The City of Zirdai by Maria V. Snyder

Thirteen

The five of them stared into the darkness. For the floor to just drop away…that was impressive. She’d never witnessed anything like that before.

“Who wants to climb down into the seven caverns of hell first?” Jaft asked.

“Are you always this melodramatic?” Vashi asked him.

Shyla glanced at Aphra. “Do you think there will be booby traps?”

“It depends if Tamburah believed someone could get this far. Considering only he had been able to see the symbols, I doubt it. But I’m not relaxing my guard.”

“Then you first.”

“Thanks.” Aphra approached the lip of the ramp as if a venomous snake was coiled inside. She held a druk in one hand and her knife in the other. Winding around the steps, she slowly disappeared.

The tension increased as Shyla waited. Perhaps she shouldn’t have sent Aphra down there. What if only someone with the power of The Eyes—

“All clear,” Aphra called.

Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. With Shyla in the lead, they stepped down the series of ramps, each one smaller than the last, until they reached the end which rested on the floor a level below the hexagonal room.

Aphra waited for them. She jerked her thumb behind her. “The maze awaits.”

“What happened to your arm?” Jayden asked.

Her sleeve was ripped and blood welled. “There are nasty traps in there.”

“What a surprise,” Jaft said dryly.

To Aphra’s evident amusement, Jayden inspected the wound and declared it shallow. He removed a bandage from his pack and wrapped it around her bicep.

The action reminded Shyla of Rendor, who would have done the same thing if she’d gotten hurt. Or perhaps not. He might be glad not having to worry about her anymore. Silencing those depressing thoughts, Shyla strode over to the maze’s entrance. “Bring that druk, Jaft.”

He stopped right behind her. She took the lantern from him and held it up. The walls were identical to all the others in the temple. There were two ways to go, left or right.

“Don’t go left,” Aphra said.

Wondering if Tamburah had memorized the correct route or marked it as he had with the symbols, Shyla used her magic. Sure enough, an arrow pointed right. It seemed too easy.

“Would the correct path have booby traps?” she asked Aphra.

“No. Otherwise, Tamburah would have to disable them every time.”

“He was paranoid about thieves finding his valuables,” Shyla said.

“In that case, we should proceed with care.”

“Wait,” Jayden said. “Do we need to solve the maze? We don’t have enough time to figure it out.”

“No. Tamburah marked the route,” she said.

“Right then?” Aphra asked.

“Yes.”

Aphra once again took the lead. Shyla directed her and they moved slowly. When Aphra held up a hand, they halted. When the hunter crouched, Shyla spotted another symbol on the wall. And there were four more on the floor. It took her a few moments to decipher it.

“There’s a safe path through the trap,” Shyla said.

“How do you know?” Aphra asked.

“I can see it.”

She moved aside. “You first.”

“Are you sure?” Jayden asked.

“I’m pretty sure.”

“Such confidence,” Jaft muttered.

Shyla stepped on the first graphic on the floor. When nothing happened, she released her breath, bent down to trace her boot with the chalk, and moved to the subsequent one. After she finished, she spotted the next arrow.

“Follow my footprints exactly,” she instructed.

Without hesitating, Aphra went, then Jayden and Vashi.

“And to think,” Jaft said, stepping onto the first print. “My parents encouraged me to join the monastery because I had dangerous friends. If only they could see me now.”

After Jaft joined them, Shyla led. With the booby traps marked, she was able to increase their pace. As she navigated the twists and turns, she wondered how Tamburah had been able to create symbols only the power of The Eyes could detect. Had he used a special ink or chalk? Whatever it was, it had lasted for over thirteen hundred circuits.

So intent on searching for more symbols, Shyla barreled into another hexagonal room without noticing the skeletons at first. They sat on the floor with their backs resting on the walls and their legs splayed out in front. There were ten of them.

“Friends of yours?” Jaft asked.

“Maybe it’s a warning.” Aphra knelt next to one.

“I think they were Tamburah’s servants who helped hide his treasure.” Shyla pointed to a rusted knife lodged between one of the skeleton’s ribs.

“Speaking of treasure, where is it?” Jayden asked.

Increasing her magic, she scanned the walls. Nothing.

“Don’t tell me someone already took it?” Aphra’s voice held disappointment. She straightened. “Unfortunately, it happens more often than not.”

No. Shyla refused to believe that they’d come all this way to find nothing. She paced around the room, almost tripping over the skeletons’ feet. That gave her an idea. Sweeping the sand away from the center of the floor, Shyla revealed a symbol. This one was a simple swirl.

Shyla set her druk down, crouched and pressed both her palms to the swirl. She pushed with her magic and the ground collapsed underneath her.

With a cry, she tumbled forward. Jayden shouted her name as she fell into a hole that expanded into steps. Rolling down the hard stone staircase, she kept her chin tucked close to her chest so she wouldn’t break her neck. She landed hard, sprawling at the bottom with a thump. Pain radiated up her back and ringed her ribs. Her lungs refused to work.

Jayden rushed down the steps then bent over her. “Are you all right?”

Unable to speak, she nodded. Aphra, Jaft and Vashi soon clustered around her in concern. The added light illuminated the room. Shyla caught a glimmer from the corner of her eye. She sucked in a breath and labored to sit up.

Jayden helped her. “What’s wrong?”

Pointing over his shoulder, she gasped, “Tamburah.”

Everyone spun to look. A life-sized, golden statue of Tamburah sparkled in the druk light. Behind him were shelves filled with treasure.

Whoops of joy echoed in the small room. Finally something that went right! Shyla was abandoned as everyone raced over to inspect the items on the shelves. Even though pain still pulsed, she struggled to her feet and joined the others. Everyone grinned and hugged as they celebrated. While thrilled they’d solved one of their biggest problems, there was a part of Shyla that longed to share the good news with Rendor.

Aphra donned a crown of gold, platinum, and silver all twisted together with emeralds decorating it. It was one of many crowns and scepters. Chalices, bowls, jewelry, hairpins, an army of smaller Tamburah statues—Shyla added narcissistic to his long list of faults—all sparkled in the yellow druk light. The collection filled five deep shelves. Too many items to count, but that didn’t stop Jaft from trying.

Jayden shook his head in amazement. “I’d no idea this was here.”

“I think that was the point,” Jaft said. Then he hefted one of the Tamburah statues. It was a nude. “Nice of the king to exaggerate his…er…male attributes. Extra gold for us! We should melt this one down first because of the ewww factor.”

His comment reminded everyone that finding the treasure was just the start. They filled their packs with a variety of items, leaving the bigger treasures for later. What they grabbed would feed them for circuits. Aphra offered to sell the ones that held less value to avoid drawing attention, and Shyla planned to visit Professor Emeline before the woman left Zirdai. The crown would be a perfect replacement for Gorgain’s.

They climbed the steps to the skeleton room. Shyla puzzled over how to close the hole in the floor. She pressed a number of locations but nothing moved. The swirl was on the last step, so she touched it and then bolted up as the staircase retracted, making it to the top before it closed. At least the ramp outside the maze was easier. Shyla pressed the numbers in ascending order and the floor returned to its original position. She and Jayden used their magic to smooth the remaining sand, covering the pattern of thin swirling lines.

Before they reached Tamburah’s judgment room, they slowed. Apprehension filled her. Since one thing had gone in their favor, she expected the next ten to be a disaster. Except Elek and Lian reported being “utterly bored” while the others were having a “grand adventure.” They quickly forgot their petulance when shown a few of the treasures.

“Does that mean we don’t have to clear that tunnel at the crypt anymore?” Elek asked.

“For now. I’d like to go back to it,” Shyla said. “But it also means we’ll have double shifts working on the tunnel to Zirdai.”

Everyone groaned.

When they returned to headquarters, it was angle seventy—closer to the danger zone than they’d have liked. The good news about the find energized everyone, lifting the constant worry from all their shoulders. Happy sounds and laughter filled the common room. Smiles and slaps on backs echoed. And Shyla figured this would be a perfect time to have them all pledge an oath to the new Invisible Sword, but she needed to consult with Jayden and Ximen first.

The three of them went to Shyla’s room. Except for a few items that Aphra planned to sell, Shyla had collected all the treasures and put them into the trunk in her room. It locked.

“We can’t flood the market, and we need to be careful with our purchases as well,” Jayden said. “We don’t want to draw any attention by buying large quantities.”

“All right. Would you like to oversee that, Jayden?”

If he was surprised, he didn’t react. “Yes. What about the professor?”

“I’ll work with her since she knows me, but you can handle the rest. However, that’s not why I asked you to accompany me.” She turned to Ximen. “How did the magic lessons go?”

He frowned. “Not well. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they showed an utter lack of magical ability.”

“That bad? What about Mojag’s sensing ability?” she asked.

“When he tried to use it, he couldn’t sense anyone. It was only when he wasn’t paying attention that it worked.”

“Plan B?” Jayden asked.

“Yes, I’ll ask for a volunteer.”

“Not Mojag.”

“Did you know he already volunteered?” she asked.

“Figures. You didn’t take him up on it, right?”

“Of course not. Did you really think I would?”

“I think you would do what is needed for this organization to survive,” Jayden said.

Interesting. “There’s another matter. I want to have everyone take the oath at the sun’s apex. The pledge will be almost identical to the one you used, and I plan to give everyone that symbol on their shoulders, but I’m going to alter it to reflect the new archive.”

Jayden and Ximen exchanged a look. Finally Ximen said, “That symbol only works for those who have magic.”

“They only need magic to see it. Right?”

“No. They need magic for it to heal so quickly and for the symbol to remain on the skin. When a wielder takes the oath, it creates a magical reaction.” Ximen rubbed his shoulder. “We’re really not sure how it works.”

That was disappointing, but Shyla thought if she could figure out how Tamburah marked those walls, perhaps she could mark the members.

Ximen left to find her a volunteer for plan B.

Jayden remained behind. “You don’t have to mark everyone. Swearing an oath is a powerful thing, and for most people it is enough.”

She remembered Chago at the monastery, spying for the Water Prince. Perhaps he’d told Captain Yates about Shyla’s visits and it had led to the search and her parents’ arrest. “But not for everyone.”

“You still think there’s a traitor in our midst.” His anger heated the air between them. “Why don’t you just read everyone’s souls and stop with all this taking-an-oath nonsense?”

“Do you want me to read your soul without your permission?”

“You know I don’t.”

“So that must mean you have something to hide?”

“It just means I value my privacy. I get it. Okay? But how is taking an oath going to reveal a potential spy?”

“As you said, taking an oath is a powerful thing, and, in that case, I don’t need to read a person’s soul to know if they’re telling the truth. It’ll all be right there on their surface thoughts. In their body language.”

“And that’s not reading a soul?” he asked.

“Yes. Reading a soul is going deep, learning secrets, learning the full measure of a person, what they’ve done, what they think and believe. Who they are.”

“I still think you’re walking a thin line.”

“And I think it’s something I need to do for this organization to survive.” She used his words against him.

“Fair enough.” He turned to leave.

“Jayden.”

He paused on the threshold.

“I haven’t read anyone’s soul. Not to that depth. But I will if I have to. I’ll cross that line and not apologize.”

Jayden glanced over his shoulder and met her gaze. “Good to know.” Then he left.

She plopped onto her sitting cushion. He had a point. It would be easier for her to read everyone and be done with it, but they’d never trust her again. And that reminded her too much of Tamburah. The last thing she ever wanted was to be like him.

While waiting for her volunteer, Shyla spent the time reading over the scroll of maddeningly vague instructions about using The Eyes. She’d learned she could push her power through her hands, but nothing in the text suggested that was possible. Unless the linking and creating a connection passage referred to that skill. What if she pushed her power while making a mark? It couldn’t hurt to try.

Shyla retrieved her chalk from her pack. Feeling a little silly, she rubbed the chalk over the rough stone, writing her name on the wall of her room while adding magic through her fingertips.

“Are you afraid someone is going to take your room?” Gurice asked with amusement. She stood in the doorway with Mojag pressed against her.

The two of them together didn’t bode well. “I’m experimenting.” Shyla used a corner of her sleeve to erase the letters, but a faint dusting of white remained. Hating to use water but unable to think of something else, she picked up her water skin and washed off the rest of the marks. Now she’d have to wait until it dried.

“Okay,” Gurice drawled as if humoring a crazy lady. “Does this have anything to do with opening a person’s magic?”

Shyla muttered a curse. “No one volunteered?”

“I did!” Mojag said, affronted. “Don’t know why you asked the others. Am I not good enough for you?”

Sigh. “Mojag, you’re too good for me. I don’t want to hurt you. You’re too important.”

“Too bad. I’m here.” He grabbed a handful of sand from the bucket. “And I want to make this sand fly.”

She met Gurice’s gaze.

“Our family line has magic so he would have been tested in the chamber,” Gurice said. “Some people change after being chained that long in the dark.”

“All right.” At least she could stop if he showed any signs of distress. “Sit down.”

He settled next to the bucket.

“Should I go?” Gurice asked.

“No, stay.” Shyla knelt on the other side of the bucket, facing Mojag. “Did Ximen teach you how to gather your will?”

“Yes, but it didn’t work,” Mojag said. “Or I didn’t do it right. It’s hard to gather something that’s not…something.”

Shyla lowered her shield. Despite Mojag’s brave words, he was scared. Gurice, too, but she kept her posture relaxed so she wouldn’t upset him. Despite their bickering, they loved each other deeply.

“How about pulling it? Can you pull it from inside…” She tapped her chest. “…and aim it at the sand in the bucket?”

“You mean to stare at it with intention?”

“That’s one way to describe it.”

“Okay.” Mojag’s eyebrows crashed together as he squinted at the sand.

The ribbon of magic glowed inside him. Once again it resembled a druk lantern only opened a crack. The edges around that gap were sharp and ragged. Shyla reached toward the glow as if seeking his thoughts. She grasped the ends of the lantern and pulled them apart.

Memories gushed from the opening as it widened. A vagrant woman lies broken and mutilated, blood pooling under her body. Her head lolls to the side and she meets Mojag’s gaze right before the light in her eyes dies. A man—no, a guard—straddles her, raising his knife for another unneeded strike. An anguished cry slices the air as another man tackles the guard to the ground. They fight until two more guards arrive and drag the man to his feet. Then they beat him to death right in front of his son who is hiding in a dark corner.

“Mom! Dad!” Mojag cried as the scene repeated. Pain and grief surged through his body, rubbing him raw.

“What’s going on?” Gurice demanded. She grabbed her brother, hugging him close.

Shyla reversed her efforts, closing the lantern.

Mojag’s hand shot out and clutched her wrist. “No. Don’t. Keep going. Let it out. Let it all out.”

She exchanged a look with Gurice, seeking his sister’s permission.

“Please,” Mojag said.

Gurice nodded and Shyla pulled the lantern wide open. Mojag jerked as more memories poured from the rift. Horrible images of all the terrible things he’d witnessed since his parents’ murder. Then came the guilt over what he’d done in his short life, including when he sold Shyla to the deacons.

The poor boy thrashed and wailed and cried. Tears streamed down his face and he clamped onto his sister as if she alone could keep him from being washed away. Sobs racked his body. Then the images faded. The painful memories dulled to a throb. Mojag sucked in a deep breath, relaxed, and fell asleep.

Gurice held him tight. “Did it work?”

“I don’t know.” Shyla wished she could forget Mojag’s terrible memories. She understood why he’d want to get rid of them. Despite the purge, they still remained with him. At least they weren’t nearly as sharp. “We’ll find out when he wakes up.”

“Son of a sand demon, you did it, didn’t you?” Jayden demanded from the doorway. “He’s just a boy.”

“No, he isn’t,” Shyla said. “He hasn’t been since his parents died.”

Jayden glared at her. Then he swooped in and picked Mojag up in his arms, cradling him to his chest. “If you harmed him, we’re leaving.” He turned his anger on Gurice. “And you’re not invited.”