The Phoenix once told young Somer Krest, before becoming the Wise Old Man: “Transcendence is the way man achieves his highest goal: the full realization of the potential of his individual Self.”
So it was for New Shiloh and her returning refugees. They had transcended the evil Dragoness Lamia and her slave son, Morgan the Sea Dweller. The City of New Shiloh, like the Phoenix, became a symbol of striving to create a new pattern of life. And no one represented this change more than Ungula. Her long period of containment and ultimate liberation were evidence she paid her dues to sorrow, suffering, despair, and depression. Her personality elements made her truly human and also the master of herself.
While Zingara reigned as Queen, Princess Ungula exercised a healing power with the people. She was a diplomat of peace and love. The people knew she’d suffered cruel indignities. She loved people and they knew it without spoken words. She felt no internal inadequacy. Because of this, others trusted her unconsciously and openly. She was honest, sincere, warm. She sensed others need in a “telepathic” or “empathic” manner. She couldn’t help everyone but her mere attentions helped many.
In the palace, Yew Rue stood admiring a sleeping angel. Lying on her right side on a small lounge, Zingara’s right hand pillowed her cheek. Zingara’s other hand lay between her curled knees; her skin smooth, her dark eyelashes forming small spiky crescents halfway around her shut eyes. Small silver and stone earrings graced her earlobes. A smile on her face, and with eye movement flashing behind her closed lids, revealed content dreaming. Yew Rue carefully knelt beside her. He listened to her breathing, verifying she was really asleep, then he gently touched her bare knee with a kiss. “I love you,” he said to his unperceiving companion. He reached out cupping the back of her head feeling the softness of her dark hair.
“What am I feeling inside?” he whispered to himself. Stroking the hair at the back of her neck, he strained to memorize her shape and soft touch. Would he always feel this way? Would everything vanish as the drifting scarab sands? Since Somer Krest’s death, he was the Highest Ranking Military Leader of SCARAB. The Queen, the Wise Old Man’s beautiful daughter, was his bride, and still he had not found the real treasure. Where was Morgan’s magic box?