The City of Zirdai by Maria V. Snyder

Twenty-One

It had been thirty-two sun jumps since they’d locked Jayden in the testing chamber in the lower levels of Tamburah’s temple. Shyla went alone. An unpleasant odor greeted her first, one that reminded her of the black cells but not nearly as strong. Then she spotted Jayden. He sat with his back leaning on the wall and his forehead resting on his bent knees.

“Are you here to gloat?” He didn’t raise his head or attack her with his magic.

She scanned his supplies. A pile of empty water skins rested next to the low table. It had been overturned at some point—perhaps kicked over in anger. Two full skins and a couple rolls of jerky sat on the scrolls, which were as far away from the collection buckets as the chain attached to Jayden’s ankle would allow. He’d rationed his supplies. Smart.

The silence stretched. Eventually Jayden glanced at her. His golden brown hair was lackluster and a straggly beard covered his face. But it was the apathy in his gaze that alarmed her the most. She scanned his thoughts and emotions, reading his soul. He’d given up hope. He’d lost everything. Everyone he’d loved. No one would forgive him.

“I’m not here to gloat,” she said.

“But you won, didn’t you?”

“At a high cost. Too high to really call it a win.”

He shot to his feet. “Mojag?”

Ah, there it was. He still care about something. “Annoying as ever.”

Jayden sagged against the wall. “Gurice?”

“Promoted to one of my seconds.”

“Ximen?”

No matter how she worded it, it wouldn’t change the fact. “He died.”

He straightened as grief and anger blazed to life inside him. “The Water Prince killed him.”

Not quite a question. “No, the Heliacal Priestess.”

Jayden jerked as if slapped. His mind reeled and guilt twisted. My fault.

“Not your fault.” She explained about the explosions. “The priestess collected the toxic gases and released clouds of it underneath the prince’s complex. All it needed was a spark. We’re still not sure how she managed it. And I’m not sure we really want to know the details—it might be tempting for someone else to copy it.”

He was horrified.

“Regardless, two hundred and sixty-four people died. All because of her. The priestess who you conspired with.”

“I…” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I…didn’t think she’d do something like that.”

“No one did.”

His shoulders dropped. “Did any other Invisible Sword members die?”

She found it interesting that he didn’t ask if the Water Prince or the priestess lived or died. Listing the names, she felt his pain through her magical connection and suffered through her own welling of grief. By the time she finished, he’d returned to his huddled position on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I made so many mistakes.”

His emotions matched his words, but Shyla decided to test him. “If given the chance, would you kill the Water Prince?”

His head snapped up. “He’s alive?”

“Why are you surprised?”

“The priestess hated him more than I did. I thought she would kill him with her explosions.”

And since he didn’t know the full story, that would make sense. “No, he still lives.”

Jayden’s thoughts spun, but that inner fury, which had fueled him to betray her and the Invisible Sword, had died. “No, I wouldn’t kill him. Not anymore. For him, living is a punishment. Dying would be too easy.” He told the truth. “What happened? I sense you’re not telling me the entire story.”

“I’m not. Get comfortable, this is going to take a while.” She told him what had happened, including all the gritty and terrible details. Keeping her connection to him, she monitored his reactions. They shared a wry grin when she reached the part about her being chained to the floor.

“Wait,” he interrupted at one point. “Why did you tell me the prince was alive?”

She kept quiet and let him figure it out.

“To see my reaction? Because…” He pulled at his beard. “Because of what I did. My desire to kill him clouded all reason, and you wanted to see if I still had the same blind desire.”

“Yes. And I can tell even the news of his death has not given you the sense of satisfaction that you sought. Nor the peace you hoped for.”

“My sister’s still dead. And, like I said, being locked in a black cell would have been a really good punishment for him.”

She agreed. “Well, he did spend some time in there.” Shyla continued her tale. “And now we’re looking for a new Water Prince or Princess,” she concluded.

Jayden sat there, absorbing all the information. “Why not you?”

“I have a job.”

“Then I’d say Orla would be best.”

“We thought she’d be second best. We’ve another candidate in mind.”

“Who?”

“Mojag.”

“Mojag? Are you serious?”

“No. I’m kidding.”

He smiled—the first genuine smile since his betrayal was exposed. “Can you imagine Mojag in charge?”

“I can. It would be—”

“Fun?”

“I was going to say chaotic, but there certainly would be an element of fun. However, we’re considering you for the position.”

Jayden opened his mouth and closed it several times. “Wait. Did you say me?”

“Yes.”

Stunned silence. “Are you insane?”

She huffed. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Because you tend to do things that are not—”

“Careful,” she warned.

“Conventional. And I’m…”

“You’re?”

“Damaged, broken, untrustworthy. I betrayed you to the priestess, even knowing that she would kill you. How can you ever forgive me?”

“Do you want forgiveness?”

He paused as he did some soul searching. She waited.

“Yes,” he said. It was the truth. “I do. But it’s too much to ask of you. Of anyone.” His thoughts turned to Mojag.

“As for me, Hanif reminded me that people are capable of changing should they choose to make the effort. And I’d be a hypocrite if I could forgive Rendor’s past and not yours. He does have the genuine desire to make amends, and I’ve been reading your soul this entire time so—”

“You have? I didn’t feel it.”

“My skills have improved. Desperation is a great teacher, although I wouldn’t recommend it.” She shuddered at her two close calls. “Regardless, do you wish to make amends?”

“Of course I do.” He was surprised by his own vehemence.

“Before we offer you the job, you have to agree to some conditions.”

“What are they?”

“First, no more black cells. We’re going to rebuild the prison, but it’ll have light, and collection stations, and the inmates will help with the city’s maintenance unless the prisoner is really dangerous.”

“That’s a good idea. I agree.”

“Second, no more vagrants. They will become a legitimate part of the city. For those who can’t afford the taxes or tithes, there will be a system in place to help them find a better job. And children under two circuits old will be exempt from both.” They’d finally located the mother of the baby the Arch Deacons had used as bait. As Orla had predicted, the woman couldn’t afford to raise a child, but she’d believed the baby was going to be raised in one of the chapels.

“I’m all for that.”

No surprise—he was the Vagrant Prince after all. And a part of the bargain he’d made with the priestess included helping them.

“Third, the guards are there to protect the people, not police them. They’re to be called protectors.”

“All right.”

“Fourth, all the artifacts and treasures that the Water Prince collected are to be put on public display and made accessible to the historians. Banqui has officially retired, so you might want to consider hiring Aphra as your chief archeologist, but that’s just a recommendation, not a condition.”

“I agree to the museum. And she’s hired.” He swallowed. If she wants to work for me.

“You’re going to have to get over that,” Shyla said.

“Over what?”

“That internal cringing and worrying about whether people will forgive you or not. Just sincerely apologize once and show them by your actions that your intentions are genuine. It’s up to them to forgive you. If they don’t, then move on. You can’t force it.”

“In some cases, moving on will be hard.” Again his thoughts lingered on Mojag.

“No doubt, but nothing about your situation is going to be easy. In fact, this last condition might be a deal breaker.”

“Go on.”

“Because you’re a magic wielder, you have an unfair advantage over the citizens of Zirdai.”

“You don’t want me to use my magic?” His confusion was clear.

“Yes.”

“But I don’t think I can stop…it’s a part of me. And I’ll need it to defend myself—not everyone is going to be happy I’m the new prince. Plus, I think my magic will make me a better leader.”

“We don’t. And you’ll have protectors to defend you.”

He grappled with the implications. “But I can’t just…turn it off.”

“You can’t. But I can.”

He stared at her with a growing horror. “You can do what exactly?”

She explained about closing the power in the seers.

“But you haven’t done it for someone like me! I wasn’t cracked and pulled open like the others.”

“True. You’ll be my first attempt.”

“Your first attempt!” His voice was shrill. Jayden took a few deep breaths. “What if you can’t do it?”

“Then you’ll still have your magic. But you can’t be the Water Prince. You have to decide if you want me to close your magic or not.”

“And if I choose my magic? Then what happens to me?”

“You can return to the Invisible Sword. We plan to operate separately from the city like the monks do. Helping out if needed and keeping a close eye on the new Water Prince and Heliacal Priestess so we don’t have this problem again. Aphra also plans to consult with me on future dig sites.” Shyla was looking forward to that collaboration—to be lost in her maps and research again would be a slice of bliss.

“If I rejoin the Invisible Sword, you’d be able to keep a close eye on me, too.”

“That’s the idea. It’ll take some time for everyone to trust you again. As you know from Rendor’s reception, my word isn’t good enough. You have to prove yourself to them.”

“Can I have some time to think it over?”

“Yes, but not much. We need to fill the position or risk one of the wealthy citizens taking it. I’ll be back in a sun jump.”

“No, please don’t leave me here.”

Shyla remembered when she’d been trapped down here and it was for twelve sun jumps, not thirty-two like Jayden.

“You’ve read my soul, you know I’ve nowhere else to go.”

True, and if he saw the destruction the Heliacal Priestess caused, it might help him with his decision. She pulled the key to the cuff around Jayden’s ankle from her pocket.

“Don’t try anything, or I won’t pull my punches this time,” she said as she moved closer to him.

“Of all your skills, your fists are the least of my worries,” he said with a grin. “Don’t forget, I’ve a hard head.”

“I didn’t forget. My elbow still hurts,” she mock-grumbled as she freed him from the chain. Shyla braced for his reaction, but he only rubbed the raw flesh around his ankle.

Then he straightened and said, “Where to?”

“Where else? Level ninety-seven.”

She led him through the city. Keeping to the edges out of habit, she wondered when she’d be comfortable in crowded, public places. Perhaps never, or perhaps when the people embraced their new sun-kissed priestess.

Only two guards watched the entrance to the complex.

“Any trouble?” she asked them.

“A contingent of elders from the wealthy families has demanded to speak to the person in charge,” the man on the left reported.

That didn’t take long. “What did you do?”

“We reported it to Captain Rendor, and he escorted them to Hanif.”

“How long ago?”

“Ten, maybe twelve angles.”

“Thanks.”

She hurried through the door with Jayden right behind her. The meeting would not go well and she needed to be there to help Hanif. But where should she take Jayden? Perhaps Gurice was in their conference room. Shyla spotted Mojag instead.

“Mojag,” she called.

He turned and froze when he spotted Jayden.

“Hi, Mojag,” Jayden said.

Ignoring Jayden, Mojag gazed at her, his expression as hard as stone. “Do you need something, Shyla?” His words were clipped with anger. Mojag had been the only one who disagreed about Jayden.

Oh boy. “Can you take Jayden to one of the empty guest suites? I need to rescue Hanif from a bunch of entitled elitists.”

“That traitor is dead. Excuse me, but my darling sister has assigned me to rubble clean-up duty.” He left without glancing at Jayden.

Wow. She didn’t need to read Jayden’s soul to know that Mojag’s comment had to hurt him like a knife thrust into his heart.

“That’s—”

“All my fault,” Jayden said, staring at Mojag’s retreating form. “And something I’m going to have to get used to.” He turned to her. “Do you have someplace I can get cleaned up? I’m going to join that meeting.”

“Does this mean you’ve made your decision?”

“Yes. I’ll sacrifice my magic to become the Water Prince of Zirdai.”

“I thought you needed time to think about it.”

“I’m doing it for Mojag.”

“He might never forgive you.”

“I know, but if I do my very best as the prince, then maybe in the future I can forgive myself.”

“All right.” She led him to one of the empty guest suites. “There’s a water closet you can use. They just fixed the pipes.”

He nodded. And Shyla took note of his bedraggled clothing. That wouldn’t do for a prince. She flagged down one of the staff—they were no longer called servants—and asked about clean clothes for Jayden. The young woman said she knew just the thing and dashed off.

By the time Jayden had shaved and scrubbed the grime from his body, the lady returned with a red tunic and black pants made from expensive silk. The pants were a little big, but overall the clothing fit well.

“They were the prince’s,” she said before leaving.

Jayden and Shyla glanced at each other.

“That’s a very good sign,” Shyla said.

He laughed. “Since when do you believe in signs?”

“Since I survived an explosion. Come on.”

They reached Hanif’s temporary office, which had been the prince’s main place to do business. Two piles of rubble framed the entrance, which was just big enough for one person to cross. Jayden paused, peering at them.

“This is nothing in comparison to the rest,” she said. “No one died here.”

He smoothed his tunic. “Two hundred and sixty-four.”

“They should never be forgotten.”

“They won’t be.”

Inside the room an angry male voice rose. “Which is why we can’t leave the running of our city in the hands of an amateur.”

“That’s my cue.” Jayden straightened his shoulders and entered the room. “I can assure you the city won’t be run by an amateur,” he said.

Shyla slipped in. About twenty unhappy people sat around the large conference table. Hanif sat on the far end—literally cross-legged on the tabletop with a serene expression on his face, which no doubt infuriated the elders. Rendor stood along the wall with a couple armed protectors. Something about his posture worried Shyla. Did he think these people would riot?

“Who in the seven hells are you?” the same querulous voice asked.

“I am the new Water Prince.”

Jayden’s declaration caused an immediate reaction. And, for a moment, Shyla thought being in the middle of a cave-in was quieter. Hanif grinned at Shyla and left the room, leaving Jayden in charge. Shyla stood next to Rendor in case Jayden used magic to defuse the situation.

However, using the skills he learned over the years with the communes and the Invisible Sword, the Vagrant Prince transformed into the Water Prince. Hanif was bound to gloat the next time they were together. While Jayden took control of the meeting, Shyla scanned the “guests” with her magic. No one said she couldn’t.

Anger, confusion, frustration, greed, and disbelief rolled through them, but nothing dangerous. At least, not yet. Jayden would have to watch his back. Two faces seemed familiar—a young man and his father, their resemblance unmistakable. When the young man glanced at Rendor for the third time, she remembered.

Hastin! Rendor’s older brother. No wonder Rendor was so tense. She laced her fingers with his and gave him an encouraging squeeze. He glanced at her and then visibly relaxed before giving her a squeeze back and releasing her hand. She wasn’t offended—she knew he needed to be ready just in case violence broke out. It didn’t, but a number of poisonous looks were aimed at Jayden as the elders left. Rendor and his men escorted them out.

“You still have a long way to go,” she said to Jayden.

“No kidding.” He looked at her as if in pain. “Are you going to take my magic now?”

“No. I think that should be done in front of everyone.”

Alarmed, he asked, “The entire city?”

“No, just the Invisible Swords, Hanif, Kaveri, and the protectors.”

“Do all the protectors know about wielders?”

“Yes. When Rendor recruited them to our side, he told them. When he was the captain of the Water Prince’s guards, he always told them what was going on if he could. That’s why they trusted him more than Yates.”

“Isn’t Rendor still the captain?”

“He’s my captain, not yours. You’ll have to find your own.”

Jayden was thoughtful. “Perhaps he’ll have some recommendations for me.”

“I’m sure he will.”

After a time was set for Jayden’s unofficial coronation—the official one would be when the King’s emissary arrived—Shyla returned to her room. Rendor was already there. He worked at the desk, assigning shifts. Another thing Jayden would need to do was recruit more protectors.

She told him about the plans for Jayden and mentioned that he would be asking for recommendations, but Rendor was distracted and closed off, reminding her of when she’d first met him. And she didn’t need to read his emotions to know something was bothering him. She only needed on guess to figure out what.

“Time for a break,” she said.

“I need to get this done,” he said, writing team names.

“It wasn’t a suggestion.” This time her voice was firm.

“Huh?” Rendor barely glanced at her. “Just a couple more---”

“Captain, take a break.”

She had his full attention. Fun. However, his scowl wasn’t as fun. Shyla took his hands in hers. “Do you really care what they think?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your family. Is it important to you that they change their opinions about you?”

He studied her for a few moments. “Are you offering to use your magic?”

“No, but I’m offering you my support if you want to talk to them.”

“They’re not my family. They disowned me.” The words came out flat and emotionless as if he’d repeated this to himself so many times that it no longer hurt to say it.

“There’s been a lot of changes. You’ve changed the most. Plus it’s a new era. And you’re no longer working for the prince, but for me.”

He laughed without humor. “I doubt they’d think that was an improvement.”

“Insult aside, let me ask you again. Do you really care what they think?”

He bent his head, and stared at their clasped hands. Shyla waited as he sorted through his emotions. But before he could reply, Mojag and Gurice poked their heads into the room.

“Are you ready, Rendor?” Gurice asked. “This little sand rat’s driving me crazy.”

“Sand rat? You’re just mad I disarmed you in five moves,” Mojag said.

“Disarmed?” Shyla asked Gurice.

“Yeah, we’re both learning how to fight with a sword.”

“And some of us are quicker to learn,” Mojag added with a smirk.

Shyla glanced at Rendor. He peered at the pair as if seeing them for the first time.

“Uh, Rendor, are you coming? Can’t have a lesson without the instructor,” Gurice said.

“I’ll meet you there in a couple angles. Try not to settle any sibling rivalries with the practice swords before I get there.”

“No promises. Come on, rat.” Gurice pulled Mojag from the room.

Shyla crossed her arms. “You have to answer my question about your family before you can leave.”

“They’re not my family.”

“You said that.”

“Yes, but this time I believe it. Why would I care what they think? They’re not my family.” He pulled her closer. “My family is you and the Invisible Swords.”

She leaned forward so her nose almost touched his. “What a coincidence, they’re my family, too.”

“And me?”

“You’re just mine.”

They assembled in the training room. It was the only space big enough for the one hundred and three protectors, thirty-five Invisible Swords, one monk, the Heliacal Priestess, and the interim Water Prince. If this didn’t work, they’d need to find another interim prince or princess.

Jayden stood in the front with Shyla. There was a bucket of sand between them. She’d explained to the crowd that Jayden had voluntarily agreed to give up his magic. And then added the disclaimer that this might not work. Gurice gave them both an encouraging thumbs-up. She was sitting in the front with Rendor and a number of the Invisible Swords who knew Jayden. Mojag was as far away as physically possible and his back was turned toward them. If Shyla hadn’t ordered him, he wouldn’t be here at all.

“Ready?” she asked Jayden.

“No, but I doubt I’ll ever be ready.” He took a deep breath. “Please continue.”

“Use your magic to move the sand.”

Jayden stared at the bucket. Grains of sand rose into the air. They converged and formed a young woman around Shyla’s age made of sand. Murmurs raced through the crowd at the display. Most of the protectors hadn’t seen magic in action. The sound piqued Mojag’s interest and he glanced over his shoulder. The sand woman smiled at the boy.

“Is that your sister?” Shyla asked Jayden.

“Yes. Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“She is.”

“This is how I’ll always remember her. I thought she’d be perfect for my last sculpture.”

“She is.” Shyla focused on him.

Jayden’s entire body glowed with magic. Not like an open druk lantern at all. Head to toe, he was filled. When she tried to close it, the power found a way to escape; it was like trying to put too much water into a skin. She needed to switch tactics. If she couldn’t squash it, perhaps she could drain it. Shyla tugged on his magic, pulling it from him like unraveling a ball of yarn.

He hunched over with a grunt of pain. The sculpture began losing shape as the grains fell back into the bucket. Then he cried out and went down on his knees as Shyla collected more and more of his power. While she had access to his mind, she erased his memories of the location of the Invisible Sword’s headquarters and the tunnel they were building to connect it to Zirdai. If Jayden turned into another despot—doubtful, but better to be safe—she didn’t want him knowing where to find them.

When she ripped the last thread from his soul, he screamed and the ball of magic in her hands exploded. The invisible blast sent her flying across the room while Jayden was pushed in the opposite direction.

She had no memory of hitting the floor.

Rendor was next to her when she woke. Everyone was on their feet and glancing between her and Jayden.

“How is he?” she asked.

“Like you, knocked out.” He helped her sit up. “Zhek says he should be fine.”

“Did it work?” Gurice asked.

“Give her some time,” Rendor snapped.

“It’s okay.” She stood but grabbed Rendor’s arm for support. Thankfully, he kept quiet as he assisted her over to Jayden.

Jayden was still sitting on the floor. He rubbed his chest absently. “I feel empty.”

“Can you move the sand?” she asked.

He stared at the bucket. Nothing happened. No glow inside him. Shyla thought she was going to be sick. How could she do that to another person? Turning away to avoid his reaction, she said, “It worked.”

As Rendor guided her from the room, they passed Mojag. He was staring at Jayden as if he’d never seen him before. It was better than anger. They didn’t get far before Shyla sagged against Rendor.

“Should I find Zhek?” he asked, scooping her up.

“It’s not something he can cure.” She snuggled against his warm, broad chest. “Take me home please.”

The King’s emissary arrived two hundred sun jumps after the defeat. Shyla decided that “defeat” was the best way to describe the events leading up to the deaths of the Water Prince and Heliacal Priestess. By then, Jayden was working hard to enact all the conditions he’d promised. And Kaveri had fully embraced her new role. She’d banned the green robes because the people no longer trusted the green anymore. Too many bad memories. They all wore yellow tunics and pants instead.

Hanif was back at the monastery, but he frequently visited the priestess. And the Invisible Swords had returned to the Temple of Arinna. They’d made progress in cleaning out the temple and finished the hidden tunnel into Zirdai. Best of all, in her and Rendor’s new room was the biggest, thickest, softest sleeping cushion she could buy.

The emissary interviewed almost everyone involved with the defeat. He spent half a dozen sun jumps inspecting the destruction and visiting all the chapels in Zirdai. Gurice said he even talked to the university’s professors. However, he didn’t question Shyla. In fact, he actively avoided her, which was odd. Did he think she’d lie to him? Or was he one of those people who believed sun-kisseds should be sacrificed to the Sun Goddess? His strange behavior caused worry to simmer in her guts.

Everyone agreed they wouldn’t mention magic or that The Eyes were anything but priceless artifacts that caused the prince and priestess to go to war. They did inform him about the role of the Invisible Swords in the defeat. History was on their side. Yet the King was known to be alarmed by groups like theirs. He feared being overthrown, which was why he had amassed such a large and well-trained army.

Would he consider Shyla dangerous to his rule? He shouldn’t. She’d refused to become Zirdai’s Water Princess. But Jayden had told her the emissary didn’t seem to believe him when he explained why Shyla turned down the role. Did the emissary think she had her sights on the King’s job? Why not just ask her?

Everyone released a huge sigh of relief once the emissary concluded that all the events they had reported to the King had been truthful and necessary. He officially approved the appointment of the new Water Prince and Heliacal Priestess. There would be a ceremony and city-wide celebration the next sun jump.

A few angles before the event, Shyla dressed in a new tunic and pants. She decided to leave her wrap behind. Rendor looked…damn fine in his clothes. Too fine.

She yanked on his shirt. “We really don’t need to go. I think we should stay here and…snuggle.”

He stilled her hands. “We have all the time to snuggle. This is an important occasion. One we worked very hard to bring about.”

Rendor was right. And it was a lovely ceremony. Jayden looked handsome and regal and quite smitten with Aphra, his new archeologist. Kaveri shone almost as bright as the sun.

During the party afterwards, someone tapped on her shoulder. Shyla turned to face the King’s emissary.

“Are you Shyla Sun-Kissed?” he asked as if he hadn’t been avoiding her all this time.

Strange. No one had used that name in a long time. “Yes.”

He handed her a thin scroll sealed with wax.

“What’s this?”

“You’ve been summoned to appear before the King of Koraha.