“Oh my goodness, no,” Orla said when they asked her about a missing baby. “I haven’t heard anything about that. The deacons have done some questionable and downright horrific things over the circuits, but that’s a new low.” She paused. “I’d hate to think this of my fellow Zirdains, but there is a possibility that the babe was…donated by either a devout mother or a desperate one. We get many young mothers here who can no longer afford to pay taxes and tithes for two.”
In that case, the mother would be harder to find and probably wouldn’t want the baby returned to her. And that was another sad state of affairs that needed to be rectified. Children under the age of two circuits should be exempt from paying taxes and tithes. More guilt pressed on her shoulders as she wondered whether she was wasting time chasing after Rendor.
“Have you heard anything about large shipments of platinum?” Jayden asked.
Orla’s gray eyes gleamed. “We’ve heard rumors from Petula. She said a single platinum ring sold for fifteen osees.”
“Petula lives in my commune,” Jayden said. “I’ll go talk to her.”
Shyla noted that he still considered the commune on level sixty-two as his. Was that due to a lack of community within the Invisible Sword?
“What about Aphra or Banqui? Any word?” she asked Orla.
“Talk to Adair, he thought he spotted the woman.”
Ugh. Shyla would rather not. Adair had pushed her into an air shaft without warning her that there was a net twelve levels below to catch her. She glanced at Jayden. Did he remember helping to extract her from that net?
“We caught you fair and square.” He grinned. “You protested that you weren’t ours, and look what happened. You’re ours now.”
His statement caused a strange combination of emotions to tumble inside her. The Invisible Sword had become her family, yet she hadn’t gotten that reciprocal sense from them…well, not all of them. Perhaps if she’d put in more effort.
Shyla returned his smile. “Surprised?”
He laughed. “Aren’t you?”
“Very much.”
Before Jayden left to visit the commune on level sixty-two, Shyla gave him a handful of osees. “Please purchase some fresh food for the group.”
“You sure? Jerky is cheaper.”
“I’m sure.”
He hesitated but then nodded and called to Mojag, who was wrestling on the ground with a pack of small squealing children. The kids complained with one disappointed awww when Mojag trotted over to join Jayden.
Shyla searched the commune for Adair. As she walked through the various common areas and gathering places, she grappled with her emotions. Adair hadn’t tried to kill her, he’d just been spiteful. Too bad that logic failed to change her opinion of the man. She spotted him talking with a group of young men. He still had his short black beard that matched the color of his tight curly hair. Thick eyebrows arched over dark brown eyes.
He scowled when she approached but excused himself from the conversation.
“What do you want?” he asked.
To remind you we are on the same side, but she clamped down on that comment. Instead, she asked about Aphra. “Have you seen her?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
He stared at her as if waiting. It took her a moment to understand. She dug into her pack and handed him a coin.
“The treasure hunter is now shoveling sand for Rohana, the Water Prince’s new archeologist.”
That was unexpected. Shyla had thought Aphra would avoid Rohana. Also why hadn’t Fadey known that? He was Rohana’s assistant. Unless Aphra was wearing a disguise and avoiding him… Considering the treasure hunters knew he sold them out, it would make sense.
“Do you know if they’re out on a dig?” she asked Adair.
“Do I look like I care?”
Oh no, he wasn’t getting away with that. She stepped closer, capturing his full attention. Pushing her power through her gaze, she said, “Let me remind you who you’re dealing with.”
Sweat.
His derision turned to fear as heat swept through him. Moisture collected along his hairline and inched down his back.
“A simple no would have sufficed.” She turned and strode away. Only when she was well across the room did she glance over her shoulder and stop the command.
It was petty, but oh so satisfying. She should do it more often. In fact, it was time for her to be more…pushy? A leader? Confident? All of them? However, she needed to find the right balance between asserting herself without abusing her power.
It was angle one-ninety. If the diggers had returned from a site, they’d be in the dining cavern on level nineteen. Shyla covered her hair with her wrap, pulling the material low to keep her face in shadow. There were enough people around that she could blend in as she ascended the nineteen levels.
Keeping an eye out for Rendor, she scanned everyone she passed. They didn’t so much as glance in her direction. At least the big man would stand out. Or would he? He’d managed to get around just fine the few times he’d been in the city since becoming a wanted man. How would she— She almost groaned aloud. And to think she had just decided to use her powers more.
Shyla lowered her mental shield. Her prior connection to Rendor may come in handy as his soul would be the only one she could read in the city. Now she avoided eye contact so she could concentrate on finding Rendor’s soul.
Once she neared the dining cavern, she slowed. In order to see inside, she’d have to bypass the two deacons guarding the entrance. She gathered her will and directed it at them.
Look away.
They both peered to the left as if fascinated with the very air. Moving to the right, she entered the cavern. By this time, many of the tables were empty. However, a rancorous group occupied the back corner. Their rumpled, dusty, and ripped clothing gave them away—diggers. Before anyone could wonder why she was there, she strode over to a water jug, filled her water skin, and left.
Once out of sight, she considered the tunnels leading away from the cavern. If the diggers headed straight back to their quarters on level thirteen, they would most likely take a direct route. Shyla found an ideal intersection and waited. There were plenty of druks hanging on the walls, giving off enough light. When footsteps sounded close, she’d project the look away command.
After various random people used the tunnel, the diggers arrived. The noise of their arrival was unmistakable. When they reached her, Shyla pushed another command at them without stopping.
Not here.
Not here.
Not here.
She scanned each face as they crossed the intersection. Aphra almost slipped by her. The woman had cut her long brown hair short and walked slightly hunched over. Not like the confident and cocky treasure hunter that Shyla remembered.
Once Aphra neared, Shyla needed her—and only her—to break off from the group. It would be tricky. Projecting the image of a water skin, Shyla aimed her power.
Forgot.
Aphra straightened and stopped.
“What’s wrong?” asked the digger next to her.
“I forgot my water skin. Go on ahead, I’ll catch up.” Aphra waved her companions on and turned around.
They countered with good natured insults. When they were out of sight, Shyla dropped the not here command and called to Aphra.
Aphra whipped around so fast her hair flew up. “Scorching hells, where did you come from?” Then a beat later, “You shouldn’t be here, you’re wanted—”
“By everyone. I know.”
She cocked a hip and squinted at Shyla. “Do you have a death wish?”
“No. Do you? You’re working for the Water Prince’s archeologist.”
Aphra grimaced. “It’s called hiding in plain sight and it’s my only option other than being arrested and tortured. I don’t have enough coin to leave. Besides, who’d think to look for me there?” Her forehead creased with apprehension. “How did you find me? Did that son of a sand d
emon, Fadey—”
“No. He didn’t tell me. And I doubt he noticed you. He seemed pretty wrapped up in his own misery.”
“Good. You didn’t answer my question.”
Shyla considered, then decided to go with the truth. “I asked the vagrants to be on the lookout for you.”
“Why?”
“Because of your connections. I’ve some sweets to sell.”
“Ah.” Then she shook her head. “Can’t help you. I’d be caught for sure. I’m barely surviving as it is and risk being exposed every sun jump. Once I’ve saved enough osees, I’m outta here.”
Not what Shyla wanted to hear. Without coin, the Invisible Sword couldn’t afford to feed themselves let alone help others in need. “Is there anyone still selling treasures on the black market?”
Aphra gave her a sly smile. “I may have a contact you can sell to directly, but I’m having trouble remembering the name.” She scratched her head.
Cute. Shyla handed her an osee. “Maybe this will jog your memory.”
Aphra scrunched up her pudgy nose. “Sorry, still not able to recall it.”
Shyla briefly considered just taking the information from the hunter, but the woman was just trying to survive. However, she would ensure Aphra didn’t lie to her by reading the woman’s surface thoughts and emotions.
Handing her two more osees, she met Aphra’s gaze and said, “I’m sure this will do the trick.”
“Ah, yes. It’s Professor Emeline from Catronia University.”
“She’s still here?” It seemed like it was over a circuit ago that the Water Prince mentioned meeting with the visiting professor. But it was only fifty, maybe sixty, sun jumps ago.
“She’s a guest lecturer at the university, but I think she’s due to leave soon.”
Aphra was telling the truth, giving Shyla some hope. “Where is she staying?”
“In the visiting professor quarters on level forty-two. Right next to the entrance to the library. Do you know where it is?”
“Yes. What does the woman look like?”
“She’s about five centimeters taller than you and thin—skeletal thin. And she has a long narrow nose. You can’t miss that nose.”
“Great. Thank you.”
“Good luck.”
“You, too.” Hopefully everything would go well for the ex-treasure hunter. Then it hit her—perhaps Aphra would want to join them. She’d be a valuable asset to the organization. The woman had always treated Shyla like an equal and not some pariah. Plus Aphra wouldn’t have to worry about surviving on her own. “Wait. Do you want to join us?”
“The vagrants? No, thank you.”
“No, we’re not…” How to explain? And could Shyla trust her? She kept a light touch on Aphra’s emotions. If she spooked and planned to betray them, Shyla could erase Aphra’s memories of their encounter. “We’re the Invisible Sword.” Shyla braced for laughter.
But Aphra peered at her. “Like in Tamburah’s time?”
One of the benefits of being a successful treasure hunter was that you became an expert in history.
“Yes.”
“You found The Eyes.”
Aphra had been one of the few people who’d actually paid attention to a sun-kissed. Shyla stepped close to a druk, testing the woman’s observational skills. “I did.”
She studied Shyla. “You have pretty blue eyes. What would I have to do as a member?”
As briefly as possible, Shyla explained what they hoped to do.
Now the woman laughed. “Is that all?”
“It’s going to take some time.”
“You ain’t kidding. Do your members get paid?”
“No. You get shelter, food, water, and a good feeling by helping others. And if we overthrow the Water Prince, the new leader will be in need of an experienced and trustworthy archeologist.”
“If.” She huffed. “And the risks?”
“Besides the obvious ones?”
“Yeah, sorry. Let me think about it.”
Shyla didn’t sense any duplicitous emotions. “All right. If you decide to join us, we’ll be leaving Zirdai at angle zero, but not this upcoming one, the next one. Meet us near the north exit.”
“Okay.” Aphra hurried to catch up with the other diggers.
Shyla wondered if she’d just made a huge mistake. Would Aphra sell her out? The woman could earn enough coins to not only travel but live in luxury in her new city by telling either the prince or priestess where to find the sun-kissed. Aphra was telling the truth about the professor, and she seemed genuine in considering Shyla’s invitation, but Shyla hadn’t delved any deeper into the woman’s secrets. Why not? Because she was too nice. She didn’t want to invade anyone’s privacy. Shyla needed to start being more…ruthless. Lives were at stake!
Shyla raced down to level forty-two, hoping to get to Zirdai’s only university before the students and faculty retreated to their rooms for the rest of the darkness. She located the guest quarters then found a dark shadow where she could wait and watch. The majority of people who walked by were either deep in conversation or intent on a scroll in their hands. And the few who were more observant suddenly had the desire to look elsewhere when they passed.
She tried not to think about Rendor. Of course his image immediately pervaded her mind. His harsh words sounded in her ear. Pain and loss filled the vast empty space inside her. Shyla clamped down on those emotions. She’d find him and somehow convince him to return. The right words would come to her by then.
Professor Emeline entered her room at angle two-forty. Aphra had been right, the skinny woman was easy to recognize. It appeared as if someone had grabbed the tip of her nose and yanked it straight down.
Once the woman closed the door, Shyla debated her next move. She did have something to offer the professor, but should she? Aphra had said her contact’s employer studied the artifacts to learn about their history, which was better than the Water Prince who kept everything in his private collection. However, the Invisible Swords needed coins and, if they overthrew the prince, all those treasures would be put on display and made available to the historians. Shyla would make sure of it.
When the corridor was empty, Shyla emerged from her shadow and knocked on the stained glass.
Professor Emeline slid the door open a crack. One eye regarded her. “Yes?”
“I’ve something that you might be interested in.”
The eye narrowed. “Like what?”
“An artifact of great historical significance.”
“Why come to me?”
“Aphra sent me.”
The door slid wider. “Come in.”
After Shyla entered, the professor glanced down the tunnel both ways before closing the door. Trol lanterns lit the room. Their bright yellow light illuminated a decent-sized living area with a desk and work table. She guessed the open archway beyond led to her sleeping quarters.
Emeline studied Shyla, her gaze sweeping her from head to toe. And by the slight sneer, Shyla guessed she was found lacking in some regard.
“What do you have?” the professor asked.
“I’ve a map of Gorgain’s temple.” The scroll had been in her pack since her original client accused Shyla of murder and theft. Although a little wrinkled, it was still legible.
“So?” She feigned a yawn.
“So, the location of his crypt is clearly marked.”
This caused a sharpening of the woman’s interest. “And his diamond and gold crown and ruby torque?”
“Still buried with him. You need only to dig it out.”
“Then your map is worthless.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your Water Prince has made it impossible for anyone to work a dig site within thirty kilometers of Zirdai except for his archeologist.”
Seven hells.
“But if you bring me that crown and torque, and it’s authentic, I’d be happy to pay you more coins than you’ve seen in your lifetime.”
Perfe
ct, except Shyla didn’t have a crew to dig. Actually, she did, but they had so much to do already. And they hadn’t helped anyone yet. Every sun jump people were being tortured, they were dying, and the Invisible Swords were shoveling sand.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Shyla said.
“Don’t wait too long. I’m leaving for home in twenty sun jumps.” Emeline hustled Shyla out the door.
The visit hadn’t gone as she’d expected. Shyla spent most of the trip back to Orla’s commune trying to figure out a fast way to reach Gorgain’s treasures. Before she ducked down the tunnel that would lead her to the back entrance, Shyla paused and checked that no one had followed her or was watching the tunnel.
She reached with her magic and sensed—Rendor! Spinning around, she peered into every shadow, trying to determine his location. A brief moment of alarm flared from him before he moved away, increasing the distance between them until she could no longer sense him.
Son of a sand demon. Shyla wanted to call after him, but the hard stone walls would echo and amplify the sound. People would come to investigate. Plus the heartbreaking fact that he’d seen her and run away…that said a lot.
Disheartened, she returned to Orla’s. The commune was quiet as most of the children were asleep. Mojag and Jayden hadn’t come back yet. Not hungry, but realizing it’d been a while since she’d eaten, Shyla nibbled on a roll of gamelu jerky as she spread the map of Gorgain’s temple on a table. Better to work than to replay Rendor’s rejection.
She used four druks to hold the edges down. The extra light also helped to illuminate the faded ink. Tracing the tunnel the grave diggers used to escape the crypt, she found an entry point into the temple then calculated just how much sand would have built up over thousands of circuits—approximately six or seven meters. The air would be stale, perhaps even toxic or explosive or both. And there was always the danger of a cave-in. And booby traps.
Groaning, she rubbed her face. This was not her area of expertise. She needed Banqui. Not knowing where he was or if he even was alive dragged on her. He could be confined in one of the priestess’s chapels or in one of the prince’s black cells on level ninety-eight, waiting for her to rescue him again. Or he could be hanging upside down in one of the prince’s special rooms that were on the same level as the cells. That possibility gave her nightmares.
The City of Zirdai Page 13
