You cannot know me humiliation, me dishonor!" He was gruff with her. "If you were to be in me place, you would think not as you do!"

"I am in your place, manhorse!" the Mantid rasped. "I have lived most of my life in this dungeon!"

"You be not behind bars, bulbeyes!" Strongwind gritted his teeth.

"Strongwind, I want to hear this one." Finnegaff, having returned to his reclined position, pointed with his pipe as he pulled his hat over his face. "What is your name, jailer?"

"I am Zimmictreckt," she swiveled her head slightly.

"Yes. Well, Zimm," Finnegaff shortened the hard to pronounce name, "tell us why you feel like you do."

Zimm was quiet for a moment, and seemed quite emotional, at least in the manner of Mantids."I, too, am different." One had to pay close attention, for her accent was thick. "Not as you, Centaur. Centaurs are many. My kind are few."

"Is it your accent?" Mia guessed. "Are you from some other place?"

"There are no dialects among the Mantids. Dialects happen only in Upper Morrah. And of other races. It is the shape of my head that makes me speak as I do. It's what makes me different."

Mia began to understand. She remembered children in her past that she herself had harassed. One that came to mind was a shy girl with a cleft pallet named Whitney. Whitney was really very nice, very bright, had a good sense of humor, and was an interesting person. Despite this, Mia had taunted her. For years she felt guilt for her inaction, unable to make amends due to pressure peers placed upon her. As she grew older, her taunts to the unfortunate girl metamorphosed into ignorance, Mia's choice being to ignore Whitney's difference for the sake of acceptance in other more popular circles. And even for this Mia felt guilt. "And the other kids teased you," she concluded.

"No...yes," Zimm corrected herself. "Not only the young, but all. My mother would not let me sleep in the same trees as my sisters or eat with them, and I could not go to schools the same time they did."

"All because of the way you talk?"

"Our language is beautiful and flowing." Zimm proclaimed it as a well-known fact. Mia didn't share the glorifying view of the buzzing, rasping sounds of the Mantid race. "I destroy its beauty when I speak. It is dishonor to our kind."

"You are scorned because of harmless differences you have no control of," Romessee said. She was using her talent for 'feeling' others emotions, the gift of Pirasaa. Within herself, she was excited for the opportunity to practice such with a Mantid, a rare opportunity for her. She was encouraged by her success. "It's prejudice and rejection that you feel."

"And more. It's total, and it's lifelong. I'm different, and though my assignment is one that nobody else wants, I at least am still alive. I thank Saa for that."

"Do you know Saa?" Mia said in a rising tone.

"Yes; I know Saa."

"No, I mean do you..."

"Yes, she does," Finnegaff interrupted. "She knows Saa as you mean, dear. Now please let Zimm finish. I think this is kind of important."

"I have a condition called a double clypeus. It's a defect of birth." She touched a fore claw to one of the plates on her head. "It makes my speech wrong. All my life I have been avoided and shunned. Few have anything to do with me. Skallagaff the Sorceress is my friend, and Karthich. Karthich has a double clypeus, too. She guards the door. There." Zimm pointed with her antennae to the doorway where a lone Mantid stood. "She and I are the only ones in Rass like this.

"What has this to do with me?" the Centaur demanded.

Zimm was the more aggressive. "I am as you, manhorse. In my country I am imprisoned for what I am, as you are, not for who I am, but for things that are not of my choice. In most other lands, neither of us are treated like this." She allowed for her last line to absorb into Strongwind. Obvious was his taking of her words from the change of his expression. She was quiet, yet remained confident. "I came over here to see who you are, to learn what you are. What are you called?"

Strongwind looked to the ground, in shame or in thought no one knew, much less he. "I am called Strongwind of Blackmane's Point."

Zimm had years to prepare for this conversation. She held a life-long yearning to find others who were cast out as was she, for the chance to voice her powerful beliefs. "I think that truth is what should win. Do you think that, Strongwind of Blackmane's Point?"

"Yes, it should be so. But it...."

"But it does not, not every time. I think that peace and agreement are fruitful. Do you think this way, Strongwind?"

"Well, of course, but..."

"But we have wars, do we not, Strongwind, which are not agreement, and are not fruitful. Yet that is the way of the races. Is one of your kind born with hair that is light in color an evil? An outcast?"

Blond hair was quite uncommon among the Centaurs. He thought of the nearly white haired Starrelocke. His head shot up and his eyes opened wide. "No! Of course not!"

"I think someone should be judged on what they stand for and what actions they take, not how they appear or sound. Do you not also think this, Strongwind?"

"That is just, Mantid." His hatred, at least for this little Mantid, was receding.

"I think you may be a good and kind being, Strongwind. As am I. I care to not see you as half-horse and half-man. I see a heart that cares, a mind that strives to do right, an honor that serves duty. Is that what you are?"

Strongwind slowly lowered his still clenched fists. "Yes." He nodded his head. "Yes, it be for what I stand."

"As do I, Strongwind. I do not hate you for what you appear to be. I admire you for what you truly are. Here." Zimm reached behind her and produced a half-full burlap sack. "I know how they treat outsiders. I brought you this." She handed the sack to Strongwind, who slowly took it. He opened it, reached inside, and removed fruit and vegetables, some of those he had earlier declared to be his favorites. He was very hungry, as vegetarians his size require a great deal of sustenance. He eyed the contents of the bag suspiciously. "Don't worry," Zimm said. "I didn't poison it."

"I thought that not!" Strongwind snapped his head erect in protest. He replaced the items to the sack except an apple, which he ate in two bites.

Zimm sat as Mantids do and spoke to Mia. "You are the honored Carrier," she said in a different tone.

"Yes. They call me that," Mia smiled tightly.

"Mantid!" Strongwind called. "I do mean to say, Zimm!" He softened his voice as he lowered his head. "I do thank you for this meal. I be famished!" He looked at the Mantid with grateful eyes. "I do mean to apologize." He lifted his head, jutting his black beard forward in pride. He was a Centaur, after all, and as it was well known, Centaurs are strong in honor and pride. He pointed a finger at Zimm. "But it be not for your condition that I apologize! It be because I do stand on those principles!"

Zimm softly mumbled something. She touched the twig she had been holding to the ground. Mia felt a small, gentle warm rush of Saa overcome her. As the clean power of Saa pinnacled, the Centaur Strongwind shook his head slightly. He probed his inner ear with his right fourth finger, having developed a tickling sensation there, yet knew he not of its true source.

Mia was reminded of her stay at Marigaff's Farm, of when she would practice Saa with other novice wizards. She felt their Saa: bumpy, rough, and often misdirected. Zimm's Saa was smooth, as expertly controlled as any she'd felt before. In her last few days of training at Marigaff's Farm, Mia had learned, by the stern insistence from her mentor, that she must know how to identify to what degree wizards were able to control Saa. What Zimm had exhibited was years past novice. Mia was impressed. "Wow!" she gasped. "That was good! Very good!"

Except for a single small high-pitched chirp, Zimm made not a sound. She stood nearly still, stationary but for her slightly quaking head and the tremble of her left second tarsus. Mia correctly interpreted the noise as Zimm's attempt to not cry. Her compassionate heart went out to the Mantid, though Mia could not imagine why one would feel sad when invoking Saa. A sudden warm breeze crept through the dungeon. Mia then became aware of the fungal mildewed odors as they were replaced with fresher air. She reached between the jail cell bars and laid a hand upon Zimm's warm, hard shoulder. "What?" she pleaded with genuine concern. "What is it?"

Zimm said nothing at first as she fought away chirps. The oppression had been too much for too long. "I am even shunned for that to which I am most loyal." She chirped a tiny noise.

"Take your time," Mia said, using the line Marigaff had used on her when she had taken turn to have been comforted by a sorceress. Mia's tone changed to sarcasm. "We probably have all night."

Zimm laughed the nervous rapid laughter typical of Mantids. Mia laughed with her, caught in a moment when a reality might require humor to relieve stress, as certainly, Mia had learned, it sometimes does.

Zimm went on. "They do not like me invoking Saa. I get in trouble when they find out, and it all comes from my deformity. Very few are the Mantids born with the gift of Saa, about one every hundred years. It is for this reason that Skallagaff befriends me. Wizards do not oppress Saa in any way. And she graces me by being blind to my deformity."

"That was good, Zimm!" Mia continued her praise. "I mean your invocation. I wish I could be so smooth! You should go to Marigaff's Farm."

"I'm going to!" She brightened.

"When? I mean, you should have been there a long time ago!"

"I know. But I go in two and a half months. One hundred and nine days." Mia noted that she knew exactly how many days she had. She probably knew the exact time as well. "And I will leave and never return. I'm taking Karthich with me, but she's not of age to leave Mantadia on her own consent. That is what I wait for."

"You mean you could already be there, but you're waiting for Karthich?"

"Yes."

Mia admired the fierce loyalty in this Mantid. "Does Karthich know Saa?"

"No, she doesn't," Zimm said, "but she will leave with me. It is worse for her than it is for me."

"Hey," Mia smiled. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "What did you do to Strongwind?"

The little Mantid twittered happily. "I gave him peaceful rest! He, I think, needs it. Today was hard for him." Mia was moved by Zimm's gift to what might, under other conditions, had been her adversary.

Strongwind lay on the stony floor as Centaurs do, half asleep as he finished the last of the groceries given him by Zimm. His head would fall, then he would jerk himself upright to take a bite of a piece of fruit. His chewing would slow down as his head again would nod. Again he would jerk to awake. Mia laughed to herself. He was cute like that, appearing as a huge bearded child trying unsuccessfully to stay awake in a high chair. Finnegaff and Romessee were both sound asleep on benches along the back of the cell. Mia visited with Zimm for a short time but soon Zimm and Karthich had their posts relieved by the next shift of jailers. Mia found a carved out section of rock adjoining a bench that wasn't dripping water. She curled up into it and promptly fell asleep and into a vivid dream.

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.

Part of her wished to disallow this bullying, to inform the queen that she would invoke Saa when she was good and ready. She decided that such a statement would most likely worsen matters. She was tired of playing Xyledes' games. She hoped to get this over with so that she could get her stand out of Mantadia as quickly as possible.

Mia stood erect. Her eyes bored into the hateful queen not two spans away. She held Dielielle before her as she spoke in a commanding voice, her eyes locked on Xyledes. "Saa! Skalle beke pialle duo?" (Saa! Which shall join us?) The queen jumped back with a start, for as everyone knows, a wizard wielding a staff while invoking Saa, further directing facial expression such as the one Mia now directed to Xyledes, usually meant that something very unpleasant was going to happen to them.

One of the myths about wizards on Morrah was that a crossed wizard might change one into some despicable animal or worse. But it was not wholly myth, and was not wholly without historical factual basis.

Loud buzzing overcame the silence in the room as the Mantadian hornets, sensing that something was wrong, took to flight to protect their queen. Confused, they attacked no one, for they knew not who their adversary might be. Mia's heart jumped despite the warm flood of the power of Saa, the strong, dominant visions of feeling and word that flooded her head.

"Stop! At attention!" Xyledes commanded the huge hornets. They reluctantly obeyed, and soon perched again in regular stations about the walls of the chamber.

"Zimmictreckt will represent Mantadia for the eight Carrying of the Book of Life!" Mia knew it to be Saa, not she. Xyledes froze. One could hear small clicking sounds emanating from the royal Mantid. Mia didn't know what the clicking sounds meant. Only that they probably weren't good sounds.

Skallagaff, the Mantid wizard, the council's advisor to all kings, held her staff, Tabelliah, in a vertical fashion as she approached Mia. She laid her fore claw on Mia's neck. Mia felt the warmth of Saa wash her from head to toe as Skallagaff invoked the gift of Yamasaa on her. "It is as Saa directs." She removed her claw from Mia.

"Karthich is to accompany us," Mia commanded again, congratulating herself for the authoritative tone in which she delivered the statement. Saa had not given her vision of Karthich. Mia felt for the poor, little Mantid. She could not leave her to the cruelties of her kindred. With any luck, Skallagaff would not scan her again.

Skallagaff's fore claw touched Mia's neck. She held very still. The magic of Saa passed through her.

The Mantid wizard's head turned and stopped within inches of Mia's face, an insect gaze, expressionless, cold. "It is also the direct of Saa," Skallagaff confirmed, quite to Mia's surprise. Skallagaff had lied for her! Still, she trembled, and slowly let out a broken sigh of relief.

"ZIMMICKTREKT! KARTHICH!" Riccid roared. "Mother! Make her do it again! She's lying!" But Xyledes was already on her feet. The queen stormed out into the hallway, tipped over a few vases that were on pillars along her way, smashing them to bits. Riccid followed with incessant spoiled insistence. "Mother! I am going! You can't..."

Mia yelled after the raging royal Mantids. "XYLEDES! RICCID!" She was strong, commanding, violating protocol by not using the political titles demanded by the queen. She stood hand on hip, Dielielle butt down at arm's length. She could hardly believe what she was doing at that moment, the boldness behind her action. She knew, too, that it was not entirely she. Finnegaff took a step toward her with a finger raised, shaking his head. Without taking her eyes from the queen and the princess, Mia stopped him cold with an outstretched arm, palm outward.

Chapter 28

The queen froze in her tracks. Her royal highness shook with rage. Her bouncing daughter continued to chatter. "Mother! Tell her! You're supposed to be a mighty ruler! We're better than..."

"Enough, Riccid!" Mia spoke with volume only slightly over normal tone. Mantid gasps filtered through the crowd. Nobody talked to the great Queen Xyledes' daughter like that! Riccid fell quiet.

"Queen Xyledes, Princess Riccid." She had their attention, to say the least. The queen did not turn to face her, yet gave audience all the same. "Your duties lie here. Queen Xyledes, Mantadia requires your leadership. Princess Riccid, you must learn to be a leader yourself, as one day the jungle shall weep and it is then that you shall rule. It is not prudent for you to be a representative, as the dark snake shall attempt to prevail, and the rivers may run green but for the seed of the flower. It is for you to rule justly and prevail over the darkness that threatens your loyal subjects. Your duties lie here, for the life of royalty is a martyred one." Mia knew the words were not her own, but forever in history were known to all as the First Prophesy of Miagaff the Sorceress. The scribe had finished writing. She was stunned, even more so than others in the room, for she as a historian knew the deep historical proportion of what they had witnessed. As well did Finnegaff.

Xyledes stopped trembling. She slowly turned to face Mia. The hornets appeared on guard more so than ever, but Mia noticed them not. Her firm gaze was locked on the queen. "It is so," spoke the great Queen Xyledes, "that royalty is martyrdom." Xyledes looked down at her daughter. She placed a forearm gently about her shoulder. Her voice was soft, for a Mantid. "This is so, my loving child. Our duties lie here." She spoke in a way that placed an end to the spoiled Princess Riccid's thwarted demands. The tone of the queen's voice, formed by many such conflicts carried on within the royal family, was the learned indicator accepted by the two that brought finality to disagreement. And thus did closure come. They slowly turned away and walked down the hall. They left the chamber and went out into the courtyard and to privacy. Princess Riccid cried high, pitiful, chirping noises into her mother's arms.

Mia's knees were suddenly weak and shaky. Carameth had come to her aid from behind. He placed his strong hands on her shuddering shoulders. She began to cry.

"Not now. Cry later," he whispered in her ear. His words were few, yet powerful. They came to her as advisory to proper behavior for those of power, which certainly he was qualified to give. His voice carried wisdom, firm yet sympathetic, bonding.

Mia diverted her tears by focusing her thoughts on the tyrannical Queen Xyledes. The silence of the chamber broke into an excited murmuring buzz. Finnegaff was about to say something when a single messenger escorted Zimmictreckt and Karthich through the tall doors. He led them to the dais where the group stood.

Mia, Dielielle cradled on her arms, hands clasped, bounced up and down on her toes, then stopped the motion when she realized what she was doing. She smiled at the two Mantids. "Well?"

Zimm cocked her head. "Well what?" she asked.

It occurred to Mia that they might have not yet learned of their fate. It was Finnegaff who spoke. "Saa has chosen two representatives for Mantadia for the Carrying of the Book of Life." He smiled, arms folded across his chest. The Mantids stared at him.

"It is you!" Mia exclaimed. "You're going!"

Zimm's antennae were twisting in a most peculiar fashion. Karthich began the high chirping crying of Mantids.

"Karthich goes with us." Finnegaff explained.

"She is not of age!" Zimm said. "She cannot!" Karthich cried, horrified at the thought of being left alone.

"Saa ordered it and Queen Xyledes upheld the order!" Mia was excited for the two.

"I...I, too?" tiny Karthich squeaked. She hardly measured three feet in length.

"Well, yes," Finnegaff told them. "Saa says that both of you accompany us."

The two Mantids joined forearms, bounced in tandem and chittered wildly, which was different from chirping. Mia assumed correctly that it was a Mantid's way of expressing elation. Not that there was any difficulty in the interpretation, considering the circumstance.

"I don't mean to interfere with celebration, Saa forbid!" Finnegaff looked upward. "But would you please not bounce?" Zimm and Karthich ceased bouncing and resorted to hugging each other, as Mantids do.

Finnegaff walked toward Skallagaff, who stood to the side of the dais, away from the celebration. He said nothing, but looked at her with a serious, questioning tone. "Ah, beloved Finnegaff!" She spoke in whispers as she placed her foreleg about his shoulder. "I do know! I couldn't allow dear Karthich to remain here, Saa or otherwise. It would have killed her."

"So it is otherwise," he confirmed. She nodded. "Yet another child added to the Carrying!" He sighed. He looked at the two little Mantids. They were bouncing again. "Why is it," he stroked his beard, "that I seem to get the assignments that I do?"

"I believe it is because you ask for them!" Skallagaff answered.

"Ask?!" He released his beard and his eyes opened wide. "I think not!" He thought but for a moment. "Well, yes. I suppose I do at that! Dear Skallagaff, Saa has blessed you with wisdom!"

"Yes," the Mantid wizard curled both of her antennae, smiling as Mantids do. "I know!"

Early that afternoon, they prepared to depart Rass, and all were anxious to get under way. Karthich and Zimm were so ecstatic that they were of little aid in the preparations. Their mutual condition did benefit them such that they were not bothered by the antics of the duty-bound Belemeriath, who flirted with them right from the start. It seemed so very odd to Mia that the little fairy flirted with any female, regardless of species. But it didn't seem so very odd to him.

They set out for the Bay of Whales, a day to the north of Rass, which they expected to reach by mid afternoon of the next day. With the scent of two female Mantids with them, the wild male Mantids were virtually unseen. The role of guide was fulfilled as both Zimm and Karthich were familiar with the route to the bay.

They walked their horses, and Mia walked beside Finnegaff. "I've not seen two representatives chosen from a single race," he spoke quietly to her. "I know it was not entirely of Saa, yet..." He eyed her suspiciously.

"It was my idea," Mia interrupted with a shrug. "Well, at first. I freaked when Skallagaff scanned me the second time! I felt her Saa, except it didn't feel like it did with Zimm."

"No, it wouldn't. That's because Skallagaff was acting on her own."

"It wasn't Saa?!" She said.

"Well, yes and no. It was Saa, yet it was Skallagaff, you see. She knows Karthich quite well."

"Well!" Mia said. "That really clears things up."

"Hmmm. Yes, it does."

Mia shook her head and changed the subject because in fact, it cleared up nothing. "It felt different when Skallagaff scanned me the second time!"

"Skallagaff did what?"

"You know." She knew he knew.

He asked anyway. "Well, yes. Yamasaa. But what did you call it?"

"Scan. She scanned me."

"Scanned. I like that. Scan. Very clever." He laughed to himself. He shifted his gaze to dead ahead. "Yet I think it not so funny that you chose teenagers again."

"I didn't pick them." Mia said.

"I wasn't talking to you."

"Then who were you talking to?"

"Who do you suppose, dear?"

"Saa?"

"Yes. Well, what did you intend to do about Karthich? Before Skallagaff intervened, that is."

Mia didn't answer.

"Uh, Miagaff, dear?" Finnegaff said.

"Oh!" she said. "Were you talking to me?"

"Well, yes! Who did you think I was talking to?"

Mia shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Finnegaff? Never mind," she breathed. "What did you ask?"

"I asked you what you had intended to do about Kar..."

"Yeah. Okay! I remember!" Mia interrupted, waving him off. She thought of her answer. "Actually, no matter who Saa chose, I was going to try to talk Xyledes into allowing Zimm and Karthich to go with us. I didn't know how, just that I wanted to. When Zimm was picked, it kinda helped."

"Do you know what you said to the queen? Just before she and Riccid left?" He held his forward gaze.

She winced at the question, feeling caught off guard, having not predicted it. "I'm sorry! Look, I know I was a little rude, and I hope I didn't tick her off too bad..."

"No, no. Not that," Finnegaff said. "The part about the jungle."

"Jungle?!" Mia puzzled. She shrugged again. "I pretty much just told her that she belongs here. I kinda thought about it last night, and I hoped I had the chance to tell them off. I'm sorry! I just didn't think I'd be so rude. I guess it really wasn't what I planned on saying. In fact, I don't think it was me doing all the talking."

"It wasn't. You've given a prophecy of Saa." It was the way he said it that caught her.

"Uh...so?"

"So, it creates a pretty curious situation, and creates many questions." He had that tone.

Mia knew that when Finnegaff started talking like he was just then, in mysteries without blurting out the point, it most often meant that things were about to get confusing. "I don't know if I wanna know about this," she mumbled.

"It doesn't matter. I'm gonna tell you anyway." Finnegaff grinned the smile that Mia called his 'grampa smile'. She was compelled to a sort of secure comfort each time he blessed her with it. "Oh, don't worry, dear! It is all good!"

"Okay." She smiled back at him. "Let's hear it. But you have to say 'it's all good', not 'it is all good'!"

Finnegaff knitted his eyebrows. "What?" he frowned in an over dramatized fashion.

"Never mind!"

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Yes. Well, it would seem that you have given a prophecy of Saa!"

"Wizards do that all the time."

"Nope. It's never happened before."

"Yes it has!" Mia protested. Like she was going to tell the head of the wizard's council. "Uh, what about all the proverbs?"

"Those are proverbs, dear, codes by which to live life. Prophesy is the foretelling of things to come."

"What did you mean," Carameth joined the conversation, addressing Mia, "by 'the jungle shall weep?' "

Mia looked puzzled. "I didn't say that!"

"Yes! You did!" Finnegaff proclaimed. "Rather, those words came out of your mouth."

"Wait a second!" She halted the conversation. A light went on. "I know what prophesy means! It means, like, to tell the future!"

"Yes," Finnegaff nodded. "Something like that."

Mia stopped walking. A chill ran down her spine as the gravity of what she'd done set in. Almost without thought, she sat on a fallen log. Her hand went to her mouth. "Oh, Saa!" she whispered. "Man!" She was quiet for a moment as she absorbed, maybe even accepted, what Saa had given her, and the implications of such weight. "All I remember," Mia spoke slowly, trying in vain to recall her exact words, "is saying that Xyledes and Riccid have jobs to do here." She paraphrased. "I told Riccid that someday she'll be the queen, and she needs to get it together."

"That's not precisely what you said," Finnegaff corrected.

"I know. But it's what I meant. I can't remember it exactly." She shook her head. "So what does all this mean? That I can predict the future?"

Finnegaff stroked his beard. "Well, yes and no." Mia really hated that answer. "It means that we need to write down things when Saa speaks through you. It must be done with perfect accuracy, neither adding to nor taking away from your words."

Karthich, who had been silent until then, spoke. "I have my writing book," she buzzed. "I have kept histories for the jail for a long time. Can I write them?"

Finnegaff thought about the offer. He had employed scribes before, and if what he believed to be happening was true, the accounts of Saa that Mia gave would have to be recorded accurately and untainted, the dedication of a scribe unerring. He himself had taken a few moments to note the meeting, at least the highlights, but he detested the job, greatly doubting later translation of his sloppy notes, even by himself. And perhaps there was more to the selection of Karthich to Mia's Stand than first thought. He had, in fact, just then become very certain of this. "How fast can you write legibly?" he asked the little Mantid.

Karthich shrugged as Mantids do, her antennae bouncing once over one small distance. "I am training to be a scribe."

"She writes much faster than I can talk." Zimm answered for her modest friend. She verified when Finnegaff gave her a questioning look. "I help her practice."

Finnegaff called for the party to stop for a breather. They chose a large log to sit on. Strongwind and Carameth unsaddled the horses. Finnegaff asked Karthich to remove her book from her pack to write something. She opened the foot-square deep red leather-bound scribe's book, secured the book in one forearm, her quill in the other, her ink well in still another, stood on three legs and prepared to write.

"What do you want me to write?" she asked.

"Just write down whatever I say." As he finished his sentence, Karthich had clearly written what he spoke, word for word. Finnegaff observed over her shoulder. "That was very good, Karthich. Very good." She wrote that down, too. "You can stop now." That she wrote as well. "Karthich, that is enough. You may stop." She was still writing. "Karthich..." Still she wrote, ending with her own name while twittering the laugh of Mantids. Finnegaff reached down to the quivering Mantid. He snatched the quill pen from her fore claw. "I can tell that you'll fit right in with this stand!" He smiled as he handed the quill back to the little Mantid. "You got the job already! You'll make a fine scribe! Let's not waste ink, shall we?" He smiled and shook his head.

They spent the next hour or more helping Karthich write down everything Mia had said during her final encounter with Queen Xyledes. Karthich had not been there, but between the rest of them who had, they managed to agree on the transcription.

Mia read the passage for the tenth time. "Wow!" she breathed. "I don't remember most of this!"

"Next time it happens you may or may not recall Saa's words." Finnegaff raised one eyebrow. "Prophesy has never happened before, at least not like this. One has nothing from which to draw."

"Great!" Mia sighed with sarcasm. Her reaction caused her to recall Aaramerielle's comments when she had done the same to her elf friend during her early days at Marigaff's Farm. She tried to repair. "Uh, okay. We'll just have to start writing things down, then, won't we?" She smiled sweetly at the old wizard, Karthich, Romessee, and Strongwind. Her eyes stopped at and stayed on Carameth. Her heart warmed as she looked at the striking elf. Finnegaff rolled his eyes.

Ensured that Karthich was aware of the signs given when a wizard called upon Saa, he emphasized that each time Mia invoked the power she must be ready to write. Finnegaff left the importance of the job without wonder.

Dusk came quickly in the rain forest. Everything was wet. Although the rain forest was beautiful by its own right, Mia couldn't wait to journey to a dryer climate. She was constantly uncomfortable, drenched in sweat, and had chafed in places that she would not admit. Even after setting their tent and Strongwind his awning, for surely it would rain that night, she was uncomfortable.

It was noon the next day when the party had reached the Bay of Whales.

"Whales! Whales!" Belemeriath reported. Sure enough, a short distance from shore, three of the great beasts breached the surface, sending spouts yards into the air. They were so close that Mia could hear them exhale. Belemeriath flew like a rocket to the first of them. The whale raised his huge head from the water. Belemeriath circled him.

"What's he doing?" Mia tugged on Finnegaff's sleeve.

"Visiting. He knows them." He had a tight smile. "He knows everybody."

"Right." Mia laughed. "Like whales can talk!" She laughed. The rest of Mia's Stand was not laughing.

"What?" she said, shaking her head. It then dawned on her that the world of Morrah contained many differences from her own. "They can talk?!"

"Well, yes," Finnegaff stated. "Naturally!"

"Oh!" Mia slapped her thigh. "So, I suppose they can."

Belemeriath sped back to shore and hovered amongst the company. "That was my friend, Crasher. But that's not his real name! His real name is Crasher of the Waves that Break in the Minimus Ocean and Love to Breach their Shining Light, as Coming from a Depth that Many..."

Finnegaff cut him off with a raised hand and an interruption. "We don't have need to hear the whole name, friend fairy! Whales," he told Mia, "have names many times longer than their great size. They pride themselves on it. I never quite understood what drives them to do this."

"Will we be able to talk to them?" Mia was excited.

"Probably. If we can find a boat!" Finnegaff held a hand across his brow to shade the noonday sun as he peered down the rock-dotted sandy beach. Three-foot waves broke along the softly curving mile or so sandy shoreline that bent out of their line of vision where the beach made a point out into the sea.

"We're gonna take a boat across the bay?" Mia said. "What about the Land of Lost Memories? Don't we have to go back through?"

"No. We'll sail around it. The other side of the bay is Awlland, and the Plains of the Great Beasts."

Strongwind piped up. "Then we be not returning as we came." He stroked his beard, head tipped back. "Tell us, then, good wizard, why did we be nearly killed in the Land of Lost Memories, when we might have sailed about it?" Each member of the party caught on. They awaited the good wizard's answer.

Finnegaff pushed his hat back on his head when he spoke. "Because, companions, Saa has predestined our route. It's not my choice." Which was most factual. "Yes. Well," he squinted upward; "it's so directed that it hadn't even occurred to me to circumvent the Land of Lost Memories." All members of the party looked him in the eye, and Finnegaff acknowledged them one at a time.

"We're all safe and sound!" He held his hands palms up. He then crossed his arms. "Karthich, dear. Would you please scribe." It was not a question. In a flash the little Mantid had her book in one claw, pen in her other claw and ink in the third, which, as everyone knows, is a feat that few other intelligent races are capable of performing. "It's not the kind of thing one questions." Karthich wrote. All listened to the now authoritative wizard, who did on occasion find himself in story telling moods. "For the Carrying of the Book of Life to pass through the Land of Lost Memories is important to Saa, and why? We have theories, but nothing real solid. If we skipped parts of the Carrying, perhaps nothing would happened. But most likely something would, because whatever is ordained by Saa is done for our good, and once tarnished, the tarnish spreads. This tarnish happens a lot; that's why the Wizard's Council was formed. But to directives where the Book of Life is concerned is big compared to the events we contend with daily, even gargantuan. Some directive may seem trivial at the time, but will affect things down the road, and the results might be more than what we are capable of handling.

"The directives of Saa for the Carrying of the Book of Life are simple: It must be carried by the outworlder Carrier through each country of Morrah. The Reading can only take place at the Hall of the Giants and only after the elapse of four hundred years or more since the last Reading. The Giants are then charged the Book's keep until the next outworlder is summoned, four hundred years later. It's how the cycle works. These are the directives of Saa for the Carrying of the Book of Life. Oh! And one representative from each of the races has to be selected by the Carrier along the way, and the same present at the Reading of the Book of Life. "

Romessee became involved in the conversation. "But what do those directives have to do with the Land?" she asked, referring to the Land of Lost Memories.

"Ah!" Finnegaff raised a finger into the air. "I've studied this for centuries," he shot a glance in Karthich's direction to make sure she was writing, "but I have few facts. Only theories. I, myself, believe the Book of Life passing through said, uh, Land," he motioned to Romessee, adopting the shortened version of the name, "must in some way at some point be important to the Carrying. It's as if the fogs are indeed elemental to the Carrying. That's what I believe, because the fogs are ancient, although how so, it's not known. There are those who believe fogs to have existed even before the elves of old." He paused for dramatic effect, and for no other purpose. "Saa does not always give reason, for the reason is not to be given."

"What mean you by this?" Strongwind asked.

"I cannot say," Finnegaff told his manhorse friend.

"Mean you that you are without liberty to say, or mean you..."

"Don't even go there!" Mia interjected, holding a hand in the air, palm out. "Don't even!"

Finnegaff, aided by members of the stand, recounted the crossing of the Land of Lost Memories. Karthich scribed unerringly. By the finish of the old wizard's dissertations, Karthich had written four full pages, front and back. It could be seen, even if one was not a Mantid, that Karthich was very proud of her position. She was diligent, and she kept her charge well.

Mia's Stand took advantage of the warm Bay of Whales by removing boots and playing in the waves for a time. Mia, Carameth, Belemeriath, Strongwind and Romessee took right to the sea; Zimm and Karthich were a bit reluctant for, as everyone knows, Mantids have an aversion to swimming. But more so than this distaste for water, the two little Mantids harbored a deep uncertainty regarding their acceptance by the members of Mia's Stand. They had never been included in group escapades, most certainly never with opened-arm welcome from peers! But soon they were all playing in the salty bay, even Finnegaff for a short while. They learned that Strongwind could make a horrendous splash. Carameth allowed Mia to tackle him at one point. The moment soaked them with both seawater and feelings that they would keep for a long, long time.

Soon Finnegaff indicated their need for departure. All solemnly gathered their belongings as the moments slipped away into sweet, fond memory. Zimm told them there was a town, a fishing village a few leagues up the coast. From there the services of a ferry might be enlisted. The group followed the navigable shoreline. Strongwind in particular appreciated the ease of travel on this particular terrain, for with his bulk, rain forests proved to be difficult to traverse.

The sun was soon to set over the rain forest when they came within sight of the tiny village. Hardly a village it was, comprised only of old, weathered shacks with enough space between them that it might be called rural in some lands. Two streets paralleled the shoreline with shanties, some being houses, others, shops. The structures numbered less than fifty. Most of the buildings were Mantid, but several were human. As they walked the street nearest the shore, little heed was paid them except for friendly 'great days' or 'hello, neighbors'. Boats that were moored at the several small wooden docks were busy with fisherman mending nets that hung on long poles. Gulls laughed as they begged scraps. A warm, salty wind, gaining in intensity, blew in from the bay. Distant black, billowy cumulus clouds loomed on the eastern horizon, promising the night's rain.

They stopped at an old, tired inn bearing a hanging shingle, a worn, weathered wooden sign with a red over black picture of a boat with an exaggerated crow's nest. A silly cartoon-like sailor leaned from the crow's nest in impossible balance while swinging a mug. The words 'The Crow's Nest' were neatly lettered on the bottom of the sign. Finnegaff went inside while the others waited. Soon he returned with rights to rooms for the evening. Strongwind, much to his delight, was offered the stable on the side of the building, more suitable for his stature and, of course, in the good company of the stand's horses. They set their belongings in their quarters, then went about the task of locating the ferryman, which was not so difficult in such a small town.

The ferry was a well-kept boat sixty feet in length boasting three masts with a large, flat deck. She operated as a cargo vessel as well as a ferry, and shared the moor with no other craft. A small, two room board-sided gray shanty that housed the Captain, owner and operator of the ferry, was stationed at the foot of the dock. A thin, elderly man was whittling, seated in a rocking chair with his bare feet up on the railing of the wooden-planked covered porch. His baggy, light blue breeches frayed at the ends, exposing his callused bare feet. His shirt, off white, was the closest thing to a tee shirt Mia had seen so far in Morrah. He didn't even raise his head as they approached.

Chapter 29

"Whittles be of the ivory of the great walrus from the North Sea, in the straits." He spoke in a gravelly voice. He regarded his handy work, jutted his stubby, gray bearded chin forward and held it aloft for all to see. The snow-white tusk was carved into a figure of a bird of some sort perched upon a branch with a fish in its mouth that was just opening its wings for flight. His work was extravagant, clean, and highly detailed. He handed it to Finnegaff, who took the delicate figurine in his hands and inspected it closely. Mia and Romessee looked over his shoulder at the marvel. The little man was truly an artist.

"Beautiful, Captain Sheremeth," he nodded. Finnegaff had called the sailor by name; he evidently knew him.

The salty Captain Sheremeth's twinkling deep brown eyes contrasted against his ruddy complexion. He looked at the wizard, then set aside his corncob pipe. "Dear Finnegaff! How long has it been?"

Finnegaff smiled broadly as the captain stood and exchanged forearm grips with him. Both smiled and looked at one another a moment. "A long time, dear brother! A long time! The last was in Centauria, in Port Goldring!"

"Aye, mate. It was, wasn't it?" Sheremeth laughed lightly.

"How is it that you're here on the other side of the continent?" Finnegaff inquired of his old friend.

"Aye, it were the spellbinding eyes of the fair Heretielle that moved me to here, near her homeland of the Plains." He appeared in deep thought.

"I do know Heretielle and the effects she has on you." Finnegaff took on a serious look, having sensed the problem. "She's..." he stopped, knowing the answer.

"Aye, dear brother. Stricken and taken by the wetlung, some six months back." The captain held intense gaze.

"I'm sorry. Truly she was a delight."

"That she was, friend. That she was." He raised his voice. "Her legacy is me ship," he held his hand out toward the boat in introduction, "christened 'Lady Heretielle'. She's the best. Aye, the best." Sure as were his words, there across the stern of the ship was written 'Lady Heretielle'.

"She looks sound and worthy," Finnegaff nodded in agreement, "As was her namesake."

"What brings you east, old conjurer?" Captain Sheremeth changed the subject, yet certainly not to avert the sentimental path down which it led, for as everyone knows, sailors are indeed prone to reminisce, as they are a hopelessly sentimental lot. And Captain Sheremeth was no exception.

"We Carry the Book, and wish to enlist the Lady Heretielle to the Plains."

The captain stood with knife in hand. Upon the first viewing he had of Mia's Stand, he pointed the knife directly at Mia. "It be her!" He squinted one eye as he aimed down the length of the knife. "That's your Carrier, right there!" Mia was a bit startled by the rapidity of Captain Sheremeth's insight. Half crouched over, Sheremeth turned to Finnegaff. "What in Saa be you doing with this school o' fry?" He motioned toward the party in general. He shook his head. "My dear wizard, I used to think you slow. Now I think it is that you don't learn too well." He laughed at Finnegaff.

Finnegaff answered with a big smile. "It was not I, briny sailor!"

"Yes, yes. Saa. I know. I know." His laugh passed. "We sail at dawn. The sea be a little rough right now." Without turning to face it, he motioned toward the windy, dark, white capped bay behind him. "So! Where be you and your fine crew staying? Crow's Nest?" An easy guess, as it was the only inn designed for humans within thirty miles. Finnegaff nodded. "I'll close her up, then." Captain Sheremeth reached inside the opened door of his shanty to remove a rubber hat. He placed it on his head, then closed the door. He took up his pipe, then for the first time stood tall. Well, straight anyway, as he was not more than Mia's own height. "It be well known in these salty parts that it be tradition to show honor to any wizard that calls!" Mia was nearly shocked. Nearly. Great! she thought. Not him, too!

The captain, stooped over, fists clenched before him, bowlegged, took off through the rapidly growing dark in the direction of the Crow's Nest. He moved surprisingly fast for his peculiar rocking gait. He had taken no more than ten steps when he stopped.

"C'mon!" he motioned. "That storm'll be here in no time! You wanna be wet fer the rest o' the night?" With that, he spun about and headed down the lane. The group hurried to catch up. Except Finnegaff, who stood for a moment, watching Mia's Stand respond to the authoritative Captain Sheremeth. He took up Lebethtro Larra, straightened his back and stepped lively.

It was only moments after their arrival at the Crow's Nest that the torrential downpour began. The wind howled outside as the rain fell in sheets. The barroom was dry, brightly lit, full with those wanting to make a social event of the storm. Strongwind had opted for the stables, thus in the good company of horses; he was not one to show honor to tradition in the manner of wizards. Belemeriath had found a group of young ladies. Naturally, Mia thought. He was pouring on the charm to the giggling girls. The rest made themselves comfortable at a large table as the captain ordered ale for all. Crab legs, clams and other seafood accompanied potatoes with another vegetable something, as Mia called it. Large trays and bowls of such were set about the table for all to share.

"...So there I be, across this bay and out to sea." The captain had professed to be a teller of tall tales. The group took advantage of his witty craft and urged sea stories from the more than willing Captain Sheremeth. Even the locals paid attention; they, too, found delight in his amusing tales, even many times over. "The storm o' 3142 made this one look like a little squall, I tell you." He puffed on the long-stemmed corncob pipe. As he spoke, to each member of his audience in turn did he point the stem of the pipe. He leaned forward, hand on knee, seated on a low three-legged stool of raw pine. He squinted, winked and nodded as he told his story; he gestured with his hands and arms; he held out the vowel sounds of certain words when embellishing a point. His showman's mannerism exaggerated all the more as he got deeper and deeper into his tale.

"Lightning, big lightning, struck me ship, and the mainsail mast did split. She were useless. The mainsail be gone, and it took the rest o' me sails with it on the way down. And as I said before, the nets hung up the rudder. So there we be, out at sea. We be dead in the water. We be at the mercy of the mighty Bridesmaid Norielle! So I tie this rope around me waist, the other end to the bow and jumps overboard. Head first, too! Swim I did beneath the boat, and with me trusty knife, freed the rudder of her confines!"

Romessee was on her fourth ale. She was kneeling on the floor next to the charming old sailor with a forearm perched on his shoulder. Her head was rested on her arm, her face not six inches from his. She wore a silly grin. "But why tie the rope to the bow? The rudder is at the stern!"

"Aha!" He raised his mug into the air. He exaggerated each word with flamboyant motions. "As I say, there we were, dead in the water. With the rope about me waist, I swim past the ship, I did! And I did swim as I've never before, and in the storm, mind you!," he wound it up with a grand finish, "towed the boat off the high seas to the safety of this very bay!"

Romessee laughed at him. "You want me to believe that?" she giggled.

"Aye, fair one! I docked 'er right there," he motioned out the window toward the wharf. He looked at her sideways. "Well, there were a storm o' 3142, you know!" Mia, seated on the floor on the other side of Romessee, was greatly enjoying all of it. She thought, half of her second ale gone, that this is what you do if you live in a place where there's no such thing as television.

Belemeriath had buzzed in to catch the last of the story. "No! No! That's not what happened! I was there! The ship was..."

"Me little fairy friend!" The captain raised his voice in interruption. "Would love to have a bit of tarrowroot to put in me pipe. Don't think you'd be kind enough to oblige?" He puffed once on the pipe.

"Tarrowroot!" Belemeriath flew in short upward arcs. "I know where there's tarrowroot!" And with that, the little fairy flew full speed toward what he believed to be an open window, which, considering that a storm raged outside, was in fact closed. He hit the glass with a loud clank! and fell to the sill. Immediately he took to flight again, flew straight up, hovered but for a split second and eyed a crack in a board above the window. There was no measurable time between when he twinkled into a pinpoint of light and shot through the small crack in the board, out into the storm in search of tarrowroot, and likely other fairies to share it with.

They told stories until late in the night. Mia had but two ales all evening, knowing she did not necessarily wish to indulge the way others sometimes did. Carameth had some, too. Mia thought he was normally very quiet. With a few ales in the elf, he absolutely refused to talk, choosing to observe with the most ridiculous of expressions painted on his face. Romessee certainly had her fill, but Zimm and Karthich did not drink ale. They took in its stead a clear iced liquid that smelled like tar to Mia but most definitely impaired a Mantid. It was late when they turned in. Finnegaff shared a room with Carameth, the rest in the larger of the apartments.

The old innkeeper walked the hall shortly before the coming of the dawn and hammered the walls and doors with his fist. "Rise, ye landlubbers!" he called in a loud, deep voice seeming unfit to his small frame. Pound and yell he did, as this practice was standard for the Crow's Nest Inn, where the sailors it boarded required early rising that they might sail at dawn. Mia startled, if a little hazy, to awake. It took a moment to come to her exactly what the noise was all about. Soon she remembered that they had a ship to set sail. She was excited about sailing. She had never been to sea, and was looking forward to the experience. She rose and quickly changed into fresher garb. Romessee was already up, out in the hallway, having been assigned final watch. Mia took up Dielielle and her pack and ran in to the Mumbwe when she opened the door to their room.

"Great day, Miagaff!" She smiled at the ratty hairdo Mia adorned. Mia squinted as she cradled Dielielle in the arm that held the pack. She removed her hairbrush from the side pocket. The hairbrush stopped dead in mid stroke as she tried to yank it through her tangled hair. Romessee took the brush and calmly began to brush out her friend's locks. Mia fell against the door jam.

"They'll be serving breakfast soon. I'm sure they'll have motherberries!" They looked at each other. For the first time that morning Mia looked closely at the Mumbwe. She looked worse than Mia felt!

Mia didn't have the intensity of after effect that she had with her other experience with the drink, though definitely was not her normal self. "You look sick," she told Romessee.

"I feel sick!" she replied. "But you look worse than I do!"

"No, I don't. I can't. No way." They laughed, but shortly, as it caused them pain.

The rest were in the barroom, where breakfast was being put out. They all appeared spent, with the exception of Finnegaff and the captain, who had come to join them. How Finnegaff managed to drink like he did only to function so well the next day even with motherberries was beyond Mia.

The innkeeper was a marvelous cook, having prepared a breakfast of great variety for his inn's guests. Included were motherberries, which Mia and Romessee, (and Carameth, who appeared as well off as they), first indulged. Breakfast was mostly quiet but for Captain Sheremeth's report on prevailing winds and the upcoming weather, all basically forecast from the degree of pain in his shoulder.

The warm rain was a fine drizzle, which lightened up as they trudged their way through the mud and puddles to the wharf that moored the Lady Heretielle. The ship rocked gently with the dying waves, bumping against the leather-bound pylons that made up the pier with a quiet thunk. Strongwind was already there, horses packed, ready to board. If any one of them wanted to get out of Mantadia, it was Strongwind. Though the Mantid folk of the small village were not as harsh toward him as those in Rass were, they still had the smell of prejudice.

A crew of four had begun hoisting a sail when Strongwind came to their aid. By himself, the Centaur lifted the sail to full mast in half the time the crew of four could have. Captain Sheremeth remarked to his crew that they shake a leg, as he could replace them all with a single manhorse. They ignored him. Finnegaff, Mia and Carameth were instructed to remove their shoes, as decks were best walked barefoot. Their gear, along with the horses, was stowed below. The breeze was light as they pulled off the dock. Across the Bay of Whales they tacked, into the wind at a smooth, gentle speed. They all sat on the deck at the helm with Captain Sheremeth as they sailed into the sunrise.

Several whales had sighted them and pulled along side. The lead whale raised his head above the waves. "Ahoy, Captain Sheremeth! Great Day!" he lulled in his deep whale voice. Mia sat on the deck, eyes wide, her mouth hanging open.

The captain returned the greeting. "Great day, king o' the sea!"

"Lord Finnegaff! It has been long!" Mia could see the whale's huge eye move in its socket to look to the wizard.

"King Breachmaster of the North Seas who Travels Far, Kindness to all Life, Warder to the Fishes!" Finnegaff used the mighty whale's shortened name. "Yes, it has! How is your kingdom?"

"We avoid the Straits of Many Dreams, for the waters there are tainted."

"Yes! That they are!" Finnegaff agreed.

"Scheramm is good to us, despite. The krill go north in abundance; my herd has plenty."

"You do a fine job, King Breachmaster."

"I do thank you, Lord Finnegaff. What brings you to sail," he was not asking, "is the Carrying of the Book of Life. Saa has deemed it so, and sent us to you."

"You are correct, my great friend!" Finnegaff stood, hands clasped before him. "This," he motioned to Mia, "is Miagaff, the Eighth carrier of the Book of Life."

"Miagaff," the huge animal spoke her name! "An honor, Carrier!" With one slow, mighty flip of his tail, he raised slightly from the sea in what was a bow, if one were a whale. "Such short names man has! I have never quite understood this."

"It's easy to remember." She could think of nothing else to say, taken aback, having never even witnessed a whale up close, let alone carried on a conversation with one. His size alone was hard to absorb, the graceful majesty of his fluid dynamics through the waters beyond description.

"Captain. My herd would tow the Lady Heretielle."

In his many years at sea, the old sailor had seldom received such an offer from the cetaceans. As it was for the Centaurs, the whales did not consider themselves beasts of burden, even less so did their good friend Captain Sheremeth. He did, however, know the high degree of honor the whales had for the Carrying of the Book of Life, so wisely he held this honor to heart. "Aye, dear friend, by Saa you shall!"

"All hands on deck!" the captain yelled at his crew, who had taken to lounging on the aft deck, playing a dice game of sorts. They sprang to life with the sound of his command.

"Prepare the ropes! The whales be towin' us!" The crew, knowing that this was nearly unheard of (outside of Sheremeth's tall tales, of course) stood unmoving, astounded at the order. "Step up, swabs!"

"Aye, captain!" one of them said; yet they hesitated. "How do we..."

"Take this," Captain Sheremeth motioned to the wheel of the ship to Carameth, who happened to be standing next to him at the time.

"Me?" Carameth stuck his thumb in his chest. "I don't know how to..."

"Lad," the captain sighed and tilted his head in mock frustration. He firmly grabbed both of Carameth's wrists and placed the elf's hands on the ship's wheel. "Hold 'er steady. That's it!" He slapped Carameth on the back. "Now ye be a sailor, mate!" With that little instruction, he hobbled off with his crew to give instruction on how to harness a whale, leaving a wide-eyed, very stiff elf to steer his ship. The four girls, Mia, Romessee, Zimm and Karthich giggled at him. He paid them no heed, for his eyes were fearfully glued to the sea ahead.

The sails lowered. Strongwind eagerly helped. He enjoyed the sailor work, yet had never before been at sea. A thick rope was tied into knots known but to seafarers. A loop was fashioned to girdle the great whale.

Mia had an idea. She had heard of people from her home planet that had opportunity to swim with whales. She wondered if the king of the sea would allow such.

"King Breacher!" She yelled at the whale. He turned his giant eye to her.

"Yes, honored Carrier?"

"Where I come from, sometimes, well, people sometimes swim with whales..."

"It is often we do so. We find the experience gratifying." The whale had as much as invited her! She looked at the other girls. Romessee nodded her head rapidly and bit one of her fingers. The Mantids shook their heads and slightly recoiled, for, as it is well known, Mantids do not swim.

"Let's go, Rom! Let's go swim with them!" She sprang to her feet and yanked Romessee to a standing position.

"Do you not think we should..." she motioned with her head toward Finnegaff, who was helping with the ropes.

"No!" she said. "He might say no! C'mon!" Romessee looked at the unsuspecting crew, then to Mia's anxious face. She shrugged her shoulders. "Why not?" With that, the two girls dove overboard, hand in hand, feet first into the deep blue of the Bay of Whales.

Chapter 30

By this time the boat had glided to a halt in preparation to tether the whale to the ship. All heard the splash. "Man overboard!" cried one of the crew. The sailors abandoned their tasks as they ran to where the two had jumped.

Breachmaster sounded and back swam but a single gigantic stroke as he came up underneath the girls, taking them on his back. They were both lying prone when the whale surfaced. They carefully stood on the whale's back. They laughed uncontrollably and slipped and fell and stood and fell and slipped, though the whale's skin really was not slippery.

Finnegaff yelled from the rail. "What in Saa are you two doing?" They were laughing too hard to respond. "Miagaff! Romessee!" he hollered. Mia waved. Finnegaff slapped his hand on his forehead.

"They be safer upon Breacher's back than aboard me own Heretielle," the captain remarked to the wizard, not taking his smile or his eyes from the adventurous girls. "Aye, to be young!" He then looked at Finnegaff. "Leave them be, conjurer." Finnegaff pointed at the girls on the back of the huge animal, who now took a lead on the ship. His mouth silently hung open. "Y've never rode a whale?" He knew that Finnegaff had; he was there when it happened.

"Well, yes. But I, uh, I..."

Sheremeth slapped him on the back, held his hand there and gripped his opposite shoulder. He tapped the corn cob pipe stem to Finnegaff's chest. "And what did ye feel?"

Finnegaff's opened mouth metamorphosed into a smile as he truly recalled. He nodded, saying not a word. "Besides," Sheremeth continued, closing one eye tightly as he spoke, "I was nay the one who picked a flock of giggly lasses for such a journey!"

"You may retract your statement, you salty old man, as you know...hey! Return me, scoundrel!" But it was too late.

Captain Sheremeth laughed, corncob pipe clamped between his molars. "Hee hee hee hee hee!" he sang in a high voice as his bow legged, fist clenched gait took him swiftly across the slowly rocking deck to supervise his crew in setting the towrope.

With Mia and Romessee's aid, the sailors had secured the rope to the king of the sea. King Breachmaster began the honored towing with Mia and Romessee on his back. They posed on one foot, danced, and yelled at the people on board. Breachmaster would dive just enough to allow a few inches of water to go over his back, not enough to dismount the girls, yet enough to fill his blow hole to shower them. The first time he executed this maneuver, the two screamed and laughed, surprised by the enormity of the airborne water.

Belemeriath had appeared out of nowhere. He zoomed over the waves to catch up with his friends. "Mia! Romessee!" He buzzed to the whale riders. "Watch this!" When he was sure they were both watching, he plunged into the water and disappeared from sight. In a few seconds one of the other whales surfaced where he had submerged. The whale spouted his blow hole, Belemeriath was within the spray, whooping and hollering as he was shot many feet into the air. Mia and Romessee applauded. Belemeriath proudly took his bows.

Each hour or so the whales would take turns towing the Lady Heretielle, sharing in what, if one were a Morran whale, was a great honor. It was thus the two friends Mia and Romessee, as Mia had allowed for the Mumbwe to cross the 'casual acquaintance to real friend' bridge, spent most of the afternoon: riding on various whale's backs. Both received a good case of sunburn from the reflecting water. Finnegaff had to insist that Mia and Romessee dismount King Breacher, who was the first and the last in turn for towing the Lady Heretielle.

Soon the dark, sandy, rock-free shores of the Plains of the Great Beasts came in to view. The land was so flat that it was hardly distinguishable from the ocean. Captain Sheremeth claimed that the beach they approached was swampland on the opposite side. He had the whale tow them westward, past the swamp, in the direction Mia's Stand was going, though Mia could see no difference in the landscape. It did in fact all appear identical to her. She was going to say something, but reconsidered, as Sheremeth probably knew what he was doing. He was, after all, Captain Sheremeth, quick with word and sharp of mind. She knew that if she confronted him on any matter without first thinking about what she was asking, she would most likely end up on the embarrassing side of the conversation.

Leagues passed. It was late evening when they pulled into the wharf of a small settlement, ten or twelve houses clumped together on the plain. Having sighted the ship, two men approached along the wharf with lanterns and hung them on poles attached to the pillars. Sheremeth's able crew took over, expertly sailing the craft to the obvious (as it was the only) place to dock, threw ropes to the men on shore, and in a short time the Lady Heretielle was securely moored. Gangplanks were set in place as the crew and all took to land.

Sheremeth had elected to stay with his ship and bid Mia's Stand farewells from there. They stood at the base of the gangplank. "Old conjurer," Sheremeth gripped wrists with Finnegaff, "It be grand seein' you!" They released and smiled in mutual admiration. "Good luck, me ladies," he winked at Mia, Romessee, Zimm and Karthich, who stood in a small group. He aimed his long corncob pipe stem at Carameth. "Fare thee well, friend elf, and give me best to yer mother! Strongwind, ye have a job as mate any time on me ship. Besides, ye talk right for the job!" They laughed with him. On that seemingly final note, Captain Sheremeth, pipe between teeth clenched behind opened lips, fists at his side and bowlegged, hobbled up the gangplank to his ship. Half way up the plank he stopped, yet he did not turn to face them.

Mia felt the warm rush of Saa within her; not the hard, fast rush like some of the other times. This flow of Saa was gentle, if not a bit intoxicating. She staggered and caught her balance on Romessee's shoulder.

"Karthich..." Finnegaff motioned to the dainty Mantid to ready her scribe's book. To his pleasing, he saw that she already had it opened.

"Captain Sheremegaff!" Mia voice was almost sweet, contrasted only by a tone of authority. She recognized this type of Saa to be a prophesy, and this time was fully aware of what she was saying. She raised her eyebrows in surprise for her own placement of the suffix on Sheremeth's name, for now, by the grace of Saa, she knew him to be a wizard.

The captain slowly turned to face her. "Speak, Carrier!"

"Thanks for letting us ride the whales!" she grinned. He jerked back. It was not what he had expected, as suspect he had. She went on. "For as the whales rule the sea, so does the sun rule the day. If I could take them to the Glen of Giants with me, this I would do, for they are giants themselves in size and in Saa. Saa is great in water as in wind and rock, and when giants swim with giants, Saa will be naught except for them both. Heed, and take care the whales, Captain Sheremegaff!"

He took his corncob pipe in hand. Smiling from the side of his mouth, he pointed the stem of the pipe at her. "It be me pleasure, lass!" He spun on a dime and resumed his odd gait, hobbled up the gangplank and boarded the Lady Heretielle. He disappeared behind the guardrail and never looked back.

It was Mia who broke the silence. "I remember all of it this time!" she exclaimed. Finnegaff took the scribe's book from Karthich and studied her writing of Mia's second prophecy. He spoke while he read.

"Giants swim with giants," he said. "What's that supposed mean?"

Mia was walking beside him. "How should I know?" she said.

He waved her off with one arm without removing his eyes from the book. He strained to see in the dim light. "No, no. I wasn't asking. But Mia. Romessee. This I gotta ask." He closed the book. Here it comes, Mia thought. She had been thinking about how to answer what Finnegaff would inevitably ask. She had undergone frequent, detailed instruction and drills at Marigaff's Farm for learning the thought process of predicting questions and the preparedness to answer them well. He kept his eyes on the road. "What prompted you to jump overboard?"

Mia didn't answer at first, for she knew that to do so would reveal her foresight. She shrugged the shoulder that Dielielle was resting upon. "It had to happen." She gave an intentionally evasive answer and for effect, also maintained her view of the road.

Finnegaff raised a hand. He opened his mouth to speak, forefinger pointed upward. He closed his mouth, then lowered his arm and sighed.

"Ye be the one who picked 'em, brother! Heee Heee Heeeeeeee!" Captain Sheremeth's voice came from the ship. Mia turned to look for him. Her eyes scanned the ship, but he was nowhere to be seen. Finnegaff didn't even bother to turn to look for the captain.

"Why does he keep calling you brother?" Mia asked, thinking that perhaps Finnegaff belonged to the same organization as the captain, or maybe it was something wizards do.

"Because," Finnegaff said, "Sheremeth is my brother."

"Brother brother?!" she stabbed a finger at the ground.

"Well, yes. Why else would I call him that?"

"I thought that maybe, you know...." Finnegaff waited patiently for the girl to stammer. "Some people call each other brother, but they're not really related."

Finnegaff had a puzzled look. "Why would they do that?"

"I dunno. I guess because they feel close, like brothers."

"But what about honor to family?" Finnegaff reminded her.

"I don't know!" She threw her arms in the air. "Forget it. Just forget it." She sighed deeply. "Hey!" She changed subjects again. "He's a wizard!"

"Yes, he is! He has been for a long time."

"Where's his hat and staff?" she asked.

"He only wears his hat when he's out to sea," Finnegaff explained. "He was wearing it today. And he never sets his staff aside!" He smiled at her.

There was a moment of silence as Finnegaff allowed his audience to absorb his little riddle. Romessee caught on first. "His pipe is his staff?"

Finnegaff stooped, squinted an eye, mocking Sheremeth. "Aye, it be the finest staff ever to sail the seas!" The imitation was perfect! They were, after all, brothers. Mia had learned that sometimes asking questions raised more questions than there originally were. Finnegaff had created more murk for Mia than he had cleared, thus giving her yet more to think about. Much, she knew, to his own design.

They arrived at the Durma's Point Inn. Mia assumed the settlement was Durma's Point, since that was the name of the inn, and indeed it was. The inn was run by a large, jolly, aging man who ironically was named Durma, who happened to own all but one of the buildings along Durma Road. Durma Road ran along the beach, which was known as Durma's Beach.

The four girls took one of the two rooms they secured, the others, the second room. Strongwind, as usual, stayed in the stables with the horses. They were exhausted after the long day, and went straight to their bunks after saying their good-nights. Finnegaff, however, elected to show honor to the tradition of 'being towed by whales' or 'being towed by whales to Durma's Point' or something similarly fabricated. Mia didn't quite catch which one it was; she believed that Finnegaff didn't, either. He did, however, quite easily get the idea of honor to tradition across to the crew of the Lady Heretielle, for, as it is well known, sailors are a superstitious lot. They believe it to be bad luck to not show honor to tradition when offered.

Mia talked with her companions of the day's events. Soon they were asleep. Mia, despite the soft, warm residue left her by Saa, was a bit restless. With effort, she fell into a dreamy sort of slumber.

She dreamed she was the caretaker of a particular child. She was in a park, of sorts: grassy, a small brook, trees, warm breeze in the midday sun that gave one a feeling of serenity. A girl of perhaps two years of age played on the nearby dirt path, using a short stick to chase tiny purple butterflies that nearly matched the color of her summery dress. Her undeveloped coordination was amusing to Mia. Mia sat on a very light pink blanket that was spread out on a sunny part of the ground and leaned back on outstretched arms,. She felt a fondness, even a love for the nameless child.

Soon the child's awkwardness got the best of her. She fell face first onto the dirt path. For a second the little girl gasped in surprise, then let out an alarming, ear piercing scream. She burst into tears. Mia sprang to her feet and ran to the child's aid, took up the crying child and carried her to the pink blanket, sat with the little girl and held her close. The child continued crying. Mia spoke softly to her and tried to look at her boo-boo. The toddler only rejected her sympathy. She offered her a drink. It was not consoling. She tried to rock her. The child squirmed free, still crying hard tears. She held her arms up as if wanting to be picked up, yet had just wanted to be put down. As if Mia knew exactly what the girl wanted, she removed the Book of Life from around her neck. She handed it to the little girl, her heart full of the joy of comforting a beloved toddler. As soon as the little girl took the Book, she stopped crying. She held the Book with both hands and gave Mia a heart-warming, sweet smile. The child giggled and placed the edge of the Book in her mouth, which, as everyone knows, is what two year olds do with most anything they pick up. The girl was jumping up and down, laughing, biting the Book. Mia's heart was warm and light and contented.

She bolted awake in a hot sweat. She groped for the Book of Life. It was still there. Her heart raced. This, she thought, is too weird. She would tell Finnegaff about the frightening implications of the dreams she'd been having the first opportunity she had. She slept poorly, fearful of recurrence of the dream, yet when she did finally fall into sleep, she slept deep and without dream. At least without any of those dreams.

The big, orange-red early morning sun to the right side of Mia's northbound stand quickly heated the air. Much to her delight, the weather was without the persistent rain they had been subjected to on the opposite side of the bay. Living green against deep blue dominated ground and sky. A warm wind blew from the east, making soft waves in the vast, flat fields of the Plains of the Great Beasts. The entirety of the stand decided to walk for a while, horses following close behind.

Mia walked with Finnegaff. "I was like, a babysitter, or a big sister, maybe. The cute little girl fell, and..." Mia told Finnegaff about her dreams in a voice loud enough for all to hear, for she knew to not withhold information such as this from the stand, as one could never tell how vital an otherwise innocent incident might prove to be, and who may hold the key to unraveling a mystery.

"Allow me," Finnegaff interjected. "The mother, the old hag, and the cute girl all wore purple dresses." Mia had not mentioned this.

"Yes! That's right! How did you know that?"

"She always wears a purple dress, the same one."

"She?!" Romessee questioned.

"And though it might not have appeared the same each time, I assure you it was indeed the same dress." Finnegaff stated. "You see, dear, it was the dark sorceress that visited your dreams."

She halted. All stopped with her. "No!" She shook her head. Her breathing increased. "No! I, I gave her, each time, I just gave her the Book of Life! And I felt happy about it! I was like, cool about it!"

"It was only a dream, dear!" Finnegaff placed a hand on her shoulder.

"But it felt so real!"

"Well, yes. She wants it to feel real. She's trying to soften you."

"She's not softening me any more!" Mia spat.

He took the other shoulder as well and turned her to face him. He locked wise, blue eyes on hers. "No! For now we know. We can use this against her! I know what she's up to. She'll return to your dreams, and when she does..." Finnegaff explained to her what course of action to take upon her next dream visit with Eringaff, and what she could expect when she executed the plan.

During the conversation, Mia felt that presence again, something from above, a good, a warmth. She looked to the deep blue mid-morning skies and saw what she had seen at other times she'd had this feeling: nothing. She returned to Finnegaff. He nodded once to her. "Yes," he then looked up to the sky. "I know. It seems we are being followed."

"Followed by what?"

"You don't know?" Finnegaff smiled at her, and she shook her head. The horses had caught up to them. The wizard mounted Grinnolle. All followed suit. "I guess you wouldn't. Not 'till after the Reading. Anyway, I can't say. Let's put some of Morrah behind us."

"That's not fair of you, good wizard!" the Mantid remarked.

"Do you mean you won't say, or you can't say?" Romessee pressed.

"Don't even!" Mia said.

"What I mean is," he said as he lit his pipe with a flame emitted from the tip of the right ear of his steed, "that far be it from me to spoil a surpr...Whoooaaaaaaa!" He held on tight, for in mid-sentence, Grinnolle caught sight of his burning right ear. Even though the horse was a very tolerant animal (as was required of any horse that bore Finnegaff), he most definitely drew the line at being set afire, even if the fire were painless. He reared, whinnied in fear, and bolted full speed across the knee-high grass. Finnegaff held on and yelled for the horse to stop. Strongwind took chase. Belemeriath gave chase as well, but more for the opportunity to antagonize Grinnolle and thus, Finnegaff.

"Rodeo!" Mia yelled. She waved an arm in the air and mocked twirling a lariat.

"Miagaff?" Carameth smiled at her warm, laughing face. "What's rodeo?" All had heard; all awaited her answer.

"Ohhhh Hoooo!" She laughed. "You guys are gonna like this one!"

It was nearly half a mile when the company caught up to Finnegaff, who, to this day, has not attempted to light his pipe with a living horse. He was seated on a grazing Grinnolle, accompanied by Strongwind. Both were looking away from the approaching party. They were on a small grassy knoll peering northward.

"Hey, cowboy!" Mia yelled from forty feet out. Finnegaff's hand shot up, palm out toward her, indicating the necessity of silence. He didn't turn to them. They stopped in their tracks. Mia took a release of adrenaline. Her heart rate doubled as she thought of darkhounds, shadowrought and worse. Finnegaff then turned his head to them and motioned for them to approach. They rode forward and stopped at the crest of the small mound. They gaped at the majestic sight the wizard and Strongwind had discovered.

A grassy, shallow valley spread out before them for miles. A lake marked the center of the valley, where sun glistened off the even waves created by a soft wind. It was a thousand yards in diameter and emitted a winding stream that ran east through the tapered end of the gigantic depression in the plain. Hundreds upon hundreds of large animals dotted the valley. From this distance Mia could tell that many were the size of cattle, and that many of the larger beasts dwarfed even them.

"Elephants!" Mia could see their trunks from where they stood.

"Mammoths," Finnegaff corrected.

"Mammoths are extinct!" she pointed out that which was obviously not true on Morrah.

"Well, yes. On your world," Finnegaff reminded. "This I know about. The mammoths are extinct at your home. But no here!"

"There aren't any dinosaurs here, are there?" Mia recalled movies from her home that depicted lands dominated by animals that put Man at a position of less than at the top of the food chain.

"No," Zimm buzzed. "They are gone many years." Mia was glad for that.

They watched the great beasts for a time, the slow moving animals going about their business of grazing or sunbathing or playing in the water. A mammoth shot water from his trunk high into the air. So large was the animal that the spray seemed to move in slow motion, giving a perspective of size. Mia then realized that they were even larger than she had originally perceived, three times the size of an elephant or better. Some had long, twisted tusks. Others were lacking. Many had babies, for it was the birthing time of year.

"They're short-coated this time of year," Finnegaff explained. "They're migrating north for the coming of summer, where they rear their calves. For them, this is a place to rest along the way."

"They're beautiful!" Romessee whispered.

"Is this the first time you've seen them?" Mia asked her.

"Oh, no. But I marvel them each time I do."

"Are they dangerous?" Mia asked.

"Not if you do not stand where they step," Zimm offered.

"Or be caught in the path of a stampede," Carameth added.

"Well, yes, of the smaller ones," Finnegaff finished. "The mammoths have no enemies and don't stampede." The smaller ones the wizard referred to were the cattle-bison-like animals, wild horses, smaller pachyderms that were half hippopotamus, half water buffalo, zebras (except they were black and orange striped), several species of small deer-like antelope and a host of other herd animals. Birds flew everywhere among the great beasts, bright white wings gently flapping against the deep green of the valley.

The great beasts were harmless, for the most part. As with any animal, threat made to their young was cause for combat, thus in particular did one avoid a parent mammoth. Though the huge mammoths did not engage in stampede, every other species did. When this rare occasion took place, it was all of them at once.

It was the third afternoon of their ten-day trek across the plains. The path had broadened as they proceeded northward, and it was on this same broad trail that they had all stopped to observe something very big approaching above the horizon in the sky, coming straight at them from the north.

"Ah!" Finnegaff spoke strongly. "The dragon Cinndar!" Mia had learned about the Keeper of the Great Beasts, the indisputable warder to the wild plain, if self appointed. Not that any would challenge his claim. He was known for being exceedingly, if not obsessively social, cordial in all ways, less those who should threaten his herds or natural wonders, of which few lived to tell. Swiftly, silently, he came upon them. With the abrupt snap of a giant sheet being shaken out, he back flew, and gracefully set down on the path right in front of them. It took a few moments for Strongwind to calm the horses. Mia had, of course, experienced dragons before. Well, Cwyth, anyway. On each encounter, she had been taken by his immense size. But Cinndar was bigger even than Cwyth, much bigger. He looked just like Cwyth, except more colorful and much larger. For he was, as it was well known, the largest of the four dragons.

"Great day, dragon Cinndar!" Finnegaff bowed formally. The Mantid girls were on Mandarin, twittering quietly yet nervously, touching their antennae to the other's in a frantic duel-like action.

"Lord Finnegaff!" The dragon's voice was as deep as he was big. "I thought I smelled you!" One could hear long known affection in his words. "Dear Strongwind!" The Centaur bowed, smiling. "Carameth, Prince of elves!" Carameth bowed as well. "Belemeriath!" The fairy had flown over to his monstrous friend. He perched on the tip of Cinndar's nose. The dragon's huge light blue banana-shaped eyes crossed.

"Great day, Cinndar," Belemeriath said, bowing low to the dragon.

"Ah, friend, you have a beautiful energy!" He uncrossed his eyes to look at Finnegaff. Belemeriath remained on his nose, now turned, and seated cross-legged to look at whomever Cinndar addressed. "Wizard! Please introduce!"

"This, friend dragon, is Miagaff, Romessee, Zimmictreckt and Karthich." The Mantids had slowed their twittering, yet sat upon their horse huddled together.

Cinndar, sitting in the manner of a dog, a very, very big dog, swept the group with his eyes. "This would most certainly be the eight Carrying of the Book of Life. And you, Miagaff, would be the Carrier." Belemeriath, still seated on the great dragon's muzzle, nodded his head

Mia was amazed. "How do people...dragons... know who we are all the time?" Her shoulders slouched. Here they are trying to be sneaky, Mia thought. It seemed that lately everywhere they went everyone knew who they were. She was, of course, exaggerating a bit by claiming they were known everywhere they went. But it certainly seemed so!

Cinndar cocked his head. "You keep company with a human, a fairy, an elf, a Mumbwe, a Centaur and two Mantids. Such a gathering only happens during the Carrying. This mixture of races would otherwise not stay together long, if at all. Their ways differ too greatly."

"He's right, Miagaff!" Belemeriath said. "Me and Finnegaff and Romessee and Zimm and...."

"Friend fairy," Cinndar interrupted him. "Could you please perch somewhere elsewhere? It's most difficult to converse with my eyes wanting to cross."

Belemeriath flew over to Mia. He cupped a hand to the side of his mouth as if divulging a secret. "We kinda stick out!"

"Oh. Yeah," Mia said, looking toward the ground in contemplation. "I guess we would."

"I see," Cinndar turned his great head in the direction of Zimm and Karthich, "that you have not before encountered a dragon." They looked very nervous, particularly now that they had been addressed directly. They were sitting absolutely still, rare for Mantids except for defensive reasons. Cinndar was indeed intimidating, more so if one had never the opportunity to take in the full expanse of such a marvelous being. He slowly placed one of his huge fore claws palm down on the ground some thirty feet from the frightened Mantids, double opposing thumbs flat in converse directions, the other three claws flat. He held very still. A single nail was nearly half of one of the tiny Mantid's height in thickness and almost twice as long. In a kind, gentle voice, he urged the two. "Please, friend Mantids. Come forth to touch my claw. I promise you that I will remain still." He waited. Neither Zimm nor Karthich moved.

Romessee used Pirasaa, feeling the Mantid's fear, understanding it. "Zimm, Karthich, dear." She was standing right next to them. "Do not judge him by his size. Judge him by what you know of him." This was a concept in which the little Mantids were very experienced. They moved, chittering small, meek sounds. Slowly they dismounted their horse. Slow, that is, for Mantids. They glanced to Finnegaff, who extended a hand to the waiting dragon, giving his approval with a smile. They stepped to the dragon's nearest claw and touched it with their antennae, quick stabs at first, then with gaining confidence.

"Now." Cinndar was whispering. "Take a few steps back and stop. I'll then move my claw." They stepped three or four steps back (it's hard to count such things of races that walk on anywhere from two to six of their legs at any given time). Upon stopping, Cinndar slowly lifted the claw and set it a few feet to the left. "Now, Mantid friends! Touch it again!" He did this a few times with such skill that within five minutes Zimm and Karthich were, for the practical side of things, shaking claws with the dragon.

He warned them. "That's enough for now, and I'd advise you trust no other dragon like this, not Cwyth, not Corgg, and least of all, Creggar, for we are different from one another," he paused.

"Mantids are wonderful," he said, "though Queen Xyledes can be, dare I say, difficult. How is the royal thorn, Zimm? Karthich?" He had been paying attention, and recalled both their names.

The jittery laughter of Mantids shook Karthich. Zimm followed suit. Mia laughed as well, knowing that the two, as well as she, did not think very highly of their ruler. She was also very impressed with Cinndar. So different was he from Cwyth!

"She is a difficult Mantid, so I am sure!" Zimm said.

"Yes, she is!" Karthich added. "She does look after herself!"

"The same, then. Unchanged." Cinndar nodded. "What is your assignment?" He knew of the mechanisms of the hierarchy of Mantadia, that each citizen had a job, usually for life, that was referred to as an assignment. The end result of this system of task produced some of the planet's finest craftsmen.

Karthich spoke first. "I am a jailer, and scribe to the dungeons."

"I am a jailer and apprentice to Skallagaff, wizard advisor to Kings." She placed a claw on Karthich's shoulder. "Karthich is also scribe to Miagaff the Eighth Carrier!"

"So honored are you! And Skallagaff is a dear friend! I see you have both been blessed with a cleft clypeus," he added.

"It is not so much a blessing," Karthich said.

"Is it not?" the dragon said. "Where are you, now, at this time? What are you doing here? And how important is it?" He paused as the Mantid girls considered his words. He watched their expressions, revealed by their curling antennae. "Yes, friends, you are truly blessed!

"Carameth, Prince of elves! How fares your wonderful mother?" Cinndar was anxious for news of those he knew. He kept a philosophy of always being polite enough to ask of their welfare.

"She does well, kind and great dragon!" Carameth nodded with a single slight move of his head as he spoke. "She does send her best, and plans to visit the plains later this summer. Official business, of course."

"Of course! I shall look forward to our meeting!" The dragon moved his thick neck effortlessly, raising this massive head to tower above them. "I do offer quarters this evening and ask you be my guests."

"We would be delighted!" Finnegaff stood tall, touching the brim of his hat as he spoke.

"Wonderful! This trail leads to my lair, five leagues north. I have first a tiger that is getting a little out of control and must speak with him on the matter, for sadly he does kill for pleasure, and he must cease or be disposed of. I shall be there by night fall." With those words, the mighty dragon stepped backward four long strides, leaped into the air and took to flight, causing powerful swirling air currents that twisted in all directions. They were strong enough to blow Finnegaff's hat off and mess everybody's hair. At least those who had hair. They watched his slow, strong wing beats as his huge form grew smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared over the horizon.

"He's huge!" Mia exclaimed.

"Yes, he is!" Romessee echoed.

"So is his heart," Finnegaff concluded.

"We touched a dragon! We touched a dragon!" Zimm and Karthich were facing each other, bouncing, clapping their fore claws against each other's.

Zimm ran toward the others. "Did you see that?!" She bounced as she aimed her fore claw to where the dragon had stood only minutes ago.

"What did he feel like?" Romessee was genuinely enthusiastic.

"Like," Zimm looked at Karthich.

"Like a big rock!" Karthich finished. Mia later learned they had never seen a dragon, that dragons never ventured into Mantadia, and few Mantids ever left the country. Consequently, myths of terror and legends forbidding contact had evolved about the gargantuan, fearsome fire-breathing creatures of the north. As it is with all myths and legends, they had elements of fact backing them. Cinndar was no exception to the alleged ferocity, though he reserved that part of himself for the enforcement of his golden rule: if you kill it, you eat it. Other dragons did not conduct themselves so. With the preconceived concepts of dragons thus set forth by their race, Zimm and Karthich were at the very least cautious when Cinndar showed up. At the very most, they were on the verge of flight. Yet the dragon Cinndar conducted himself in a manner that truly bore fruit to the Mantids. But Mia learned later that, to Zimm and Karthich, what the wise old dragon had given them in reference to their deformity was a hundred fold the value of having touched his claw.

It was just Cinndar's lair to the dragon. To everyone else it was the Inn on the Plains, an array of wooden and adobe buildings, perhaps twenty or so. Two families lived at the Inn on the Plains with Cinndar, two human families. One was with five children. The younger couple had but two children. To the last one were they darkly tanned, the result of being scantily (yet tastefully) clothed. They tended the grounds, the buildings and the guests.

The younger of the two children was a girl of four or so, her elder sibling a boy of six. Of the other family the youngest was a blond-haired girl of three years, the only blond of the entire population of the Inn, as it were. The second and third, both boys, were twins, seven years of age. The fourth and fifth children were girls, fourteen and sixteen. The adults were standing in the yard of one of the houses, ankle deep in grasses that were heavily clustered with little white, pink and blue flowers. Of the children, all but the two older sisters were playing nearby their parents. The teenage girls were seated on a bench under a medium sized weeping willow. The younger was sewing something while her older sister peeled potatoes for their evening's supper.

It was of little surprise that Finnegaff knew some of them, the couple with five offspring, yet he knew not a one of the children. It was a lesser surprise and could even have been foretold that having not ever met any of them was not a factor that prohibited Belemeriath from flying straight away to the two oldest girls.

"Great day, fair maids!" He bowed in mid air as he hovered between the two. They set their work aside. "I am Belemeriath of Elfwood," he flourished his hat. "And who might you wonderful ladies be?" That was about as close to formal talk that Belemeriath ever ventured.

"I would be Kammah," the older girl said. She stood and curtsied and smiled at the fairy, playing up the formality. "And this would be my sister, Amielle."

"Kammah! Amielle!" Belemeriath bowed twice. "Hey! We ran into Cinndar down there," the formality was over for the little green fairy. He pointed toward the road they had traveled. "He sent us here while he goes to take care of a tiger!"

"Yes, we know!" Amielle said. "That stupid tiger needs to go!"

"Amielle, I don't think so!"Kammah reprimanded.

"A lot you know! He's a menace!"

"He's an animal, gnort face!" The sisters quarreled as sisters do. "That's what animals do."

"I would love to go on a tiger hunt!" Belemeriath interrupted the little spat.

"I don't know," Kammah smiled at him. "Tigers are very fast animals!" She prompted the fairy to show off. She had met fairies before, yet not Belemeriath, and knew, as does everyone, that fairies loved to show off, and that they would do so with very little encouragement. Not to exclude that entertainment was scant when one lived a day's walk from their nearest neighbor, let alone anything that might qualify as a town.

Finnegaff and Strongwind were speaking with the two couples. Men grasped arms with men in greeting, talking warmly with many smiles and nods. Mia, Romessee, Carameth, Karthich and Zimm had walked over to the two girls seated beneath the tree.

"Miagaff!" Belemeriath buzzed her face. He sped to Romessee. "Rom!" He coaxed. "I'm faster than a tiger, huh?!"

"Oh, I don't know! Tigers are pretty fast!" Mia teased. She turned to the two girls. "Hi! I'm Miagaff, and this is..."

"Fast?! Watch this!" With that, he bolted across the yard, circled the house once and returned in just two seconds. The two girls, now seated at the edge of the bench, applauded. Belemeriath stood on the bench armrest, puffed out his chest with his hands on hips and his eyes closed.

"Belemeriath," Romessee asked him, "Do introduce us to your friends!"

The little fairy changed his manner in a flash. "Oh! Yeah!" He flew to each in turn. "This is Miagaff, Romessee, Zimm, Karthich and Carameth! We're Mia's Stand! Miagaff is the Carrier of the Book of Life!" He certainly wasted little time getting to the point!

The gleeful smiles of both of the girls turned to amazement. "No!" whispered Amielle.

"Yes!" Belemeriath whispered back.

"Saa!" spoke Kammah. They looked at Mia. "I am honored, Carrier!" She sprang to her feet. She gave Mia a nervous curtsy, as did her sister.

Mia was tongue-tied. "Uh...." She shot a glance at Belemeriath and shook her head. "Fairy!"

Finnegaff and the others were watching the teenagers from a distance. "I see we've been found out!" he said.

"That be quick!" Strongwind said.

"Belemeriath, I'm certain!" They both nodded. The two couples were puzzled.

It was the eldest man, Hereth, that caught on first. His eyebrows raised. "I see!" he exclaimed. "You Carry the Book of Life!" The younger woman gasped.

"We are truly honored, Lord Finnegaff!" the younger man, Shandonne, said. They all had their eyes fixed on the group of loquacious youth. "Does Cinndar know?"

Finnegaff didn't answer. In fact, he didn't even move in acknowledgment.

"Oh. Yes," the man continued. "Never mind. I'm sure he would know. A week ago."

"More than likely," Hereth confirmed.

The caretakers of Cinndar's Inn invited the rest to cookies, tea and lemonade at a large bench situated under yet another huge tree, a pine of sorts. As Kammah and Amielle aided the adult women in the kitchen in preparation of serving their guests, the girls were reminded to act accordingly, to behave in a civil manner. Yes, they were very important guests, but they were guests just the same, and to treat them as such. That most of them were in their age group and likely enjoyed the same things they did. And to try to not put on any airs, they were so carefully told (as their mother, Dierelle, knew them all too well), that being themselves would suffice.

Six girls placed bets with Belemeriath on his feats of speed as they intermittently talked of fashion, hair and other girl things. Carameth, not well versed on those subjects, joined Finnegaff and the others and informed them of happenings abroad, and discussed the state of affairs of Elfwood. Cinndar returned later than expected. He touched down in the pit he called his home several hundred yards to the west of the guest homes. He soon joined them, walking in great, graceful strides to where they congregated.

Others, even those with abilities such as Romessee's, might not have noticed what the caretakers did of their employer (so loosely called). Knowing him well as they did, they could see that Cinndar was solemn, if a bit distraught. They concluded correctly that the tiger regretfully had been disposed of. Cinndar never liked this part of his job, but he cared for injustice even less. Thus he held that this kind of service must be implemented if the Plains of the Great Beasts were to maintain an ecosystem that had survived many a millennium.

"It was not I, friend Hereth," Finnegaff squinted as he leaned on an elbow, seated at the yard table across from the eldest man, "who chose this menagerie of adolescents!"

"I'm certain that things are never dull for you!" Hereth smiled broadly, knowing of Finnegaff's awkwardness with children.

"No, no! That they aren't, friend! That they aren't!"

"And I'm certain," Cinndar added, "that they keep you busy. Adolescence is a lively age for humans. For all the races!"

"I would say not to darkhounds. They all be the same to me!" Strongwind said.

"Yes," the dragon agreed. "That's the one species that has many elements missing. Did you know their children don't play-at all? And while we're speaking of them, darkhounds are in the forests north of here. I believe that's your destination, is it not, good wizard?"

"I thought as much!" Finnegaff said. "Yes, yes. It's where we're headed."

"Perhaps I might be able to lend a hand. Or claw, as it were," offered the great dragon. Finnegaff knew Cinndar well. He knew the dragon meant he was willing to fly them to the borders of his land.

Finnegaff waved him off. "No, thanks anyway, Cinndar. But Saa, as you know..."

"Yes. Of course. I'll see you to the border of the Plains then, but from high above."

"We would be in your debt, friend!" Finnegaff lit his pipe with half a cookie.

After a wonderful dinner of vegetables, pies, and a mystery meat that Mia to this day has been fearful of learning the identity, Finnegaff pointed out that the 'ancient' tradition of 'meeting at Cinndar's Inn while Carrying the Book of Life' must be honored, if ancient was constituted by the two minutes it took for Finnegaff to conceive the line. He must be tired, Mia thought. She knew him capable of fabricating much more convincing 'honor to traditions' than that.

The girls had obtained permission to hold a slumber party in one of the larger guest houses. Shortly after dark, they decided to undertake their social event. They walked to the cabin they were staying in, their packs in arm, cookies and pastries in hand.

They seated on two of the eight beds. Mia and Kammah were on one bed with Karthich, scribe book open in one claw, a pen in another claw, inkwell in a third. The dexterity of the little Mantid never failed to amaze Mia. Romessee, Amielle and Zimm were on the other bed. All gave Mia their undivided attention, Kammah and Amielle in particular.

Hours passed. Mia was developing her story telling skills, something she found she loved to do, by giving accounts of their adventures of late. "A clear cloud, like colored glass, came crackling through the trees!" She made crackling sounds as she writhed her fingers. "It flowed all over us, and it made everything quiet!" Her voice fell to a whisper. "So quiet that even when you talked you could hardly hear yourself! Then it got hard to breathe. I thought I was gonna pass out, when, and it wasn't me, mind you, but Saa, had me get out a Stracombe that Marigaff gave me."

"Wow!" breathed Amielle.

"You know Marigaff?!" Kammah said.

"What's a Stracombe?" Amielle said.

"Yes! I know Marigaff very well! A Stracombe is...."

The slumber party had their laughs and cries, especially when Mia told of the fall of Starrelocke. The Mantids Karthich and Zimmictreckt had never been to such a social event. Their lack of confidence had them speaking little. When Mia told of the oppression they had been subject to in Mantadia, Karthich did mention that, in light of social acceptance such as this, return to Mantadia was not something either of them would ever entertain. Mia told stories late into the night.

Mia dreamed, vivid, with the clarity of reality. She was in school, not her home school, but one she knew well yet did not know at all, for this is sometimes the way of dreams. On a hot summer's day, she and her best friend, though not Susan, a girl in a purple dress that she knew well yet had never met, sat in the grass beneath a shade tree in the schoolyard, their books strewn on the ground beside them. Her friend was upset about something Mia knew all about yet could not quite recall.

Her heart went out to her friend as the sandy haired girl spoke. "And I just don't know what to do!" she cried. "I can't seem to...I...I just don't know what I need!"

Mia was hit by a wave of compassion. Somehow she knew that it was the Book of Life her friend needed. Her consciousness pushed the tainted magic of Essaa aside. "Is this what you need?" She grasped the string that tethered the Book. She withdrew but the tip from her tunic.

"Yes...yes!" Her friend's tears ceased. She reached for the Book with both hands. "Yes!" But Mia did not give her the Book. Instead, she returned it to its hiding place.

"Give it to me!"

"I don't think so." She stood and held her hand over the Book concealed beneath her clothing and smiled down at the girl. "You shall never possess the Book of Life, dark sorceress!"

Eringaff emitted an evil hiss, then screamed hideously. Like the feeling one can imagine from hearing fingernails on a chalkboard while chewing aluminum foil, it chilled Mia right to the bone. Her form changed into her true identity. Mia found herself face to face with the dark sorceress herself. Fear swept her. She concentrated on that which Finnegaff had instructed: Starrelocke's death; the darkhound attack in Elfwood; Marigaff and Aaramerielle's torture. The fear gave way to anger. He had also advised that Eringaff couldn't harm her in dreams. She hoped he was right, as she was about to find out.

Eringaff's eyes were red with rage. She held the black Maraska Pon Durk threateningly, the deathred viper in the staff's mouth snapping wildly. She spat through clenched teeth. "Miagaff, the FAKE! You will lose this battle. I am tenfold the sorceress and a thousand years wiser!"

"You haven't been able to get the Book in three thousand years," Mia retorted. "What makes you think you'll get it now?"

"WHAT MAKES ME...AAAAHHHHEEEEE!" The dark sorceress emitted the most terrifying blood chilling scream Mia could have imagined. The scenery, the school, the grounds, everything flashed rapidly back and forth from color to black and white. Mia felt as if the very life of the setting were being pulled from it, for indeed, that was what was happening.

Mia awoke in a cold sweat, heart pounding, breathing hard. She bolted upright, groped for the Book about her neck. It was still there. She glanced quickly around the room to find all asleep but she. Then she felt the rush of Saa, the dirty, contaminated taint of Essaa with it, a mind sickening trembling like an earthquake. The vibration of it was so extreme that it most certainly alarmed every wizard on the planet and perhaps a few that weren't.

Chapter 31

The Dark Sorceress Eringaff, high in the recesses of her castle, had both hands submerged in the bowl. She groped at the water of the Stracombe of seers, cursed it as she tried to physically invade the dream she had employed the tool to create. But as it was little known, even to the dark sorceress herself, that to pour the water from the Stracombe of the seers was harmless; but to attempt to reach into it while it was invoked could have disastrous results. Eringaff struggled in vain with strong, spastic jerks and pulls to free her hands from the bowl. She was held fast by the untried magic. Her vacuous eyes were wide, wild with anger. She shook violently from the sentry magic of the Stracombe, as did the foundation of her castle and miles of the cold, dark land surrounding it.

It was enough Essaa she drew on, yet just enough. "Galta duo!" (Release me!) she screeched. Slowly, as if submerged in thick glue rather than water, she pulled her hands from the Stracombe. The moment her hands were loosed, the magic of the bowl erupted. It surged violently. A deafening crack pierced the air. The concussion sent Eringaff sprawling backward onto the ground, flat on her back, raising a cloud of dust that had not been disturbed for perhaps decades. She sprang to her feet, scarlet faced with wild rage.

She screamed as she threw the bowl across the room and out the window to the rocks far below. "THE BOOK WILL BE MINE!!! MIAGAFF, THE FAKE!!!" She stormed out of the uppermost room of the castle. She sent the first being she came upon, a chambermaid, to summon her general and scribe. She invoked Essaa on the second person she encountered, an unfortunate chambermaid, and slammed her into the rocky wall, rendering her unconscious, all the time muttering to herself, "Miagaff, the fake!"

She made her way to her quarters, where in very short time there arrived the scribe Mobbliss and her First General, Mordak. "Come!" she commanded as she pushed her way past them. She led them out into the tall, narrow stone hallway. They strode down the dim corridor, around a corner, outside onto a large open area in the center of the castle.

The dark sorceress stood at the edge of the hundred yard wide platform of uneven solid rock that terminated to a vertical drop of as much distance as width. With both hands, she held Maraska Pon Durk horizontally to shoulder height and at arm's length. A moderate wind blew in her face. Her long, bluish-black hair whisked behind, and her purple dress waved gently, interrupted by sudden tight flaps when irregular gusts of wind occurred. The Dark Sorceress Eringaff invoked Essaa. The words hissed through clenched teeth. "Logostisus Stammet Storyops! Da rhutsh mass amt!" (Greater Fairy Storyops! I summon you now!) She held her position for many minutes.

A dot of light blinked into existence in the great distance. The fairy Storyops sped from the far end of the valley some miles away, a point of yellow-green light hugging the ground at impossible speed. It scaled the cliff not inches from the treacherous stony face. With a flash, the sickly yellow light changed into a two-foot tall greater fairy. He grinned a perpetual smile of many long, needle-shaped teeth. His feet kneaded the cold, dark stone with inch-long contorted claws.

The Scribe Mobbliss spoke to his queen when she relaxed her pose. "Dark sorceress," he whispered, for it was expected of him to advise of such things, "can we trust the greater fairy? They are not so loyal!"

"I have thought of this, Mobbliss." She spoke loud enough for the fairy standing before her to hear. He stood as still as a mime, legs bent, hands clenched at his chest, his eyes on the sorceress. He stared at her unblinking. She faced him and spoke with commanding authority and arrogant confidence. "A greater fairy is the only being that can out run a lesser fairy. It is Belemeriath that is the problem."

The fairy had a hoarse, raspy loud voice, weak even for his size. "Belemeriath!" Spittle ran from his teeth. "Heard of Belemeriath!" His angry eyes glowed a deep red. He wrung his black, scaly hands together. "Kill Belemeriath!"

"If you wish, then do so. But bring me the Book of Life!" she said.

"Yes!" he screeched. "The Book of Life! Yes!" With that, he flashed into light form, then sped away to the east.

"GET BACK HERE, YOU IDIOT!" Eringaff roared. Storyops reversed his direction at high speed, yet did not arc as he did so. He simply retraced his flight path. He flashed into fairy form and stood before Eringaff. "Wait until I tell you where you need to go, you moron!" She struck at the fairy with Maraska Pon Durk; he easily dodged the blow. She held her anger at bay. For now. For now.

"General!" she commanded his attention, not that she didn't already have it. His always-formal salute went hand to chest. Her speech wavered in anger. "The Book travels now across the west of the Plains of the Great Beasts." She moved her face to within inches of his. She grabbed a good handful the general's cheek with an iron grip and pulled him close. As she dug her fingernails deeper in the man's face, her voice dropped to a whisper. "In four days the Book of Life will reach the mountains near Elfwood. Take threescore of your best and cause a diversion for this imbecile! You two work out the details!" She threw his head back as she released him; he snapped to attention. Blood ran down his neck from where she'd gouged his face. She looked at her handiwork and burst in to laughter. He knew better than to attempt to assess his injuries while in her presence and remained unmoving. Indeed, he was grateful for having survived the encounter, or perhaps that he was the same species now as he was when he'd arrived. She spun on her heels, still laughing, and licked the fresh blood from her fingertips as she strode away, leaving the general and the evil fairy to deal with one another.

Chapter 32

The Morran sky was turning from black to dark blue, as it does in the very early hours of the morning, clear skies promising the warmth of the sun, yet not for a few hours. Mia sat on the edge of her bed, her heart finally slowing down a bit.

Finnegaff burst into the room, Lebethtro Larra held out in front of him. The knotty end of the staff glowed brightly, illuminating the quarters. Romessee shot up in her bed. "Is all well?" he said to her. "Where's Miagaff?" He scanned the line of four beds to his right. The first two were taken by Amielle and Kammah. The third one contained Romessee. The fourth one was vacant.

"Here," Mia called. "Behind you." Mia was in the first bed on the left. "I'm okay," she assured the wizard.

"What in Saa was that?!"

Mia shrugged. "I guess I met the dark sorceress."

"Well, yes. I guess you did." Finnegaff stroked his beard, a mannerism Mia had learned the wizard did when he felt a response he received was inadequate. "What did she do to cause such a racket?"

Mia shook her head. "I don't know. It happened after I woke up."

"You must have done what we discussed. In the dream, I mean."

Mia was slow to answer. She nodded. "Yeah, I did. And a few extra things."

"Well, whatever it was that you did, you clearly upset her majesty!" Finnegaff smiled. Mia didn't feel humorous just then.

Mia and Romessee decided to awaken Kammah and Amielle, suspecting that their mother would soon be there to do so anyway. As predicted, their mother came for them just before dawn, requiring them to help in preparing to serve breakfast to all. The four girls of Mia's Stand decided to join them in the kitchen.

Cinndar said his good-byes after breakfast, saying something about a matter he needed to tend to. He left them with best wishes and welcomed all to visit again soon.

Breakfast was good: eggs, potato something, (something- a term Mia ended many Morran dishes with), bacon, kind of, and pancakes. Definitely pancakes. Zimm and Karthich were fine with the eggs and the bacon. To them, the potatoes and pancakes smelled like dead plants. Vegetables were just not on their menu.

They readied the horses. After giving their farewells, they set to the task of crossing the Plains of the Great Beasts. The road was wide and, since there were no side roads with cover, they opted to take the traveled road, for sake of ease.

In two days' travel the flat terrain turned to gently rolling grassy plains. By the third day trees became more abundant. On several occasions they had to circumvent massive herds of grazers, sometimes taking them miles out of their way. The fourth day brought rolling hills to the plain. By mid afternoon, mountains came in to view, yet a distance out. For the last hour, Mia noticed the mountains grew little in size.

Gullies that had formed by flooding caused obstacle. Spotty outcroppings of rock were more easily circumvented than crossed, slowing them or averting their course. The tired Mia's Stand passed quietly in the late afternoon. They began to consider stopping for the night.

Belemeriath took to flight and hovered in front of the line of travelers, knees bent, hands palms down at arm's length. "Listen! Listen!" he yelled in his loud, little voice. Mia heard not a thing, just crickets and frogs. The fairy darted straight up in the air about fifty feet, then straight down.

"Running animals!" he yelled. "Lots of them! Lots and lots! And they're heading our way! There's elephants, and deer, and..."

Finnegaff held up a hand to silence his little friend, cocking an ear to listen. All did the same. Mia could hear, faint but powerful, a distant continuous thunder.

"Quickly! All on horses and over there!" He pointed with Lebethtro Larra toward one of the rock outcroppings that dotted the plains. The jutting rocks were steep, and this particular grouping was higher than many of the others. They followed Finnegaff at a run to the side away from the charging beasts. The sound was becoming louder. There was no question what was about to happen. They dismounted the horses.

"Up!" Finnegaff cried to the rest of the party as he motioned for them to climb the outcrop. They began to climb. The Mantids flew to the fifty-foot top before any of the others were six feet off the ground. Finnegaff had not yet joined in the climb, having delayed to speak with Strongwind about the horses.

The face of the rocks were marred with crevices. Each of them took one so all could make time which, Mia judged by the shaking of the ground, was running short. She wedged herself into the crevice almost at the top, the roaring sound so intimidating that she thought only to stop and hold on. Just as she did, the stampede reached them. The entire rock shook.

The great beasts crowded the plain for what seemed to be miles. The air was alive with trumpeting, squawking, bleating, whistling and otherwise very noisy cries of distress from big animals that ran from a fear unknown to Mia's Stand. Strongwind reassured the horses in only a way that a Centaur can, instructing them to press themselves sideways against the rocks away from the stampede. For this, the stand was grateful. Without his ability, the horses would have spooked to join the herd of wild, scared animals.

Finnegaff made it to the top of the outcrop. He had seen the other three just before ascending himself. He felt that they had gained enough vertical altitude, though they had not yet crested the knoll. He gazed toward the oncoming herd. From his vantage point, he could tell that the end of the stampede was close. So was the cause. Behind the running animals ran a group of thirty or so men brandishing torches at the beasts, causing their terror. They seemed to be moving fast, very fast for men. Finnegaff looked closer. Darkhounds! They were closing as the last of the great beasts passed the rock. Finnegaff positioned Lebethtro Larra in preparation for attack. Carameth had made it to the top. He was knocking an arrow when the darkhounds screeched to a halt. Some of them dropped their torches and fled in the opposite direction. For but a second Finnegaff was puzzled by their sudden flight, darkhounds typically not able to distinguish between bravery and stupidity, when the monstrous Cinndar flew directly over head, so close was he that the wizard had to hold his hat in place to keep it from blowing away. Just as he was above them, he roared the release of a stream of fire, sweeping the area the darkhounds occupied. Some were immediately incinerated. Others were alive and on fire, their yowls heard above the distancing stampede. Cinndar passed the darkhounds. He banked hard to the left and circled ninety degrees. He then approached the enemy from their flank. On that second and final pass, he flamed, eliminating all the darkhounds to the last one.

He circled in a tight curve. With a single, graceful back flap, he landed on the far side of the rock outcropping from where Strongwind stood with the horses.

Cinndar was standing, bringing him to eye level with Finnegaff. "I do apologize, Lord Finnegaff, for spoiling your fun. But the herd, you know."

"Yes, yes. Uh," He turned to Carameth. "Where are Miagaff and Romessee?" They looked around. "MIAGAFF! ROMESSEE!" he yelled.

"Here!" It was the Mumbwe, just climbing to the top. "I thought it best to stay where I was."

"Hmm. Yes," Finnegaff agreed. "MIAGAFF!" he called.

"Over here!" They could hear her but not see her. Her voice had come from over the brink of a rock to their right. They ran to her aid.

She was climbing and nearly to the top. She shook violently. She tripped and stumbled as they helped her the last few feet to the top. She looked terribly frightened.

"Miagaff! What's the matter?" The wizard held her shoulders. She grabbed his forearms as she lost her balance. She would have fallen had Finnegaff not caught her.

Her trembling was ferocious. "I...I...This..." she yelled as her breath came in rapid, heavy gulps as she broke into tears.

"Are you okay?" Finnegaff could feel her quaking nearly out of control. She was not okay.

Mia's face was white. She gagged. "I...I..." She shook herself. "The Book!" she clenched the leather string that had retained the Book of Life. It hung limp in her shaking fist.

"Did it fall off? Become untied?" Finnegaff said. Yet he knew better.

"NO! NO!" Tears streamed Mia's face. "Someone," she screamed, "this...thing...attacked me! It stole it!" She collapsed into Finnegaff's arms.

###

Catch the exciting conclusion to Mia's Stand,

The Mad Wizard of Slagg

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About the Author

Living in Colorado for many years has brought an appreciation for mountains and all things wild. Mia's Stand and The Mad Wizard of Slagg reflect many good morals toward others and nature. David is an amateur entomologist, a musician and does standup comedy, is devoted to family and the care of our environment.

David Hartman can be contacted through:

Twitter: <http://twitter.com/@davethebugguy>

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