Reaching out, she sensed the hidden monks in the distance. Before she crested the next dune, she pushed her will forward.
Look away.
Then she pushed it back to her tracks.
Return.
When she reached the top she spied a number of monks.
Look away.
Return.
Then she went down into the shallow valley and up another dune.
Look away.
Return.
And repeat.
It was slow going. After two more dunes, she spotted the single-story structure that marked the entrance to the monastery. Unlike Zirdai’s colorful surface buildings, it was unremarkable, blending in with the surrounding desert. Only its straight lines gave it away as unnatural and man-made.
Four monks were stationed around the entrance and one was on duty inside. Shyla thrust her will toward all five, and they suddenly found various other areas of the desert very fascinating.
The pace was brutal, draining her energy with every step. But she was determined. By the time she entered the building, she dripped with sweat. The rectangular space contained only one bench. Large windows had been carved into the walls. Velbloud curtains hung limply, covering them. Sitting cross-legged on the bench was a monk, the official greeter to those seeking solace or shelter or directions—it was easy to get lost in the desert. Like all the monks, she wore a tunic, pants, and dillo leather boots. Everything matched the color of the sand. The monks stationed in the desert also wore turbans and veils to protect their skin from the sun.
Shyla didn’t recognize the monk, but that wasn’t a surprise. The children raised in the monastery didn’t spend much time with the majority of the monks. Not until they turned eighteen circuits old and took the oath, pledging their loyalty to Parzival and the King of Koraha. Even after all this time, Shyla still wasn’t sure who exactly Parzival was. The monks worshipped the Sun Goddess, but Parzival must be the founder of the order. There were other monasteries throughout their world and all within a few kilometers of a major city. Not to teach or aid the people—what a radical concept—but to keep an eye on them as the King’s spies.
Slipping past the greeter, Shyla descended the stairs into cool semi-darkness. She relaxed, releasing all those monks from her magical hold. When she reached the monastery’s receiving room on level two, she sat on the floor, taking a few angles to recover. Unless she spent the rest of the sun jump here, she wouldn’t have enough energy to sneak past the monks on her way out. Guess they’d just be surprised to see her.
The monks embraced the sunlight and they’d installed long mirror pipes throughout the monastery to bring the light from the surface to the depths. Warm golden light shone in the area set aside for visitors. It appeared they weren’t expecting visitors this sun jump, as normally a couple monks stood guard in here, ensuring no one wandered into private areas or tried to enter one of the four Rooms of Knowledge. They protected knowledge like a miser hoarding coins. Shyla never understood why. Everyone should have equal access, but you had to be a monk to enter those rooms—with one exception. She was allowed to enter two.
Once she regained some of her strength, she headed down to Hanif’s office on level eleven. She used the look away command on the few people she encountered. Influencing one person seemed easy compared to the twelve on the surface.
Hanif’s door was ajar. She’d never seen it closed. Voices drifted from the opening. The conversation went from an undecipherable murmur to clear speech as she neared. She stopped outside, debating whether she should wait here or retreat to give her father some privacy. As she backed away, she caught a snippet of the discussion.
“…Water Prince is not pleased,” said a familiar male voice.
She froze and tried to place the voice. Its deep timbre stirred fear in her heart.
“It’s not my concern if the Water Prince is pleased or not,” Hanif said.
“It should be. Especially if he decides to withhold your water rations.”
“The King would not be pleased by your threat, Captain.”
Clamping a hand over her mouth, Shyla blocked her gasp. Captain Yates! The man who had replaced Rendor as the prince’s captain of the guard. What was he doing here?
“By the time the King learns of your hardship, it will be too late,” Yates said. “Just tell us where the sun-kissed is and we’ll stop bothering you.”
“For the fifth time, Captain, I do not know where she it.”
“I do not believe you,” Yates said.
An irritated sigh. “You’re welcome to search the monastery. If you find her, we will not interfere.”
Four
What colossally bad timing. Shyla needed to leave the monastery right away. Except she didn’t have a great deal of energy. Avoiding the captain as he searched shouldn’t be too difficult, but she needed to stay hidden from everyone so they didn’t have to lie about knowing her location.
“You’ll allow us to search the Rooms of Knowledge?” Yates asked.
“No. They are off-limits, but you can look everywhere else,” Hanif replied.
“That’s ridiculous. She could be hiding in one of them.”
“She isn’t.”
“I can’t take your word for it.”
They continued to argue, but Shyla tuned them out. Maybe she could wait until Yates left and then hide in Hanif’s office, where no one would think to look for her. Then it hit her. She’d been thinking like a sun-kissed, hiding and scurrying away. Not like Shyla Sun-Kissed, leader of the Invisible Sword.
Making a bold—stupid?—decision, Shyla strode into Hanif’s office as if she did it every sun jump.
“Hello, Captain Yates. I hear you’re looking for me,” she said.
Poor Hanif’s face drained of all color while his mouth dropped open. Yates jumped from his seat and brandished his sword in an impressive display of speed.
Yates aimed the tip of his blade at Shyla’s throat. “You’re under arrest.”
Not as tall as Rendor, but just as muscular with thick arms and broad shoulders, Yates radiated menace. She met his gaze and read his soul.
Excitement sizzled through him. He had finally caught the cursed sun-kissed. After all the failures, the prince would be very pleased. Yates just knew she was hiding in the monastery despite the prince’s claims she wouldn’t be that stupid.
Shyla pressed her lips together. Not stupid enough to hide here, but idiotic enough to come visit the same sun jump as the captain.
“Care to explain this?” Yates asked Hanif.
“I…” Hanif shot her a panicked glance. “What are you doing here?”
“Come on, don’t try that nonsense,” Yates said.
“I wanted to surprise you,” she said to her father.
“Mission accomplished.”
She smiled then concentrated on the captain, pushing her magic at him. “Captain Yates, you searched the monastery and didn’t find me.”
“What are you talking about? You’re standing right here.”
Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so confident. She glanced at his neck; he wasn’t wearing a torque. Increasing her efforts, she tried again. “You searched and didn’t find me.”
“I did?” he asked with a hint of confusion, fighting to remember. The tip of his sword dipped down. It snapped back. “No. You’re here.”
Son of a sand demon, the man was fighting back. Perhaps she could recruit him. And perhaps she could fly. Both scenarios were equally likely at this point.
Gathering all her strength, she gazed right into his dark brown eyes. “You searched. You found nothing. The monks are not lying to you.”
“I…searched.”
“Yes.”
“No sign of the sun-kissed?”
She pressed, driving the command home with all her might. “Yes. She’s not here. Say goodbye to Hanif, thank him for his time, and leave.”
Yates sheathed his sword, turned to Hanif, thanked him for his time, and left.
<
br /> Hanif stared at Shyla with a combination of awe and horror. “That was truly impressive.”
She tried to respond, but the floor underneath her feet dropped away like the edge of a sand dune. Darkness rushed up and buried her.
Warm and comfortable under the fur, Shyla snuggled in deeper. It’d been ages since she’d slept on a decent cushion. Plus every muscle in her body ached as if she’d been shoveling sand in the hot sun. Her heavy limbs required too much effort to move. All were excellent reasons to go back to sleep. So she did.
Voices woke her the second time. She instantly recognized the deep unhappy rumble. Just how long had she slept? Prying an eye open, she spotted Rendor interrogating the poor monk who’d been assigned to watch over her. Rendor still wore his sun cloak. The hot anise scent of the desert wafted from him. Sweat dampened the hair around his forehead. He must have just arrived. The sand clock read angle twenty. That explained his glower. Shyla had slept for an entire sun jump.
“I’m okay, Rendor,” she said. Her voice rasped as if sand coated her tongue.
When Rendor turned his attention to her, the young monk just about swayed with relief. “I’ll go inform Hanif that you’re awake.” The man bolted.
“What happened?” Rendor asked, striding over to her.
She struggled to sit up. He helped, steadying her. His large hand warmed her shoulder. Glancing around, she searched for her pack. It was on the floor next to the cushion. Understanding, Rendor swept it up and handed it to her. She fumbled for her water skin. Empty. Shyla wilted.
Rendor grunted, pulled his from his belt, and gave it to her. The warm water quenched the fire in her throat. Ah.
“Now are you ready to tell me what happened?” he asked.
She stabbed a finger at him. “Stop looming. I’m fine.” When he didn’t move, she snapped, “Sit down and I’ll tell you.”
The aggrieved sigh he released said he didn’t spend the entire darkness worrying about her just to be scolded for being concerned. That was quite a bit of information for a sigh. Shyla strengthened her mental shield. No need to read Rendor’s thoughts when it was clear he was upset. Instead of arguing with her, he shrugged off his cloak and settled next to her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, taking his hand in hers.
The tension eased from his shoulders.
“I’m just mad at myself for being stupid. No, don’t bother protesting,” she said even though he hadn’t. But that earned her a small smile. “I exhausted myself and almost got caught.” She told him about wanting to practice using her magic on the monks and then confronting Captain Yates. “He’s strong-willed and I just managed to convince him.”
“That’s good you convinced him,” Rendor said. “Yates is stubborn, persistent, and capable, which is why the Water Prince chose him to replace me. He would have harassed the monks until they proved to him you weren’t here.”
“Which begs the question, why are you here?” Hanif asked from the doorway. He wore a loose tan tunic and pants. The light-colored fabric contrasted nicely against his golden-brown skin—the same shade as Shyla’s. A wide dillo leather belt was cinched around his waist. Gray eyes glinted with curiosity.
“Is anyone with you?” she asked.
“No.”
“Then come in and shut the door. Please,” she added when he scowled. This was his monastery after all. Then she dug in her pack and removed the four torques. “I hid the other one in the Second Room of Knowledge after we rescued Jayden, but I think all five of these should be stored in the Fourth Room.” She gave them to Hanif.
“What do they do?” he asked.
“It’s better if you don’t know.”
“Are they dangerous?”
“Not to you. It’s extremely important that no one knows they’re here.”
Hanif quirked an eyebrow. “That sounds ominous.”
She remembered when Yates threatened to cut off the monks’ water supply. “If you’d rather not hide them, I understand.”
“No. They’ll be safe here. After all, we hid The Eyes for thousands of circuits.”
“What if the Water Prince stops sending you water? Or the priestess refuses to give you food?” she asked.
Hanif gave her a sly smile. “You don’t really think we’re that dependent on them, do you?”
“But Yates said…” Her tired brain churned through his comment. “The King supplies you, too?”
“Not quite.”
“They have their own sources for food and water,” Rendor said.
Hanif’s gaze snapped to him. “Does the Water Prince know?”
“No. But I lived here long enough to figure it out.”
“Wait. You’ve lived here for what…forty-odd sun jumps, but I grew up here. I lived here for eighteen circuits. Why didn’t I know?” Was she that obtuse?
“You were a child for most of your time here,” Rendor said. “I’m an adult and trained to investigate when things don’t add up. I can put the clues together.”
Shyla liked to believe she was capable of the same thing. She had earned a living these last two circuits uncovering lost ruins, ancient temples, and artifacts. Yet she missed it. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked Hanif.
“Because you never swore the oath and became a monk.”
That was his go-to excuse for everything.
“And…uh…can’t you just…” He tapped a finger on his temple.
“I can read your mind. But I respect your privacy. Unless you’re saying I shouldn’t?” She leaned forward.
Hanif stepped back, holding up his hands. “No, no. That’s an admirable policy.”
Score one for her. But she still couldn’t help feeling like an idiot because, once she actually thought about it, the clues were always there. “You have your own growing cavern.”
“We do. It’s small, but it will provide enough for the monastery if the Heliacal Priestess ever decides to cut us off.”
Excited now, she asked, “Can you show me?”
Hanif hesitated. “I suppose. Why do you want to see it?”
“I’m curious.” She told him about her plan to start one in their headquarters, which wasn’t as original of an idea as she’d thought.
“All right. We can grab that other torque and swing by the Fourth Room of Knowledge on our way.”
“After she eats,” Rendor said. Then to her, “You’ve been asleep for an entire sun jump.”
Now that he mentioned it, her stomach growled with hunger. Although she was quite capable of standing up, she let Rendor pull her to her feet. He frowned when she wobbled.
“Didn’t Jayden tell you where I was going?” she asked him.
“No. Only that you’d be back soon. I woke him up when you failed to return by darkness.” He crossed his massive arms.
Boys. To say the two of them didn’t get along was being kind. Jayden considered Rendor to be a low man in the Invisible Sword’s hierarchy. Rendor was used to giving orders, not taking them.
There was nothing she could do about it at the moment. The three of them stopped in the empty dining cavern for a meal. Since they were alone, she asked Hanif about the water. “Do you have your own well, too?”
“No.” He squirmed then sighed. “We exaggerate our numbers to the Water Prince so he sends us more water than we need. We stockpile the rest just in case. If he cut us off, we have enough to last until we can get word to the King of Koraha.”
That explained why he could spare a few jugs when the Invisible Sword moved to their new location. “Smart.”
“Not if the prince figures it out,” Hanif said, glancing at Rendor.
“The prince doesn’t keep track of things like that,” Rendor said. “The water accountant does. As long as you’re not being greedy, he probably won’t pick up on it.”
“That’s good to know.”
“I wonder if the Heliacal Priestess does it as well,” Shyla said. “She can’t be happy relying on the prince for water.” The two of them
were supposed to share equal power in the ruling of Zirdai, but the prince held a slight advantage since people couldn’t last more than three sun jumps without water. He also lived one level deeper than the priestess—another sticking point.
“I suspect the priestess has tapped into the aquifer,” Rendor said.
“Can we tap into it as well?” she asked. Being able to access the underground cavern filled with water would solve one of their many problems.
“No, we can not.” Amused, he leaned back as if waiting.
Had he been expecting her to ask about the prince’s water supply by now? Why wouldn’t he volunteer the information when she mentioned they were running out? She suspected it was due to his pride. If they treated him like a grunt only capable of shoveling sand, then he would act the part. “The aquifer is not within the city,” she guessed.
“It’s kilometers away, and the exact location and depth is kept secret.”
Of course. “But the location of the pipes that transport the water to Zirdai are not.”
“Correct. There are the ones that go into the prince’s rooms, but there are others that are used to fill the jugs and skins.”
“And they’re guarded.”
“All sun jump, three-hundred and sixty jumps a circuit.”
“That means the water dealers must bribe the guards.”
“Some do. Although the guards are only assigned the duty for short periods of time to limit that. Some dealers find other sources.”
Shyla resisted asking the obvious question—what other sources. Instead, she asked, “How would you obtain water for us?”
Rendor smiled and, damn, the man had a melt-your-insides smile. She almost forgot what they’d been discussing.
“I’d tap into the outflow pipes,” he said.
A strange word. “Outflow?”
“There’s plenty of water that flows through the prince’s level. A prime example is the fountains. You’ve seen those.”
More like gawked at them—a very decadent waste of precious resources. “Yes.”
“That water is collected and piped out of the city to eventually flow into another city’s aquifer,” Rendor continued. “There’s an entire network of aquifers and underground rivers throughout Koraha. But the key thing is that outflow water is still drinkable and, as far as I can tell, no one knows about it.”
The City of Zirdai Page 6
