The City of Zirdai

by Maria V. Snyder

  The sun-kissed.

  The sun-kissed.

  The deacon on the left cried out. “It’s her!” He lunged forward, grabbing a man who was a few paces in front of her. “I’ve got the sun-kissed!” Yanking the poor man’s hood down, the deacon tightened his grip on the guy’s shoulders.

  “Are you blind? That’s not the sun-kissed,” his partner said.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “No—”

  The sun-kissed.

  “Watch out. She has a knife!” He pulled his dagger.

  “No. Stop, you idiot.”

  Shyla skirted the two grappling deacons and sent a silent apology to the man she’d used. Striding along one of the well-used paths to avoid leaving footprints, she stopped the image when she was a safe distance away. Then she ducked behind a dune to catch her breath. That little deception cost her. And she doubted it would work a second time. Once the two deacons figured out what had happened and reported it, the priestess would change tactics.

  Even though she was tempted to head straight to the temple, Shyla took a more circuitous route. The effort to smooth out her tracks became a test of her will. The sand grains resisted and moved with a heavy reluctance each time she stopped.

  Her tunic was soaked with sweat when she arrived at the temple. The early angle crew were clearing sand. Gurice dumped her bucket and intercepted Shyla before she reached the entrance.

  “Where’s Rendor?” Gurice asked.

  A sharp pain ringed the empty spot where her heart had been. “He’s not coming back.”

  Gurice was smart enough to avoid asking why. Instead, she squeezed Shyla’s arm in support. “His loss.” She returned to work.

  When Shyla entered the common room on level eight, Jayden was at a table with Aphra. She considered it a win that the treasure hunter had decided to join them. As she approached, Jayden glanced behind her as though expecting Rendor to be there. His gaze returned to her and he studied her expression. He too was smart and didn’t question Rendor’s absence or celebrate it.

  “I was explaining the rules to Aphra,” Jayden said. “Which shift do you want her on?”

  “None of them.” Shyla plopped onto a cushion opposite the woman. She made eye contact, gazing into her golden-brown eyes. “Are you committed to helping us?”

  “Yes,” Aphra said.

  The truth. “Good. I’ve a job for you.” Shyla dug into her pack and removed the map to Gorgain’s crypt. Smoothing it out on the table, she pointed to the grave diggers’ tunnel. “This will lead you right to the crypt. I need you to recover his crown and ruby torque. Can you do it?”

  Aphra studied the scroll. “With the right equipment.”

  “We have people, shovels, buckets, and pulleys.”

  “How many people?”

  “Twenty.”

  “We can’t spare anyone,” Jayden said. “We—”

  Shyla shot him a quelling glare. “This is a priority. We’re running out of osees.”

  “What about the Water Prince’s decree that no one can dig within thirty klicks of Zirdai?” Aphra asked Shyla.

  “One or two of those twenty people will be able to hide your activities from any nosy neighbors.”

  She crossed her arms. “Yeah? How?”

  Too tired to demonstrate, she cocked her head at Jayden.

  “We’ll make you invisible,” he said and then disappeared.

  Aphra jumped and gave Shyla a wild-eyed stare. “Where did he go?”

  “He’s still sitting there.”

  Jayden reappeared. “You’re no fun.”

  “That’s one of the reasons we’re called the Invisible Sword,” she said to Aphra, ignoring him.

  “Can I do that?”

  “No,” Jayden said.

  “Why not?”

  Good question. Shyla waited.

  “You don’t have the potential.” Jayden explained how magic worked.

  Aphra studied him. “I’m confident, intelligent, and resourceful. And I’ve been in plenty of terrifying circumstances.”

  “You forgot modest,” Jayden quipped. Then he sobered. “I just don’t…feel the potential within you. It’s hard to describe.”

  Curious, Shyla pushed him to put the feeling into words.

  He shot her a sour look. “It’s a gut instinct.”

  She recalled that not everyone who had been tested taps into the power. And Jayden had dismissed the possibility of Mojag having magic rather quickly. Perhaps his gut instinct wasn’t that accurate. “What do you feel when you encounter another Invisible Sword who can wield magic?”

  “Probably the same as you,” he hedged.

  “Humor me.”

  “There’s an instant connection. Like we’re family. But you have to remember, I know everyone who can wield magic.” He paused and glanced at Aphra. “She doesn’t have that essence that makes me think she could be family. That’s what I mean by gut feeling.”

  Shyla had experienced a similar bond with the other wielders. But she never picked up on an essence of potential. Then again, she was new to magic. Perhaps she needed to experiment. She scrutinized Aphra. Did she have potential? Was her magic like a locked door inside her, just waiting for a traumatic event to crack it open?

  “Are you doing that soul reading thing?” Aphra asked in alarm. “I like you, but I don’t want you to read my innermost thoughts and feelings.”

  “No, I’m not. Sorry, just trying to pick up on Jayden’s gut instinct.”

  “You know that sounds weird, right?”

  “I do. Okay, back to Gorgain. Do you think you can get his treasures?”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem,” Aphra said.

  “Can you do it in eighteen sun jumps?”

  “Now we have a problem.”

  Shyla tapped the map. “What do you need to get it done in time?”

  “More people.”

  “There’s thirty—no, twenty-nine of us. Will that be enough?”

  “It’ll depend on the condition of the site. Will your people follow my orders?”

  “Regarding the dig, yes. If we need to hide from any patrols, then we’re in charge.”

  “Fair enough.” Aphra examined the edges of the scroll where a series of ancient symbols marked the geospatial location of the temple on Koraha.

  “Do you need me to translate those grid lines for you?” Shyla asked.

  “I wouldn’t have been a very good treasure hunter if I couldn’t do it myself.” She winked then glanced at the sand clock. “There should be enough time for me to scout out the temple and mark the entrance to the grave diggers’ escape route.”

  “Good. Jayden, go with her.”

  “Now?” he asked.

  Aphra rolled up the scroll and stood. “Yes, now.”

  He wasn’t happy, but he went to retrieve his sun cloak.

  Aphra gestured to the table. “They saved some fresh fruit for you.”

  That was kind. Too bad she didn’t have an appetite.

  “I take it things like fresh food are rare here?” Aphra asked.

  “For now. I’ve plans once we earn more coins.” She waited for the familiar frustration to well up inside her, but, with their recent success in freeing those people from the confession rooms, it didn’t push quite as hard. And perhaps doing small rescues or acts of kindness would balance the more mundane tasks like shoveling sand for the rest of the Invisible Swords.

  After grabbing a few slices of melon, Shyla headed to her room, needing more time to recover her strength. She lay on her thin mat, intending to sleep, but thoughts of Rendor invaded.

  He’d been willing to prove himself to the Invisible Swords before she’d made that stupid speech. She should have kept her mouth shut and let him figure out how to get people for his team. Still, she expected he wouldn’t give up on proving himself so easily. Did he want her to chase after him? Had she given up too soon? Time was a luxury she didn’t have and her first priority should be helping the people in Zirdai—not he
r love life or the lack of one. So she allowed the hurt and pain and unanswerable questions to fill her until she could no longer hold it in. Sobbing, she curled into a ball, purging all her emotions until nothing was left but grim determination. She’d focus on work and stop wasting time and energy on Rendor.

  She woke at angle one-seventy and found Jayden in the common room. “Did Aphra locate the temple?”

  “Yes. She already took a crew out to uncover the entrance to the grave diggers’ tunnel. Ximen is with them.”

  “Good.”

  Jayden scrubbed a hand over his face. “We can’t give her all our people, Shyla. We need to dig a tunnel to Zirdai. Going in and out through the surface buildings is becoming too dangerous.”

  “I know. We need to recruit more members.”

  “And how are we going to do that?”

  “I’ve a few ideas, but let’s wait until Ximen returns. They shouldn’t be too much longer.”

  Jayden grunted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they worked well into the darkness.” Then he leaned back. “If we do get more members, where will we house them? We don’t even have enough room for us.”

  A good point. She considered the problem. “Are there any abandoned vagrant communes?” she asked.

  “Yeah, but there’s a reason no one lives there—the guards know where they are.”

  “Perhaps Orla will rent us some space in her commune. Or she might know a good spot. It’ll only be for a short time.” She ignored his lack of enthusiasm. Instead, she searched for Gurice.

  She found her playing a game of dice with Mojag in the room he shared with Jayden and Ximen on level ten.

  “That’s two peepers in a row. You’re cheating,” Mojag accused his sister.

  “Hardly. It’s all in the wrist.” She demonstrated by rolling another set of peepers. “See?”

  He crossed his arms and glared at her. “How do I know you’re not using magic?”

  “She isn’t,” Shyla said, coming into the small room.

  “Says another magic wielder.”

  Gurice threw her hands up in the air. “See? This is why I didn’t tell you about magic. I knew you’d accuse me of using it to influence you. And, as much as I was tempted, and believe me, I was very tempted a number of times, I never used it on you.”

  Mojag failed to appear mollified.

  Gurice shook her head, then turned to Shyla. “Did you need something?”

  “Yes, I was hoping for your help.”

  The woman sprang to her feet. “What do you need?”

  “You and Mojag.”

  They waited for her to continue.

  “You can say no. There won’t be any hard feelings or a change in our…friendship.”

  “Just spit it out,” Gurice said.

  “I want to read your souls and see if I can find out why you have magic and if Mojag has the potential.”

  “I thought you already read mine,” Mojag said.

  “I only picked up on your surface emotions and thoughts. Nothing deeper.”

  Gurice laughed. “That’s about right, there’s nothing deeper.”

  “Hey!” Mojag protested. “Is this important?” he asked Shyla. “Will it help us?”

  “Yes to both.”

  “All right.”

  She looked at Gurice who spread her arms wide and said, “I’m all yours. Just don’t blame me if you start having bad dreams.”

  In order to have some privacy, they went up to Shyla’s room on level nine.

  “Gurice, you’re first,” Shyla said, sitting on a threadbare cushion.

  Mojag leaned his shoulder against the wall, watching them.

  “Lucky me.” Gurice crossed her legs as she settled on another poor excuse for a cushion, facing Shyla. “What do I have to do?”

  Shyla lowered her shield and stared into Gurice’s light green eyes. Or, rather, she tried. “Relax. This won’t hurt.”

  “I’ve heard that before,” Gurice muttered, but she released a long breath and met Shyla’s gaze.

  Despite Gurice’s bravado and dry humor, the woman was apprehensive about having Shyla read her soul. She liked the sun-kissed, even considered her a good friend, but what if her secrets scared her off?

  “I’m not going to uncover all your secrets,” Shyla said, trying to reassure her.

  What about her fears about the viability of the Invisible Sword? Gurice worried they’d never return to full strength. Never achieve any of their goals.

  “Stop fretting.” All of Gurice’s chatter was blocking her.

  “Then stop reminding me that you’re reading my thoughts,” Gurice shot back.

  Shyla paused. Was it nerves or Gurice’s magic that prevented her from delving deeper? Perhaps she needed to change tactics. “Imagine you’re standing in the desert, preparing to erase your tracks with magic. You can close your eyes if you need. I’ve already established a connection.”

  “Does that mean we’ll be connected all the time?”

  “No. After this, I’ll break our link and I won’t invade your privacy without permission.”

  Gurice bit her lower lip then touched Shyla’s arm. “If something bad happens like we’re being attacked and you need to…read me, you have my permission. I trust you.”

  And with that, Gurice finally relaxed. Shyla briefly covered Gurice’s hand with her own. “Thank you. Now imagine—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She closed her eyes and soon her thoughts filled with rolling dunes. “Got it.”

  Shyla let the scene encompass her as well. She stood next to Gurice. One set of footprints marked the otherwise smooth sand. Gurice held a hand out with her palm down.

  “Now erase the tracks,” she ordered.

  They disappeared, but there wasn’t a change within Gurice.

  “Did you wield magic?” she asked.

  “I pretended to. I can’t use real magic on an imaginary desert.”

  Of course! Shyla bit down on a groan. “Mojag, can you bring that bucket of sand over here?”

  He lugged the container and set it between the two women.

  Gurice scrunched up her nose. “Uh, that’s not exactly my forte.”

  “Doesn’t matter as long as you use your magic on the sand.”

  “All right, but you’ve been warned and if sand gets all over your room, I’m not cleaning it up.”

  “Noted.”

  Gurice reached out so her hand hovered over the bucket.

  “Why do you do that?” Shyla asked.

  “It helps me focus and aim. Otherwise, I’ll spray sand in your face.” She gave her a pointed look.

  “Okay, I’ll be quiet.”

  After a few moments, a bright yellow glow filled Gurice as if someone had uncovered a druk lantern deep inside her. The light intensified and filled her, but Shyla only saw it through their link and not with her own eyes. An odd disconnection.

  Soon, the sand grains lifted into the air and shifted, forming a…lumpy sleeping cushion…no…a…sand snake that had just eaten a rat? The glow disappeared and the sand sculpture thudded back into the bucket.

  Mojag peered at his sister as if seeing her for the first time. “That was cool. But why did you make a dead rat with a really long tail?”

  “It was a velbloud with a tether,” Gurice said, sounding offended.

  “Clearly.” But Shyla couldn’t suppress a grin.

  “Everyone’s a critic.” Gurice crossed her arms. “Was there a point to this exercise?”

  “Yes. Did you see a…anything unusual when you used your magic?”

  “Other than the sand blob,” Mojag added unhelpfully.

  After shooting the boy a glare, she said, “No. Nothing different. Why?”

  “Mojag, did you see anything?”

  “Just the floating sand.”

  “Can you do it again?” Shyla asked. This time she put her shield back in place, blocking both the siblings’ thoughts.

  “All right.” Gurice concentrated.

  This
time a…scroll formed above the bucket. No light emanated inside the woman.

  “Jerky?” Mojag asked.

  A sigh. “No. It was a shovel.” She released it. “And, before you ask, no I didn’t see anything unusual. Did this help you?”

  “I think it did. Now, I just need to test my theory. Mojag?”

  “Yes?” His voice squeaked.

  “Your turn.” She removed the shield.

  He hesitated but then exchanged places with Gurice. Meeting Shyla’s gaze with an almost bold defiance, he braced as if awaiting a blow. This magic thing was still new to him even though he had known Jayden and his sister were hiding things from him. Hurt feelings over not being confided in mixed with jealousy. Figured she’d be able to do magic. Things always seemed to work out for his sister. He knew he shouldn’t be like that—she raised him after their parents were murdered—he was grateful and—

  “Mojag, focus on…” Shyla considered. He couldn’t manipulate the sand or influence anyone. But he had other…talents. “Can you slip out of the temple without anyone seeing you?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. It depends.”

  “How about you try?”

  “Now?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll follow at a discreet distance.”

  “And when I get out?”

  Interesting that he used when and not if. “Just come back here.”

  “All right.” Mojag scrambled off the cushion and paused by her door.

  A faint yellow light shone from him right before he peeked through the curtain. It wasn’t nearly as bright as Gurice’s. Almost as if the druk inside him was only cracked open a hair. Shyla trailed him. Whenever he was in danger of being seen, that thin ribbon of light flared. Completely unaware he was using magic, Mojag left the temple without anyone the wiser.

  He returned with a cocky smirk on his face. “That was too easy. Next time give me a real challenge.”

  “Are you going to explain what you’re doing now?” Gurice asked.

  “Not yet.” She worked with them both until she was able to identify their inner…druk…without having to witness them using magic. Its heavy presence really reminded her of the lantern—it seemed a vital and solid part of them. And then she had to decide what to tell Mojag. Could she open that druk all the way? Shyla wondered what had happened to him to crack it. Perhaps it was the death of his parents.