The Land of Miu (3rd edition)

by Karen Lee Field

  The door burst open.

  “Kate! Emma!” Their mum ran down the steps. “Where have you been? I’ve been so worried.”

  Joe followed close behind.

  Bursting into tears, and without waiting for a reply, their mum grabbed hold of a daughter in each arm and pulled both of them tightly against her body. She sobbed.

  Kate felt a hand stroke her hair. She looked up at Joe’s unshaven face. Blood-shot eyes smiled down at her.

  “Where have you been?” repeated Joe. The tender smile turned into a look of concern as his gaze slid over their ripped and dirty garments. “Are you all right? Nobody hurt you, did they?”

  Kate shook her head.

  After a few minutes, Joe coaxed his wife to release the girls. “Jacqui, calm down and let them tell us where they’ve been.”

  “There was a big cat fight at dawn yesterday—” said Kate.

  “We went into tunnels and were chased by cats that were really people,” interrupted Emma. “I was scared. I got kidnapped and everything.”

  “Emma, this isn’t the time for one of your stories,” said her mother.

  “Mum, she’s not telling a story,” said Kate. “What she’s saying is true, but we should tell you everything that happened, from the beginning.”

  Their mum and Joe looked at their leather wrapped feet and exchanged looks.

  “You must be starving,” said their mum. “How do you like the sound of pancakes for breakfast?”

  “Yay! I love pancakes so much,” replied Emma, hugging her mum. “Can we have maple syrup and cream? And lots of strawberries? Do we have strawberries?”

  “You can have whatever you want.”

  “I’ll phone the police and let them know you’ve been found. And while you’re eating your breakfast you can tell us everything,” added Joe.

  Emma reached up and took her mother’s hand.

  Kate turned to Joe. He ran his hand through his messy, blond hair and looked down at her. His mouth quivered, but he didn’t say anything.

  Kate reached for his hand. “Come on, Dad, we’ve got the most incredible story to tell you.”

  About the Author

  Born within the sound of the Bow bells in London, Karen Lee Field was seven when her parents decided to move to the “Lucky Country” and settle in Sydney, Australia.

  Karen enjoys escaping to fantasy worlds—places where her sometimes ordinary life is transformed into an exciting adventure.

  The storyline for Cat’s Eyes originated from a dream, which has been included in the book as the scene where Emma overhears the kittens talking in the backyard, while she is hunting for butterflies. The dream awakened a world which Karen felt compelled to write about.

  She lives in the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney, with her family and growing number of pets.

  Connect with Me Online:

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/karenleefield

  Facebook: https://facebook.com/karenleefield

  My blog: https://www.karenleefield.com

  Continue reading to read the first chapter of Book 2, The King’s Riddle, for free:

  The King’s Riddle

  Book 2 of The Land of Miu Series

  by Karen Lee Field

  Princess Alara burst into the chamber. “Our fathers have been kidnapped!”

  Siptah held his balance and continued to swing the axe as he had been taught. Slow, deliberate movements his father had told him. It would build strength in his arms and legs, and stamina overall.

  He glanced at Alara. Serious emerald eyes peered out of the silver-tipped grey fur covering the top half of her face. Little rosy spots coloured the flawless skin on the bottom half. “What are you talking about? I saw my father a few hours ago.”

  The princess paced around the large, stone chamber. The end of her green gown fluttering around her leather wrapped feet. “Is your mother here?” she asked, craning her neck to see into the bedchambers.

  Siptah grinned as waves of scarlet brightened her servant’s face. Too slow to catch the door and stop it from slamming behind her, the servant looked disgruntled at his mistress before quickly lowering himself to the floor to wait for the next time she might have need of his assistance. Princess Alara hated servants doing everything for her and Siptah knew that the poor servant didn’t know if he was coming or going most of the time.

  “No, she is out,” replied Siptah, following through with his next movement, the axe unwavering in his hand. “Did you want to see her?”

  “It does not matter. We will have to deal with this ourselves.”

  Siptah sighed and straightened up. He rested the axe against the wall and turned his full attention to Alara, knowing his training session had come to a premature end. “Deal with what exactly, Alara?”

  “Father promised to meet with me an hour ago,” said Alara.

  “That does not mean they have been kidnapped.”

  He watched Alara’s little cat-nose twitch with annoyance. “I know, Siptah. Stop being awkward.”

  “Sorry.” He lowered his head and hoped she didn’t notice the grin on his face. “Why do you think someone has taken them?”

  “Because ...” Alara walked towards him.

  Siptah instantly looked up.

  The princess walked straight and tall, the black-slit pupils of her eyes growing large.

  “... the bird Zuberi has been training these past few months just dropped this into my lap.” Alara held up a small piece of coarse, red material.

  Siptah felt the colour drain from his face. He reached for the material and rolled it gently between his fingertips. “My father would never use this as a test for the bird,” he said. “And in the past he has always sent the bird directly to me.”

  “I know.”

  “This can only mean one thing.” Siptah paused for a moment. “Something has happened to King Wosret and my father.”

  Alara tutted. “That is what I have been trying to tell you.”

  Siptah stared at the material fragment, remembering his father’s words just before he left the chamber that morning. “Complete your training session on your own today, Son. The king wants me to go with him to check something out.”

  “What?”

  “I do not know, but I will be back in a few hours.” His father had walked to the door before pausing to add, “I will take the bird. Watch for him. He needs plenty of practice if—”

  “Siptah! You are not listening to me!”

  “I am.” Siptah forced his gaze onto the princess. She wasn’t happy. Her glare told him that, but when she stood with her hands on her hips, he knew he was in deep trouble. He sighed again.

  “As I was saying,” said Alara, removing her hands from her hips, she commenced her constant pacing again, oblivious to the colourful paintings decorating the walls behind her. “Zuberi sent the bird to me because he knew that would alert us to their predicament.”

  “Did the king tell you where he was going?”

  Alara shook her head. “No, but I know they left Manu.”

  Siptah groaned. “In that case, they could be anywhere in Miu. Where do we start looking?”

  Alara stopped pacing and turned to look at him. “I know exactly where we will look. In father’s chambers.”

  Horrified, Siptah gasped. “No way. They have only been gone a short while. They could return at any minute. In fact, I am sure they will.” Siptah held up the material. “This is probably a mistake. I am not searching your father’s things.”

  “A mistake? Your father is the best bodyguard my father has ever known. Zuberi does not make mistakes,” Alara replied. She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door. Her servant rose and quickly pulled the door open.

  A lump formed in Siptah’s throat. Alara was right. His father did not make mistakes. He sent the bird to Alara for a reason. The king needed help.

  “Hurry!”

  Siptah followed Alara along the halls of Manu, the western city of Miu. It was the middle of the
day, yet torchlight lit their way. The figures painted directly onto the stone walls seemed to dance in the mysterious lighting. The city never saw sunlight, but the occupants of Manu didn’t give that fact much heed. They had lived within the mountain for many, many years.

  Alara stopped outside the entrance to her father’s chambers.

  “No,” said Siptah, “we cannot do this. It is wrong.”

  “My father, the king, is missing and we have to find him,” replied Alara. “Where is the wrongness in looking for something that will tell us where he and Zuberi have gone?”

  Siptah shook his head. “It feels wrong. He is my king. I should not take part in this.”

  “Oh, forget it.” Alara turned to the door.

  Her servant rushed to open it for her.

  “You can stay out here,” she said to the servant. As she passed through the opened door, she said over her shoulder, “Siptah, you must come inside with me. Do not worry. I will do the searching.”

  King Wosret’s chambers were exquisite. Siptah stood on the threshold staring at the rich interior as if it was the first time he had stepped through the door. It wasn’t, of course. Siptah had spent many hours playing boisterously with Alara in these chambers—running, jumping, hiding, chasing, screaming with joy—as if he were the king’s son, instead of the son of the king’s bodyguard. When had he become self conscious?

  Siptah walked into the large sitting area. Large woven rugs covered the floor beneath the chunky, wooden chairs. Twelve Miuans could be seated at once, with plenty of room for more chairs to be dragged into the room if required. Siptah remained standing. His stomach churned over and over. He and Alara should not be in the chamber without the king’s knowledge or presence.

  Alara stood still for only a moment, considering, before she turned and walked into the next chamber—the king’s bedchamber.

  Siptah’s face grew hot as he watched Alara’s movements. She walked passed the four poster bed. The dark green curtains had been pulled back and Siptah had a clear view of the many cushions King Wosret slept on.

  “There has got to be something here,” said Alara, almost to herself.

  “The desk would be the best place to look.”

  Alara spun on her leather wrapped heel and made her way to the desk piled with parchments and scrolls. The minutes ticked by as she rummaged through everything.

  Nervous, Siptah looked over his shoulder at the door, half expecting the king to burst into the chamber in a terrible fury. A soft groan escaped Siptah’s lips. Hurry, Alara!

  “There is nothing here,” said Alara with a sigh.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Take a look for yourself.”

  Without thinking, Siptah stepped through the arch into the king’s bedchamber and walked to the table. He pushed parchments aside and searched beneath the scrolls. Nothing. He looked up at the princess. “What are we looking for?”

  “A clue,” she replied. “Anything to tell us where they might have gone.” She turned to look around the chamber. “Search the other desk in the sitting room. I will check Father’s gold box.”

  Siptah swallowed. The gold box held King Wosret’s most important papers. It was forbidden for anyone to look inside. “I hope we are not jumping to conclusions.”

  Alara rolled her eyes and walked away. “I will take full responsibility.”

  The desk in the sitting room held leather bound books and maps. Siptah had seen the king and his father sitting at this table on many occasions. The map on the top showed the lava tunnels in the lower regions of the mountain. Siptah picked up the map.

  At that moment, the door burst open.

  “What are you doing?” A deep voice bellowed across the room.

  Siptah gulped. He had been caught going through the king’s things. A disgrace to himself and his family, he would be exiled from Manu, possibly even the whole of Miu. He dropped the map and spun around, his heart in his mouth.

  “Well?”

  Councillor Najja’s ruddy face puffed up with rage. Brown blotches showed through the orange and white fur on the top of his head. The councillor was not born in Manu. He originally came from the eastern city, Bakhu, which accounted for the white undertones to his fur, instead of the deep grey that he and Alara shared.

  The councillor glared at Siptah. “What are you doing in here? Answer me!”

  “It is not ... I have not ... Alara is ...” Siptah stumbled over his words.

  “I never would have believed it of you,” said Councillor Najja, wiping his hands down the front of his thin tunic. “Zuberi’s son ... a spy!”

  “No! You are wrong.” Siptah’s throat went dry.

  “I catch you going through the king’s things. You cannot deny it.”

  “Will you call the king’s daughter a spy also, Councillor?” Alara stepped through the arch from the bedchamber.

  The councillor’s face flushed again. His orange eyes passed quickly between the princess and her new bodyguard-in-training.

  “I thought not,” said Alara before the councillor could reply. “My father is missing. We are trying to find out where he and Zuberi went today.”

  “Missing?” the councillor laughed and shook his head. “He took Zuberi on an errand. They will be back by supper.”

  “But he said he would meet with me this afternoon, and has not,” replied Alara.

  “I suppose something more important came up. These things do happen, you know.” Once again his gaze shifted from Alara to Siptah. “Now, leave these chambers immediately.”

  Siptah exchanged a look with Alara. He expected her to complain, but when she didn’t he was relieved. The councillor was probably right, but, then again, what about the bird and the piece of red material? Siptah knew full well that it was an urgent alert from his father.

  Alara crossed the room, a delicate smile spreading across her face. “We have not found anything and were about to leave anyway.”

  Siptah felt her hand close around his arm as she pulled him towards the door. The councillor stepped back to let them pass.

  In the hallway, the servant walking several paces behind them, Alara leaned close to Siptah’s ear. “I found a clue.”

  The King’s Riddle,

  available now in various digital formats.

  Check author’s website for updates:

  https://www.karenleefield.com