The City of Zirdai by Maria V. Snyder

Two

Two Arch Deacons rushed from the storeroom. Their knives glinted in the weak light.

“Left,” Jayden called, pushing Mojag behind him. The boy was handy with a blade, but not trained to go toe to toe with an Arch Deacon.

That meant the guy on the right was Shyla’s. He lunged, aiming the tip of his long skinny knife at her chest. Surprised, she shuffled back. He pressed forward, stabbing out again. Seven hells, the big man was fast. Unease swirled around her heart. Perhaps the theory that the priestess wanted her alive wasn’t accurate. Shyla met his gray-eyed gaze long enough to know he wore a protective torque.

Twisting sideways, she knocked his next thrust wide and grabbed his wrist with both her hands. He jerked his knife arm, pulling her toward him and slightly off balance. The man was as strong as Rendor. She let go, but not quick enough. His punch missed her jaw, but the knuckles on his fist slammed into her shoulder. Pain exploded as the rest of her arm went numb.

Shyla retreated, backing down a tunnel. The good news—the narrow area limited him to a straight-on attack with no chance of getting behind her. The downside was the fading light. The darkness increased with each step.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, picking up his pace. “You don’t get to disappear again.”

Out of options, she blocked his lunge and clasped his arm again. But this time when he yanked his wrist, she used his momentum to shuffle close, kicking him hard in the stomach. She followed him as he stumbled back, staying right up against his chest. One advantage to being smaller than your opponent was the ability to tuck inside. Before he could recover, Shyla cracked his jaw with a well-placed uppercut.

Instead of disengaging, the Arch Deacon cursed and wrapped his arm around her, holding her tight. His knife stabbed toward her side so she twisted and kneed him in the groin. The blade cut across her lower back instead as he bent in half with a groan. A distant part of her mind registered the burning pain. The rest of her struggled to break his hold. Son of a sand demon, he was a brute.

Then the Arch Deacon yelled. He released her and spun around to face Mojag. Grinning, the boy held a bloody knife. A wet stain spread on the back of the brute’s tunic. When he advanced on Mojag, Shyla kicked him hard, aiming for his injury. The Arch Deacon dropped his weapon and staggered to the ground.

Before she could draw a full breath, Mojag had his knife on the man’s neck.

“Stop,” she ordered, putting magic into the words and stopping his hand.

Mojag looked up. “Why? He was going to kill you.”

“We don’t kill unless we have absolutely no other choice.”

“But he’ll just come after us again.”

“Probably, but he’s just following orders.”

“So?”

“So we need to stop the one who is issuing those orders.”

“Yeah, but he’s going to go back and say we’re soft. They’ll think they have the advantage.”

“Maybe. Or perhaps he’ll remember we showed him mercy. And he might start to think that we’re not the villains the Heliacal Priestess claims we are.”

Unconvinced, Mojag huffed. Just then Jayden strode into view. Blood dripped from a small cut on his cheek. His rumpled clothing and mussed hair indicated he’d had a difficult fight as well.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Fine.” Then he smirked. “That Arch Deacon is going to have a hell of a headache when he wakes up, though.” He glanced down at the man on the ground.

Shyla’s opponent’s gaze remained on Mojag whose blade still rested on his throat.

“Mojag, remove his torque, please,” Shyla said, releasing the boy from her magical hold.

He wrenched the necklace off the man, leaving behind scratches that welled with blood. The man touched his throat but didn’t move. Both Jayden and Mojag loomed over him with their knives in hand.

Shyla, though, crouched down and met his gaze, reading his soul. In pain, his emotions flipped between fear, confusion, and hope he might live through this and not bleed to death.

“Tell me how many torques the priestess has,” she ordered.

There had been a dozen—nine now if they took his and Yarb’s, but he wasn’t telling this sun-kissed anything.

“How about the food and water in the storeroom? Is it safe to eat and drink?” she asked.

Of course not. The priestess was smart enough to poison it just in case he and Yarb failed. “Yes,” he said.

Shyla suppressed a sigh over his lie. He either didn’t believe what The Eyes could do or didn’t know the extent of their power. Good news for her. “Does the priestess know where we are?”

Until this encounter, the Blessed One worried the Invisible Swords had moved to another city. Learning they were still here and might eat the poisoned provisions would help him remain in her favor after this fiasco. “Yes.”

“How?”

He scrambled to come up with a convincing lie. “She has prayed to the Sun Goddess who has told her your location.” Hopefully the heathens would panic and leave their current hideout, making them easier to find.

Turning to Jayden, Shyla said, “You were right. We better leave the city.”

Jayden played along. “I’m always right.”

The Arch Deacon couldn’t understand how these fools lasted this long without being caught and killed.

Shyla kept her expression neutral even though she wanted to punch the man. “Last question. What are the priestess’s orders regarding me?”

This one was easy. “She wants you dead or alive. It doesn’t matter as long as your stolen eyes are intact.”

She laughed. As if The Eyes could be stolen. The Eyes of Tamburah had been in the Invisible Sword’s possession since they assassinated Tamburah nearly fourteen hundred circuits ago. They were crafted from priceless gemstones—sapphires, black diamonds, rubies, and pure white topaz—and resembled real eyes in both size and shape. They contained powerful magic but required a leap of faith and a sacrifice to use them.

If The Eyes stirred in a person’s hands, that meant they had the potential to wield them—though there were no guarantees. The sacrifice was exchanging their real eyes for the gemstones. Shyla had taken that leap and Rendor had cut her eyeballs from their sockets. The Eyes had woken, healing her injuries and allowing her to peer into others’ souls along with other abilities that she was still learning.

The Eyes were rightfully hers. Plus she doubted the prince or the priestess had the courage to make that sacrifice.

“Thank you for the information,” Shyla said to the Arch Deacon. She gathered her will and directed it toward him. “You will forget that you fought with me. Instead you will remember fighting with an Invisible Sword member. You will forget this conversation. Sleep,” she ordered.

The man’s body relaxed.

Jayden peered at her. “I didn’t know you learned how to erase memories. Are you sure it worked?”

“Why wouldn’t it work? You taught me yourself. Don’t you remember?” Now it was her turn to smirk. Better that than snapping at him in annoyance for doubting her.

“Me? When? Did you…”

She laughed at his panicked expression. “Relax, Jayden. I didn’t erase your memories.”

“Then how did you learn to do that?”

Gesturing to the prone Arch Deacon, she said, “When I’m reading a person’s soul, he’s mine. His thoughts and emotions are like patterns in the sand and I can smooth some out, redraw others, and add my own. It’s instinctual and rather easy.” And so very tempting to smooth out Jayden’s lingering suspicions and doubts. But she wasn’t Tamburah and she wouldn’t abuse her power. And if she did, Rendor promised to remove The Eyes.

“You know he was lying, right?” Jayden asked.

“Of course. Did you get the torque from your opponent?”

“Of course.”

“He didn’t tell us anything useful,” Mojag whined.

“Oh, he told me quite a bit. He just doesn’t know he did.” She put her hands on her hips. “You both know what The Eyes can do, right? Or are you like this man, who refuses to believe?”

Mojag ducked his head. “All I know is that they gave you power.”

Jayden had the decency to appear abashed. Before he could respond, she turned to Mojag. “I’ll explain later. For now, can you take us to those two Arch Deacons on level twenty-two?”

“Yeah.”

Jayden glanced at her. “You want to take their torques?”

“Might as well. After this, the priestess will know for sure that we’re aware of their protective properties. Then she’ll ensure the Arch Deacons travel in bigger packs.”

They returned for the druk and Mojag led them to the tunnel with the waiting ambush near the entrance on level twenty-two. As she walked, her tunic rubbed against the cut on her lower back, increasing the burning pain. When she woke the power of The Eyes, they had healed all her wounds and erased all her scars. But unfortunately it was a one-time occurrence.

When they neared the Arch Deacons, the boy wrinkled his nose and stopped. He must have a good sense of smell because Shyla couldn’t detect the scent of burnt hair here or when she had fought the other man. No sounds of a conversation reached her, either. Did he have sensitive hearing as well or had the Arch Deacons been alerted to their presence?

“This is how it’s going down,” Jayden whispered. “We’ll snuff the druk, creep up on them, then Mojag will uncover the druk right before Shyla and I jump the Arch Deacons. Mojag, you can distract them while we fight. Got it?” he asked.

She nodded. It was a solid plan. Yet it annoyed her he’d taken charge. And it annoyed her that she was being petty about it.

“Good. Mojag, you go first. When we get close, open the druk and dodge to the other side of the tunnel.”

Mojag stood next to the wall with the druk. Jayden was right behind him and Shyla last. Jayden put his left hand on the boy’s shoulder and his other on the wall. Mimicking Jayden, Shyla clasped his shoulder and placed her fingertips on the cold stone. This way they had contact with each other and hopefully wouldn’t stumble in the complete darkness. A nervous tremble traveled through her legs at the thought of being in the dark.

“Now,” Jayden said.

Mojag snuffed the light. She gripped Jayden’s shoulder. Hard. Her fingernails dug into his flesh.

“What’s wrong?” he hissed.

“I can’t see.” The panic in her voice was unmistakable.

“Hold up, Mojag.” He pried her hand off his shoulder. His boots scuffed on the floor. “That’s the point. What’s really wrong?”

“I’m…very uncomfortable being in the dark.”

“And you’re just figuring this out now?” Jayden’s tone was incredulous.

“I haven’t been in the dark before now.” In fact, the thought of being in the dark scared her more than fighting Arch Deacons.

“Don’t you sleep?”

She really didn’t want to have this conversation now, but Jayden needed to know. “I always have a druk on low when I sleep. I can’t…ever since I was locked in the dark for twelve sun jumps, I can’t…I don’t…I avoid being in the dark.”

“So our fearless leader is afraid of the dark? Heck of a time to tell us.”

She’d never claimed to be fearless. In fact, her fears increased with all her new responsibilities. “Can we talk about it later?” she snapped. “I don’t know how long I can…tolerate it.”

“How about a quick magic lesson?”

“What? Now?”

“Yes. Your magic can sense others nearby. It’s a handy skill and helps us avoid encountering people. It’s similar to gathering your will and directing it at a person. Instead, you send it out in a wide arc to seek. And if anyone’s within five or six meters, you’ll know. Not who they are or what they’re doing, but you do get a vague sense if they’re coming toward you or heading away.”

“That is handy.” She thought about it. “How does this help me now?”

“You can use that to see me and Mojag. You won’t truly be blind.”

“Oh.”

“Try it.” Amusement colored his voice.

She followed his instructions, sending her magic forward. Two…bumps rippled her magic, and if she focused, she picked up Mojag’s surface thoughts. It appeared that once she’d read a person, she could link to their thoughts even in the dark.

“Did it work?” Jayden asked.

“Yes. Thank you.” Her breathing calmed and the blackness wasn’t so…menacing.

“You catch on quick. Must be because of The Eyes. Just remember it won’t work if the Arch Deacons are wearing torques like the two hiding in the storeroom. That’s why Mojag’s in the lead,” Jayden said. “Okay, let’s try this again.”

They resumed their creep. Shyla was glad for the soft soles of her dillo leather boots. Eventually, the scent of burnt hair—Mojag was right, it was vile—filled her nose. Jayden stopped and touched her fingers on his shoulder—a signal to let go and get ready. She released her hold and prepared to attack.

“Now,” Jayden ordered.

Mojag opened the druk. Orange light spilled out, revealing the two Arch Deacons. Being caught completely off guard, the two didn’t stand a chance. Between her, Jayden, and Mojag, it took a fraction of an angle to knock them unconscious. She put their torques into her pack.

“You’re bleeding,” Mojag said behind her.

She tried to downplay it. “It’s just a scratch from the other fight.”

“Scratches don’t soak your tunic,” Jayden said. “Keep still. Let me see.” He lifted the material.

Cool air caressed her skin, sending a shiver up her spine.

“It’s deep. We need to get you to Zhek.”

“We need to get back before the Arch Deacons wake up or the next shift arrives,” she said, yanking down her shirt.

“Don’t be stupid. You could get sick if it gets infected. Zhek’s at Orla’s commune on level thirty-nine. It’s not far.”

“How do you know where he is?” she asked a bit petulantly.

“I’m the Vagrant Prince. I know where all my people are.”

Mojag chuckled.

When she didn’t follow Jayden right away, he grabbed her wrist and tugged her along. “They’re your people, too, Shyla. The Invisible Sword was formed to protect the people of Zirdai from tyrants. All the people.”

“I’m well aware, Jayden. Except that’s a tall order at this time. We only have thirty of us. We need to secure the means to our survival first and then we can right the very long list of wrongs.”

For once Jayden didn’t argue. Shyla almost fainted from the shock. Instead she followed him as he navigated the twists, turns, ups, and downs that she had come to realize was required to travel through Zirdai without encountering anyone.

The druk light turned red when they entered level twenty-five and stayed red until they reached level thirty-six where it changed to green. A fluttering in her stomach started about then. The last time she went to Orla’s commune, she had to cross a thin plank over a deep vertical air shaft. It hadn’t been the best time to learn that she was uncomfortable with heights. However, on the way back, Adair had pushed her off and she fell twelve levels until she hit a net, which saved her life. The man hadn’t warned her, nor did he tell her about the life-saving device. Jayden had theorized Adair was probably angry because she’d found their well-hidden commune.

Despite the fact she survived, Shyla wasn’t in any hurry to cross that plank ever again. She’d happily avoid it for the rest of her life.

And perhaps Jayden sensed her unease. They entered the edges of the commune from a different direction. The guards hidden in the shadows nodded at Jayden as they passed.

Orla was in charge of the largest vagrant community in Zirdai. She had plenty of room since technically the levels they occupied were outside of the city’s limits, which were loosely defined by the major vertical air shafts. Zirdai was roughly bowl shaped with the deeper levels narrower than the upper levels.

“Do all the communes have multiple entrances?” she asked him.

“Yes. There’s always the danger of a raid. Even though this one is well hidden, they still have at least five different exits.”

That was three more than their hideout. Shyla considered how to add at least another. Then she remembered the old headquarters had been under Tamburah’s temple, which was three kilometers away from the city, but Jayden hadn’t taken them to the surface to reach it. Had the Invisible Sword built tunnels to connect the two or were they already there? She’d have to ask Jayden later.

A dozen druk lights shone from the heart of the multi-level commune. Shyla blinked in the brightness. Shouldn’t everyone be asleep? She checked the sand clock. It was angle three-forty. “Why all the light?” she asked Jayden.

“Vagrants don’t follow the standard sleep schedule of the rest of Zirdai,” he explained. “Most raids come during darkness and moving around the city is easier in the late angles of a sun jump.”

They entered the main area. Ladders stretched between levels, curtains covered doorways, and colorful cushions and furniture decorated common areas. The pleasant aroma of incense and cleanser floated on the air. A few kids spotted Jayden and Mojag and dashed over to ask them questions in a breathless rush. Adults worked at various tasks, crafting goods to sell at the market. Others bustled about. It was a bubble of peace. They didn’t need the Water Prince’s guards or the Heliacal Priestess’s deacons here. Yes, they had to find their own food and water, but they policed themselves and prayed to the Sun Goddess on their own terms.

Of course this wouldn’t work on a larger scale. There was a reason for guards and organized religion helped a number of people. Unfortunately for Zirdai’s citizens, those in charge had been corrupted by the power. She hoped that wouldn’t happen to her.

Orla spotted them and hurried over. Gray streaked her black hair, and although older, she moved with the same energy as a child only a few circuits old. Her gray-eyed gaze met Shyla’s. The woman’s curiosity blasted Shyla and was followed by wonder and awe. Surprised by Orla’s intensity, Shyla strengthened her mental shield. It’d been easy to block Mojag’s rambling thoughts and, since she hadn’t read Jayden’s soul, she didn’t pick up his thoughts and emotions.

“Your eyes,” Orla said, stepping closer. “They’ve changed color.”

Oops. Shyla glanced at Jayden.

“Orla helps the Invisible Sword from time to time,” Jayden said. “Who do you think has been supplying us with water these last six sun jumps?”

“Thank you,” Shyla said.

Instead of answering, Orla cupped Shyla’s cheeks. Her bony fingers were cold. “I knew you had greatness in you. Even shunned as a sun-kissed, you persisted, and look at how the Sun Goddess has rewarded you.”

More like ordered her, but Shyla wasn’t going to correct the woman. She’d only told Hanif about her…encounter with the Sun Goddess that may or may not have been a heat-induced delusion. I do not enjoy seeing my people suffer, the goddess/delusion had said to her. Make it stop.

Orla released her. “I’m sorry I don’t have any extra jugs of water for you.” She gestured to the others nearby. “The last batch we received was all poisoned. We are rationing what we have until another source can be found.”

“That’s terrible. We’re not here for that. You’ve done more than enough,” she said.

“Where’s Zhek?” Jayden asked. “Shyla’s injured.”

“It’s minor,” she rushed to assure Orla while frowning at Jayden.

“He’s checking on Darma. Her baby is due soon. I’ll let him know you’re here. In the meantime, please help yourself to some refreshments.”

As the woman hurried off, Shyla wandered around. She wasn’t going to drink any of their limited water. Jayden and Mojag went to talk with who she presumed were friends or maybe family members. It occurred to her that, other than Mojag’s sister, Gurice, she didn’t know anything about Jayden or Mojag’s family. There just hadn’t been time to learn. Maybe if she understood Jayden’s life better, they wouldn’t argue so much. She added it to her list of tasks.

First on that long tally was getting clean water. She needed to understand how the black market for water worked. Then she had to secure a supply they could trust, which meant paying more coins per jug. And that led to earning coins. Shyla imagined setting up a market stall, hawking soul readings for two osmiums. Ah, no. What else could she do?

Shyla almost laughed out loud at her next thought. She could sell sweets to the treasure hunters. That had been how she survived when she’d first arrived in Zirdai, locating valuable artifacts for the hunters. However, she had switched to working with legitimate clients. And the thought of those treasures being sold to black-market dealers and collectors didn’t sit well with her.

She doubted the Water Prince’s new archeologist would hire her to find temples and castles that had been buried by the sand. Who else would? The history professors? Well…not the ones in Zirdai. Perhaps in another city but— The answer popped into her mind. Aphra! A treasure hunter who sold her sweets to professors in other cities. It was a compromise Shyla could live with. Her good mood lasted until Zhek arrived.

“Ten sun jumps,” Zhek said instead of a greeting.

“Excuse me?”

“You managed to stay healthy for ten whole sun jumps.” His grumpy tone implied it was unacceptable.

“I’ve missed you too, Zhek.”

His bushy white eyebrows shot up into his mess of white hair in surprise. “Well, er…” He cleared his throat. “Where are you injured?”

She turned and showed him the cut on her lower back. Zhek tsked, hustled her into an examination room, and instructed her to lie down on a table on her stomach. Once the numbing paste soothed the pain, she ceased listening to his admonishments as he stitched the skin closed.

Shyla fell asleep soon after Zhek finished, but she didn’t rest for long. Jayden woke her at angle three-fifty-five. Only five more angles before the sun started its jump.

“We need to go if we’re going to get out of the city without attracting attention.”

She suppressed a groan. He was right. Angle zero was the perfect time to slip out with all the others who went to the surface: the velbloud caretakers, the deacons who joined the Heliacal Priestess for her early angle worship service, archeologists with their diggers in tow, and various others.

However, since she was already in the city, she needed to do a few more things. “Send Mojag back to headquarters to tell everyone we’re going to stay another sun jump,” she said.

His shoulders tightened. “Did you forget about the Arch Deacons we attacked already?” His tone implied she was an idiot.

Instead of snapping back—something she’d done in all their prior arguments—she kept her voice even. “No. In fact, they’re one of the reasons I want to stay. By now, they’ve reported to the priestess that the Invisible Sword is still around and deacons will be stationed at all the city’s exits.” She held up a hand to stop his retort. “I know we can use our magic to slip by them, but I’ve a couple other tasks and need your help.”

The tension eased from him. Shyla refrained from celebrating. While Jayden went to find Mojag, Shyla changed into a clean tunic. She folded the stained one. The blood had dried, stiffening the fabric and making it difficult to stuff into her pack. The four torques clinked together. They needed to be hidden somewhere very safe. The Monks of Parzival had kept The Eyes of Tamburah safe for close to half a million sun jumps. Perhaps she should give them to Hanif to put in the Fourth Room of Knowledge. Not many monks had permission to access that room.

While growing up in the monastery, and even after she left, Shyla was allowed in the First Room of Knowledge. She earned the right to enter the Second Room of Knowledge when she retrieved a vial of “water” from the black river for Hanif—it had ended up being a rivulet of blood. She hoped to be able to earn admittance to them all—it would be a first for someone who was not a monk.

“Mojag isn’t happy to miss all the fun. His words, not mine,” Jayden said when he returned. “But he’s gone to tell the others we’ll be delayed. What do you want to do?”

“First, can you tell me how the vagrants get water?”

“There are water dealers in the black market. We make arrangements with one of them, but when we get poisoned jugs, that understanding is voided and we have to find someone else.”

“Do you know where they get the water?”

“No. Not many do. It’s one of those closely guarded secrets. We really don’t care if they steal it or bribe the guards or have another source as long as it’s clean. Do you want me to arrange a deal with one of them? I’ve done it for my commune on level sixty-two many times.”

His comment about bribing the guards made her pause. Rendor should know about how the Water Prince’s guards collected and distributed the water. “Not yet.”

“Why not? We’re going to run out of water soon.”

Again she resisted snapping at him. “How much would it cost?”

“Quite a lot. Thirty-six osees for the first shipment of a dozen jugs. And if it’s poisoned that’s just bad luck, you don’t get a single coin back.”

Wow. She’d figured it would be expensive, but not that pricey. “What’s to keep them from just giving everyone poisoned water?”

“Once a dealer’s jugs are discovered to be poisoned, he’s out of business. No one would buy from him again. The problem is that person just hides behind another to keep selling until the guards figure him out again and lace his jugs.”

“So the guards eventually find the dealers?”

“Some of them. The ones who have stayed hidden the longest charge forty-eight osees a dozen. But they’re picky about who they sell to. We’d be too big a risk for them. Besides, we can’t afford it.”

Not yet. She hoped her talk with Aphra would be profitable. “What about food? Are there food dealers as well?”

“Jerky is always easy to get. There’s not much supervision in the smoke caverns on level four and the workers steal rolls and sell them. That’s where we’ve been getting our supply. Fresh meat, eggs, and vegetables are harder to obtain. You can’t get into the growing caverns, but the delivery people and kitchen workers can be bribed.”

She considered. “Is that how the Invisible Swords acquired food before?”

“No. Truthfully, there were only a handful of people who had to remain truly invisible and they all had magic so they slipped in the dining caverns and helped themselves without anyone the wiser. The other members either were legitimate citizens or vagrants and had their own sources of food and water.”

He didn’t say it, but Shyla sensed his impatience over her decree that they not steal. Technically, obtaining food and water illegally was stealing, but at least someone was getting paid for taking the risk.

Then there was the problem of transporting food and water to their headquarters. “Can we connect our headquarters with the city? Maybe dig an underground tunnel?”

If he was thrown by the change in subject, he didn’t react. He frowned in thought, gazing over her shoulder. “Our headquarters is further than Tamburah’s temple. It’ll take time and plenty of manpower. Plus we’d have to dig a bunch of fake tunnels to confuse anyone following us. The maze to our old hideout was the result of thousands of sun jumps’ work over the last thirteen hundred circuits.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Having just one tunnel would be a start and I think needed since traveling topside is becoming increasingly risky.”

“Can you scout out a location in Zirdai we could connect to?”

“Yes. We’d need to link to a place down some long-forgotten tunnel that’s not too deep. Somewhere between levels six and twelve.” He straightened. “I’ll take a look. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to talk to a treasure hunter about earning us some coins.”

“Do you know how to get back here?” he asked.

“Only by crossing the plank.” She crinkled her nose, remembering the strength of the air blowing up from the depths, threatening to knock her off. Just the thought of standing on the edge conjured up the scent of gamelu meat mixed with damp sand that had been seared into her senses.

“Then pay attention on the way out.”

“All right.” Shyla pulled her wrap from her pack and arranged it to cover her short blond hair. Though it no longer stood up like bristles on a brush, her hair still had a long way to go to return to the length it had been before the deacon cut it off. One benefit to its current state was that it was easier to cover and keep clean.

She grabbed a druk as they crossed the common area. The vagrants had gathered to share first meal together. Her stomach grumbled when she smelled the velbloud eggs, but she continued past the tables.

Jayden grabbed her arm, stopping her. “We should eat first.”

“No. We’re not taking food from them. They—”

“Are happy to share. They know we’re trying to make their lives better. They want to support us in the ways they can. This is one way.”

And Jayden knew them best. But she only filled her water skin halfway before joining them. Their conversation reminded her of the meals she had growing up in the monastery. It was a similar exchange of their plans for the sun jump, a bit of gossip, a bit of teasing, some good-natured grumbling about work shifts, and arguments over stupid things like who cooked the best eggs. She’d missed that connection, that sense of family. The Invisible Swords hadn’t gotten there yet.

Once the meal finished, Jayden led her out to a familiar part of the city. They parted. She pulled her wrap lower, putting her face in shadow. Dressed like one of the citizens, she was practically invisible. No magic needed. She kept to the edges to avoid encountering them. But, of all the people she did pass, not many even glanced at her, and those who did didn’t really see her.

It struck her that all these people were just trying to survive, earning enough coin to pay for food and water for themselves and their families. And to avoid being noticed by the guards or deacons. The air hummed with a current of fear. People struggled to breathe in this toxic atmosphere.

But would their lives change once the Invisible Sword defeated the Water Prince and Heliacal Priestess? Taxes and tithes would still be needed to grow food and distribute water. Yet there would be no harsh punishments for minor crimes, no threat of torture just because a deacon decided someone didn’t show the proper devotion, and no more fear simmering in the air. It was going to take a great deal of time, coin, and effort, but she was determined to bring laughter back to the city of Zirdai.

Shyla reached the dining cavern on level nineteen. It was angle thirty—the end of first meal. Almost everyone had gone, but a few lingered inside. The deacons in charge of making sure those who entered had paid their tithes rolled up their scrolls of names, preparing to settle in for the boring angles between meals. Citizens could stop in for water at any time, but most filled their water skins during the three meal times.

Gathering her will, she used her magic on the deacons.

Look away, she commanded them.

Look away.

Both men turned to glance in the opposite direction and she slipped by them. Her magic worked differently than the power of The Eyes. She could influence a person’s perceptions or give them simple commands like sleep or look away without the need for eye contact. However, The Eyes made her magical commands stronger.

Only a few people sat at the tables scattered around the cavern. Since all the dining areas spanned two levels, the ceiling arched high above. The sounds of the workers cleaning up the serving line bounced off the hard stone walls as the lingering spicy scent of roasted gamelu meat perfumed the air. She breathed in deep. It’d been so long since she had a hot juicy meal that she just about drooled.

Pulling her focus back to her task, Shyla scanned the diners. When not recovering artifacts, the treasure hunters gathered here each sun jump to swap stories, dig for information, and to team up if a job was too big for one of them to handle. Except this jump. No one lingered, which meant they must all be working.

Most of the hunters worked as freelancers for Fadey. He arranged jobs and hooked up hunters with buyers. For a fee, of course. When she’d first arrived in Zirdai, she had worked for Fadey, finding the location of hidden treasure for his hunters. It had been a temporary arrangement until she’d set up her legitimate business.

Shyla headed to Fadey’s rooms. He lived on level seventeen despite having enough coins to afford a deeper place. Hunters stayed close to the surface for easier access to the buried ancient ruins, temples, and palaces full of artifacts.

As she walked through the tunnel leading to his door, Shyla slowed. The…bumps of hidden watchers reached her. She sensed two people lurking in the shadows. Guards or hunters or maybe a rival’s men? Perhaps a couple of Fadey’s minions, protecting their boss’s home. When she neared his door, she had to make a decision—keep walking or stop and knock.

She needed to find Aphra. Deciding to stick to her original plan, she knocked on his thick colored-glass door. The last time she visited, one of his minions wouldn’t let her in without a bribe. Shyla dug into her pack, finding her pouch of coins.

The door slid open without anyone demanding that she state her business. Fadey stood on the other side. His mouth hung open as he stared at her in shock. She was equally surprised as his clothes were rumpled and stained. His curly black beard was straggly and unkempt. She’d never seen him so disheveled.

“Fadey, what—”

“Come inside, quick.” He grabbed her wrist and yanked her into the room, shutting the door right behind him.

“What happened? What’s going on?”

“You’ve returned from the dead. I can ask you the same thing.”

“I asked first.”

“And it would take me angles to tell you everything. Unfortunately, we don’t have the time. You need to leave before the guards arrest you.”