The City of Zirdai by Maria V. Snyder

Eleven

Seven hells. An eight-person unit was too many for Shyla to influence right now. If she’d had more sleep, then maybe. She still couldn’t believe the King of Koraha had given the prince permission to enter all the Rooms of Knowledge. She wondered how close the prince and King were. He had to have impressed the King at some point to win that dispensation. Had the prince sent a message to the King about Shyla? Did she have to worry about his men coming to Zirdai? Perhaps she should concentrate on surviving the problem at hand.

“Is there any place to hide down past level twelve?” Having grown up in the monastery, she knew there weren’t any hiding places in the upper levels. Not ones that Hanif or one of the other monks hadn’t found her in pretty quick.

“No. There’s nothing. Sorry,” Easan said.

“Do you have any rooms with loose sand?”

“Not below level one. But if you need sand…” He pointed to the sand clock. “We’ve a bunch of those.”

Not enough for her to hide under. Plus it would look suspicious—a mound of sand right in the middle of an otherwise clean room. She sorted through her childhood memories. Perhaps something would trigger a brilliant plan. No luck. “How long have they been here?”

“About five angles. They’ve already searched the top six levels. Good thing I checked your room first.”

“Any gaps between units that I can slip through?”

“They’re being rather thorough. What do you want to do?”

Only one thing to do. “I’ll find a way to stay hidden until they leave.”

“Where?”

“It’s better you don’t know.” Shyla grabbed her pack and headed to the First Room of Knowledge. Hopefully being able to go between there and the map room would allow her to remain undetected. She had enough energy to hide the shortcut from one or even two, three if she was desperate. Although she doubted that many would find the hiding spot under the table. The maze of shelves and sudden dead ends should be confusing to the guards. Overall, not the best plan, but it was all she had.

At least she didn’t have to guess when the unit entered. Their boisterous voices echoed off the stone walls and their irreverent and smug comments grated on her sensibilities. They didn’t belong here and they knew it. Hanif must be beside himself over being forced to allow the guards into the Rooms of Knowledge.

Then a voice that sent a knife of fear straight to her heart said, “Fan out, and don’t trust your eyes. Search with your hands. I’ll wait here in case you flush the sun- kissed out.”

She shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course Yates would be with this unit. He wouldn’t be able to resist going into a place that was normally off-limits to him. Not waiting any longer, she hurried to the map room. Once inside, Shyla crouched to the side of the opening and just out of sight. If she sensed anyone nearby, she’d project a solid wall.

As she waited, she counted her heartbeats, which seemed to echo loudly in the room. It didn’t take long for the sounds of boots and voices to reach her. Two, maybe three guards approached the table.

A male voice said, “If I encounter one more spider web, I’m gonna charge the monks a cleaning fee.”

“I don’t know what all the fuss is about these rooms,” said another man. “There’s nothing here but a bunch of dusty old scrolls and tablets.”

“What did you expect?” a woman asked.

“Golden chalices, bowls filled with precious gems, ancient artifacts.”

“You certainly have quite the imagination,” she said, and her tone implied it wasn’t a compliment.

Weak druk light pierced the map room. Shyla gathered her magic as the light brightened.

“Ugh, there’s a gap under the table. Check it out, Gafna,” the first man ordered.

“Why me?”

“You’re smaller than we are.”

“And smarter, too,” she said, but then she sighed. “You owe me.”

A scrape of a boot was followed by a grunt. Shyla aimed her magic at the woman.

Wall.

But without making eye contact, Shyla had no way to know if her magic was working.

Wall.

“There’s nothing here,” the woman said.

Phew.

“Did you do a hand check?”

Oh no.

Another sigh. “You really want me to get bitten by a spider, don’t you?”

“Better you than me.”

Solid wall.

A hand poked through the shortcut. Shyla bit down on a curse.

“Huh? What the— Uri, get down here and bring that druk!”

“What did you find?” Uri asked.

Shyla sent her magic to the man as well.

Solid wall.

“I don’t know, you big lug. Give me the light.”

A druk was thrust into the map room. Shyla backed away from the shortcut.

Not here.

The female guard stuck her head in. “That was weird.”

“What in seven hells, Gafna. Where’s your head?”

“In some kind of room.” She withdrew. “See for yourself.”

“That’s a solid wall.”

“It looks like one, but it’s not. Isn’t this what Captain Yates said to be on the lookout for?”

This wasn’t going to end well, but Shyla didn’t know what else to do.

Not here.

A big hand with calluses appeared followed by a scowling guard’s face. His surprise didn’t last long. He retreated.

“Block that opening,” he ordered Gafna. “I’m going to find out about that room.”

Not here.

Gafna reappeared, but she stopped so half of her body remained in the First Room. She held her sword and scanned the octagonal space.

Sleep.

The woman blinked a few times and yawned, but she shook off the command. Shyla increased her will.

Sleep.

Gafna’s head dropped. Not wasting time, Shyla raced over to the double stained-glass doors. They were locked. Scorching hells. After a moment of panic, she remembered that this room was guarded like all the others. Reaching out, she sensed the two monks on the other side.

Open doors.

Nothing.

Open doors.

“Hey, what are you doing?” a muffled voice on the other side said.

A key rasped in the keyhole. “Unlocking the door.”

“Why?”

She didn’t have time for this. Using more of her waning energy, she pushed it at the two monks.

Open doors.

A metallic snap broke the quiet. The doors slid apart. Both monks peeked inside.

Not here.

She darted into the hallway.

Lock doors.

They did as instructed. Shyla hurried away. She was on level nine. And probably so were the other units. If she only encountered a few guards she could slip by them and get higher. If not…she’d be caught. Best to think positive.

Voices alerted her before she turned the corner. She skidded to a stop and backtracked to the intersection she’d just passed. Ducking down the left tunnel, she pressed against the wall just as the group walked by. Hanif led Captain Yates and four guards. They were so focused on getting to the map room that none glanced her way. She remembered to breathe. After waiting for what seemed like a couple thousand angles, she ventured out and tried to find a route free of guards.

She managed to reach level seven, but Yates must have brought more than a platoon because there were plenty of guards stationed at the various ramps to the upper levels. Too many for her to handle. Besides, it was still too hot to be higher than level six. Shyla considered borrowing a robe and trying to sneak by them, but as she watched from a hidden spot, the guards yanked the hoods down on all the monks who had them up.

Her only option was to stay hidden until the surface cooled enough for her to use one of the escape tunnels. Except she soon learned that guards blocked those as well. She had to grudgingly admit Captain Yates wasn’t an idiot. Panic churned and bubbled up her throat. She swallowed it down.

Hoping the guards had already searched level seven, Shyla sought a place to hide. The kitchen and dining area were nearby, but second meal would be in full swing. Perhaps if she found a robe, she could blend in with the monks there. Too bad there weren’t robes just lying around.

She spent the next ten or twenty angles dodging guards. Each close encounter sapped her strength a little more. At this rate, they would find her curled up in a corner sound asleep.

At a loss for what to do, she kept moving until she realized groups of monks had joined in the search for her. They weren’t obvious about it, but she sensed their intent to find her. Too tired to figure out why, and hoping it was for a good reason, she trailed one of them until she thought it was safe to reveal her presence.

The five of them quickly surrounded her—not to attack, but to hide her. Without a word, they headed to the kitchen where they left her. Huh? After glancing briefly in her direction, the staff returned to their duties. The savory scent of roast gamelu enticed her to the stew pot despite her unsettled stomach. She helped herself. Why not? This might be her last meal.

Soon a group of three monks entered the kitchen. This time, she recognized Kaveri.

“We don’t have much time,” Kaveri said.

An understatement. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve a plan to help you.” Kaveri took off her robe. Underneath she wore a plain tunic and pants much like the ones the citizens wore. Actually, very similar to what Shyla wore.

“Here.” Kaveri handed her the robe. “Put that on.”

“But—”

“Trust me.”

And since the woman was her mother, Shyla did.

Kaveri handed a pair of scissors to another monk. “Be quick.”

Shyla watched in fascinated horror as the monk cut Kaveri’s hair short. Long strands of beautiful yellow hair floated to the floor. “You…”

“Don’t worry, it’ll grow back,” Kaveri said, unconcerned.

Unlike Shyla who had been upset when the deacon had chopped off her long locks. Soon Kaveri’s hairstyle matched Shyla’s. And a strange sensation swept through her as the resemblance between the two of them was undeniable. Shyla stared into her future.

“You…” Again words failed her as Shyla tried to speak.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Kaveri said, cupping Shyla’s cheek for a moment. “Now, let me tell you the plan.”

As far as plans went, this one was rather simple. But it put Kaveri at considerable risk. Shyla argued that Captain Yates might arrest the woman out of spite.

“He can try, but he won’t succeed. I am a monk.” Kaveri’s confidence was unshakable.

Shyla wondered if she’d ever be that…comfortable with her role in their world. At least, if she survived, Shyla might learn more about the woman who gave birth to her. The two of them crept back up to level seven. By now, enough time had passed and the surface would be safe…sort of. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but it wouldn’t kill her either.

They stopped at a collection station before splitting up to implement Kaveri’s scheme at one of the ramps to level six. From a hidden vantage point, Shyla held her breath and watched as her mother rounded a corner as if being pursued. Kaveri halted when she spotted the six guards. They stared at each other for a few stunned heartbeats. Then Kaveri spun on her heel and dashed away.

“It’s the sun-kissed,” one guard cried. “Baru and Lute, stay here. The rest with me.”

Four guards raced after Kaveri, leaving two behind.

If all went according to plan, Kaveri would lead them deep into the monastery before allowing them to catch her.

The guards that remained at the ramp buzzed with a new sense of purpose. Shyla waited about three angles. Covering her hair with the robe’s hood, she hefted the heavy bucket and strolled toward the two guards.

They wrinkled their noses at the foul odor and parted, allowing Shyla to pass without questioning her or even looking closely at her. She didn’t even need to use her magic. In fact, everyone gave her a wide berth as she carried that noxious bucket up to the growing cavern on level six. Wow. Who knew the power of poop?

She set the container in the back room for Kaveri to turn the contents into fertilizer. On the way out, she stopped and bent close to one of the plants, breathing in its fresh scent to purge the stink of excrement from her nose and lungs. Then she hurried to the surface. The temperature increased with each level, until she pushed through the hot thickness.

When she reached the surface building, the sunlight blinded her. And the heat immediately closed in, baking the sweat from her skin. Invisible fire burned with each inhalation. Soon her eyes adjusted to the brilliance and she changed into her sun cloak, leaving Kaveri’s robe on the bench. The monks who guarded the entrance hadn’t returned yet.

Out in the full sunshine, the velbloud fibers of her cloak helped lessen the intensity of the sun, but the desert’s bright colors hurt. Which didn’t make sense. Colors shouldn’t be painful.

Yet, as she sloughed through the blistering sand, various aches woke. The fiery press of heat on her head and shoulders increased her fatigue. And the effort to erase her footprints caused her muscles to tremble so much she had to quit hiding them once she was half a kilometer away. The distance to the Invisible Sword’s headquarters stretched toward impossible. She’d almost halted in defeat. But, in order to keep moving, Shyla set small goals.

Just get to the top of this dune.

Ten steps.

Twelve more steps.

Just reach that patch of shade.

The heat had thinned slightly by the time she arrived at the entrance. She staggered to a stop, gathering the last dregs of her energy to mount the ladder. The lookout climbed from the temple. He jerked in surprise when he noticed her standing there.

“Are you all right?” Balin asked.

“I’m fine,” she croaked.

Dubious, he raised his thick black eyebrows at her. “What are you doing out here?”

She considered a sarcastic reply, but it was a legitimate question. “I just came from the monastery.” Overlooking how his eyebrows lifted even higher—a rather amazing feat—she gestured to her tracks and explained about the guards. “Keep an eye in this direction in case they find them and follow me. I’ll send someone to erase them.”

“All right.”

If the guards appeared in the distance, Balin would sound the alarm, and those who had magic would cover the entrance, the ventilation shafts, and any tracks with sand. That was, if any of them were here. Between the city and the dig site, there weren’t many around. More reason to increase their numbers.

After the ridiculously complex task of descending the ladder, Shyla found Gurice, ignored her questions, and sent her to the surface. Then she gulped half of the water in her water skin and collapsed onto her mat with a groan.

Despite her near miss with the guards and the exhaustion that had sunk deep into her bones, she still wished she’d stolen a sleeping cushion from the monks.

“You do understand that you’re not only endangering yourself but the rest of us as well?” Gurice asked.

“I’m aware of the risks,” Shyla said, swallowing down a sigh. No surprise that she’d encountered resistance to her plan to visit Tamburah’s judgment chamber.

They sat at a table in the common room. Shyla had slept for a long time, scaring everyone. Gurice had been about to send for Zhek when she woke. Even now, after another full sun jump of rest, fatigue still tugged on her muscles.

“Let me come with you, then,” Gurice said. “Or take Titus. He has magic.”

“No, you’re both needed here in case our hideout is discovered.”

“At least take a couple of the acolytes with you. Jayden will kill me if he finds out you went alone.”

Shyla considered. “All right.”

Gurice pressed a hand to her chest. “You can be reasonable. Praise the goddess.”

“Cute.”

“Finally, a challenge,” Lian said. “I’m sick of shoveling sand.”

“My blisters have blisters,” Jaft quipped.

“All part of being a member of a not-so-secret organization,” Elek said.

“Are you done complaining?” Rae asked her friends. “Shyla hasn’t finished explaining the mission.”

Shyla didn’t mind their banter, although she’d never tell them that or they wouldn’t shut up. Their easy friendship and loyalty was what she hoped all the members of the Invisible Sword would eventually feel toward each other. A big family, working together, fighting together, helping others.

They had agreed to accompany her to Tamburah’s temple without knowing all the details. Dressed and ready to go, they had met her in the common room at angle three-fifty-five for a quick briefing.

“This shouldn’t take long,” Shyla said. “The hardest part will probably be finding the escape tunnel.”

“Are you expecting trouble?” Elek asked.

“I’m always expecting trouble. However, I’m hoping that we’ll be disappointed.”

They left at angle zero. Shyla erased their tracks. The action reminded her of her escape from the monastery. It was too dangerous to send a runner to check on what happened there after she’d left three sun jumps ago. Worry for her parents and the monks pulsed in her chest. If the Water Prince contacted the King about her, it could mean trouble for the monastery. Would he send his elite soldiers to investigate the dangerous sun-kissed? What if the King ordered the monks to turn Shyla over to the Water Prince if she ever returned? Best to stay away for a while. She’d wait until Jayden and Mojag returned from Zirdai and ask if they’d heard any rumors.

Despite their earlier chatter, the four ex-acolytes settled into a quiet, highly focused team, scanning the desert for potential problems. Jaft and Elek carried shovels. A sense of readiness and competence oozed from all of them, their smooth gaits and graceful movements reminding Shyla of predators.

As predicted, the hatch covering the safety tunnel was difficult to locate. It’d been thirty-nine sun jumps since it was last used and the constant blowing sand had reburied it. They used the handles of the shovels to puncture the loose sand, listening for a hollow thunk that would mean they’d hit the hatch.

“Found it,” Jaft shouted.

They removed the sand and opened the hatch. Stale air rushed out. Shyla dropped into the hole first, ensuring the tunnel hadn’t collapsed since it wasn’t part of the temple. Strong emotions welled as she shone the druk on the sand walls. The last time she was here, she’d run from the deacons and embraced the sun, knowing full well the heat would kill her.

“It’s clear,” she called.

Soon the others followed her deeper into the temple. They reached the faces of the dead. Carved into the sandstone were the eyeless visages of Tamburah’s victims. Their mouths were open in silent wails of anguish, desperation, and fear. The carvings covered the walls from floor to ceiling.

“Is anyone else creeped out by all these people?” Jaft asked.

“Even though they don’t have eyes, it seems like they’re staring at you,” Rae said with a shudder. “Are they just decoration?”

“No,” Shyla said. “They were real people who King Tamburah judged as not trustworthy. He removed their eyes as punishment. Proud of his handiwork, he had an artist carve their faces into the walls so he could admire them. Banqui called this one of the hallways of the dead.”

“You mean there are more?” Jaft asked.

“Lots more. The temple is filled with them.”

“He makes the Water Prince seem like…well, a prince,” Lian said.

“The Water Prince tortures people by hanging them upside down and cutting into their flesh, including eyeballs, and male genitalia.” Revulsion coated her mouth with bile as the vivid memory of the naked vagrant flashed.

“If given the choice, I’d choose my eyes over my—”

“That’s enough,” Elek said, interrupting Jaft. “I just ate.”

Tamburah’s judgment chamber was located on level five. They covered the druks and slowed as they neared the entrance, their footsteps almost silent. Shyla stretched out her senses, seeking that bump of others. Was an ambush waiting for them? Not one comprised of guards. Deacons were another matter. If they wore torques, Shyla and her friends would have to fight their way free.

Taking a chance, she said, “Uncover the druks.”

Light illuminated the threshold and, beyond that, the chamber. No sound pierced the quiet. No deacons attacked from the shadows. Not yet. She’d been surprised twice before in this very location and didn’t wish to add a third. The five of them entered and spread out. Stone benches and a large stone altar decorated the hexagonal room. Behind the altar, King Tamburah’s smug face filled the wall. Blue and purple sand lined his skin, and red grains of crystal filled his empty eye sockets and dripped down his cheek, indicating blood—it was all very dramatic.

“Let’s check the other hallways of the dead,” Shyla said. Six doorways led to other areas of the temple, but she wanted to ensure they were empty of attackers. Satisfied they were alone, for now, she took a druk and examined Tamburah’s giant face while the others guarded her back.

Like she’d suspected, the lines formed a pattern that resembled a…maze…or it could be a complex map. Either way there wasn’t a big X marking the location of another vault or anything else. Studying it with the power of The Eyes also failed to reveal any secrets—because that would have just been too easy. Still…the design seemed clearer than before.

Shyla dug into her pack and removed a blank scroll, a stylus, and a vial of ink. She copied the pattern. As the lines filled the velbloud skin, a nagging sense that she’d seen this before grew. It was a map to a maze, and at the center of the maze should be the prize, whatever that was. Yet the problem still remained of where in Zirdai or the surrounding desert the map detailed. It could be anywhere. Also there wasn’t a key or a compass rose. The area might be kilometers wide, or all contained within a single level. Except…

Tamburah considered the temple his seat of power. Following the logic that he wouldn’t want anything important to be too far away from him, the map would start in the temple. But where?

When she finished the copy, she let the ink dry. She stepped back from the carving. Once again she studied the pattern. Tamburah’s obsession with eyes meant they would be a focus point—an important part of the map. Perhaps the location of the maze. So where was the starting point? The judgment room! She glanced around. Six possible directions. She would have to explore each one, following the map. Too bad she no longer had the map to Tamburah’s temple. The last time she examined it the map had been in Banqui’s work rooms on level thirteen. No doubt Rohana and her diggers now occupied the three large caverns.

“Are you done?” Lian asked. “It’s getting late.”

Shyla debated. They could retreat deeper in the temple and Shyla could explore. Or she could return at another time with Jayden. He had to be well acquainted with the temple’s layout. Plus Banqui had disabled a few booby traps. Perhaps the Invisible Sword had kept some traps active to keep the curious or the treasure hunters away. The smart thing would be to come back with Jayden, even though it would probably start a fight between them.

“All right. Let’s go,” Shyla said.

They returned to headquarters well before the danger zone. And, as if he’d read her mind, Jayden waited for her in the common room. He and Mojag had earned a small pile of coins, but that wasn’t why they’d returned.

“I’ve news,” Jayden said.

And by the wary way he gazed at her, Shyla knew it wasn’t good. “Just tell me.”

“Captain Yates arrested Hanif and another monk. They’re in the black cells.”