The City of Zirdai

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The City of Zirdai Page 33

by Maria V. Snyder


  Ilan cradled Cat Toy and beamed.

  “I can’t wait to feel the sun on my face again,” Kaveri said, shivering.

  “You’re going to have to fill in as the interim Heliacal Priestess. That means you’ll have a sun ceremony every angle zero,” Hanif said.

  She brightened until Gurice and Mojag arrived with bad news.

  “They found Ximen’s body,” Gurice said.

  Shyla sucked in a breath as pain dug its claws into her stomach and twisted. Hard. Mojag hung his head. The boy looked exhausted. He’d seen too much death in his short life.

  “He’s the last of the Invisible Swords,” Gurice said. “We lost fifteen members plus the twenty-three who’d been captured.”

  That was too many. There were only thirty-four surviving members. She glanced at Rendor. Would he be number thirty-five?

  After everyone left, she continued working on the list of deceased guards. At one hundred and seventy-five, it was considerably longer than the Invisible Swords. And they hadn’t dug through all the rubble yet. Twenty-two guards were still unaccounted for and are presumed dead. That left one hundred and three survivors. Seventeen prisoners died along with a dozen servants. If she included the missing, the total equaled two hundred and sixty-four.

  Fatigue and overwhelming grief pressed on her. For Ximen, Elek, Lian, and the others. Its crushing weight made every breath a colossal effort. Heartsick, Shyla hunched over the desk, staring at the names. The Invisible Sword had won. They’d overthrown the Water Prince and Heliacal Priestess and stopped the horrors. So why didn’t it feel like they’d won?

  Angles later, she dragged her battered and bruised body from the desk to the sleeping cushion. She pulled back the fur and froze.

  Rendor stared at her. His gaze was clear and focused. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

  And just like that, her energy returned in one blazing rush. “I agree.” She hugged him. Hard. He grunted in pain but squeezed her back with equal fervor.

  “I thought you were a dream,” he whispered in her ear. “The floor swallowed you like a mythical sand beast. No one could live through that.” He slid his hands along her back as if reassuring himself of her presence. “You’re alive.”

  “I am equally surprised.”

  “What happened? How—”

  Shyla silenced him with a kiss. “I’ll tell you the entire saga later. For now, I want to just be in this moment. With you.”

  “I’m all yours.”

  They buried the fallen in batches of roughly forty people at a time. Family members gathered, tears were shed, hugs were exchanged, stories told, and festivities were thrown to bid the deceased a fond farewell and best wishes for their next lives with the Sun Goddess. Kaveri officiated the seven mass burials.

  Shyla, Rendor, and Hanif attended all the ceremonies. Hanif was anxious for a replacement Water Prince and wished to return to his duties at the monastery. Unlike Kaveri, who had embraced her new role and went from “filling in” to becoming the new Heliacal Priestess.

  When all the people had been buried, Shyla focused on her next task. She gathered with Gurice and Jaft—her new seconds—and Rendor.

  They sat in a conference room on level ninety-seven. Cleanup and repairs of the water pipes was ongoing, but it would take a few circuits for the complex to be fully restored.

  “We need a new Water Prince or Water Princess,” Shyla said. “Hanif doesn’t want the job. Do you think Orla would be a good choice? Her commune is not only the biggest but the most organized.”

  No one said anything. They all stared at her. Their gazes rested heavily on her.

  Finally Rendor broke the silence. “Shyla, you know who Zirdai needs. Stop procrastinating.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Yes, we know,” Gurice said. “Busy procrastinating.”

  She crossed her arms and pouted. Her own people had turned against her. Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration. And they might have a small point.

  The last thing Shyla wanted to do was talk to Jayden, but it appeared she’d run out of options.

  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 b
eing 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?”
r />   “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.”

 

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