Return.
When she reached the top she spied a number of monks.
Look away.
Return.
Then she went down into the shallow valley and up another dune.
Look away.
Return.
And repeat.
It was slow going. After two more dunes, she spotted the single-story structure that marked the entrance to the monastery. Unlike Zirdai’s colorful surface buildings, it was unremarkable, blending in with the surrounding desert. Only its straight lines gave it away as unnatural and man-made.
Four monks were stationed around the entrance and one was on duty inside. Shyla thrust her will toward all five, and they suddenly found various other areas of the desert very fascinating.
The pace was brutal, draining her energy with every step. But she was determined. By the time she entered the building, she dripped with sweat. The rectangular space contained only one bench. Large windows had been carved into the walls. Velbloud curtains hung limply, covering them. Sitting cross-legged on the bench was a monk, the official greeter to those seeking solace or shelter or directions—it was easy to get lost in the desert. Like all the monks, she wore a tunic, pants, and dillo leather boots. Everything matched the color of the sand. The monks stationed in the desert also wore turbans and veils to protect their skin from the sun.
Shyla didn’t recognize the monk, but that wasn’t a surprise. The children raised in the monastery didn’t spend much time with the majority of the monks. Not until they turned eighteen circuits old and took the oath, pledging their loyalty to Parzival and the King of Koraha. Even after all this time, Shyla still wasn’t sure who exactly Parzival was. The monks worshipped the Sun Goddess, but Parzival must be the founder of the order. There were other monasteries throughout their world and all within a few kilometers of a major city. Not to teach or aid the people—what a radical concept—but to keep an eye on them as the King’s spies.
Slipping past the greeter, Shyla descended the stairs into cool semi-darkness. She relaxed, releasing all those monks from her magical hold. When she reached the monastery’s receiving room on level two, she sat on the floor, taking a few angles to recover. Unless she spent the rest of the sun jump here, she wouldn’t have enough energy to sneak past the monks on her way out. Guess they’d just be surprised to see her.
The monks embraced the sunlight and they’d installed long mirror pipes throughout the monastery to bring the light from the surface to the depths. Warm golden light shone in the area set aside for visitors. It appeared they weren’t expecting visitors this sun jump, as normally a couple monks stood guard in here, ensuring no one wandered into private areas or tried to enter one of the four Rooms of Knowledge. They protected knowledge like a miser hoarding coins. Shyla never understood why. Everyone should have equal access, but you had to be a monk to enter those rooms—with one exception. She was allowed to enter two.
Once she regained some of her strength, she headed down to Hanif’s office on level eleven. She used the look away command on the few people she encountered. Influencing one person seemed easy compared to the twelve on the surface.
Hanif’s door was ajar. She’d never seen it closed. Voices drifted from the opening. The conversation went from an undecipherable murmur to clear speech as she neared. She stopped outside, debating whether she should wait here or retreat to give her father some privacy. As she backed away, she caught a snippet of the discussion.
“…Water Prince is not pleased,” said a familiar male voice.
She froze and tried to place the voice. Its deep timbre stirred fear in her heart.
“It’s not my concern if the Water Prince is pleased or not,” Hanif said.
“It should be. Especially if he decides to withhold your water rations.”
“The King would not be pleased by your threat, Captain.”
Clamping a hand over her mouth, Shyla blocked her gasp. Captain Yates! The man who had replaced Rendor as the prince’s captain of the guard. What was he doing here?
“By the time the King learns of your hardship, it will be too late,” Yates said. “Just tell us where the sun-kissed is and we’ll stop bothering you.”
“For the fifth time, Captain, I do not know where she it.”
“I do not believe you,” Yates said.
An irritated sigh. “You’re welcome to search the monastery. If you find her, we will not interfere.”
Four
What colossally bad timing. Shyla needed to leave the monastery right away. Except she didn’t have a great deal of energy. Avoiding the captain as he searched shouldn’t be too difficult, but she needed to stay hidden from everyone so they didn’t have to lie about knowing her location.
“You’ll allow us to search the Rooms of Knowledge?” Yates asked.
“No. They are off-limits, but you can look everywhere else,” Hanif replied.
“That’s ridiculous. She could be hiding in one of them.”
“She isn’t.”
“I can’t take your word for it.”
They continued to argue, but Shyla tuned them out. Maybe she could wait until Yates left and then hide in Hanif’s office, where no one would think to look for her. Then it hit her. She’d been thinking like a sun-kissed, hiding and scurrying away. Not like Shyla Sun-Kissed, leader of the Invisible Sword.
Making a bold—stupid?—decision, Shyla strode into Hanif’s office as if she did it every sun jump.
“Hello, Captain Yates. I hear you’re looking for me,” she said.
Poor Hanif’s face drained of all color while his mouth dropped open. Yates jumped from his seat and brandished his sword in an impressive display of speed.
Yates aimed the tip of his blade at Shyla’s throat. “You’re under arrest.”
Not as tall as Rendor, but just as muscular with thick arms and broad shoulders, Yates radiated menace. She met his gaze and read his soul.
Excitement sizzled through him. He had finally caught the cursed sun-kissed. After all the failures, the prince would be very pleased. Yates just knew she was hiding in the monastery despite the prince’s claims she wouldn’t be that stupid.
Shyla pressed her lips together. Not stupid enough to hide here, but idiotic enough to come visit the same sun jump as the captain.
“Care to explain this?” Yates asked Hanif.
“I…” Hanif shot her a panicked glance. “What are you doing here?”
“Come on, don’t try that nonsense,” Yates said.
“I wanted to surprise you,” she said to her father.
“Mission accomplished.”
She smiled then concentrated on the captain, pushing her magic at him. “Captain Yates, you searched the monastery and didn’t find me.”
“What are you talking about? You’re standing right here.”
Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so confident. She glanced at his neck; he wasn’t wearing a torque. Increasing her efforts, she tried again. “You searched and didn’t find me.”
“I did?” he asked with a hint of confusion, fighting to remember. The tip of his sword dipped down. It snapped back. “No. You’re here.”
Son of a sand demon, the man was fighting back. Perhaps she could recruit him. And perhaps she could fly. Both scenarios were equally likely at this point.