“Great. Thank you.”
“Good luck.”
“You, too.” Hopefully everything would go well for the ex-treasure hunter. Then it hit her—perhaps Aphra would want to join them. She’d be a valuable asset to the organization. The woman had always treated Shyla like an equal and not some pariah. Plus Aphra wouldn’t have to worry about surviving on her own. “Wait. Do you want to join us?”
“The vagrants? No, thank you.”
“No, we’re not…” How to explain? And could Shyla trust her? She kept a light touch on Aphra’s emotions. If she spooked and planned to betray them, Shyla could erase Aphra’s memories of their encounter. “We’re the Invisible Sword.” Shyla braced for laughter.
But Aphra peered at her. “Like in Tamburah’s time?”
One of the benefits of being a successful treasure hunter was that you became an expert in history.
“Yes.”
“You found The Eyes.”
Aphra had been one of the few people who’d actually paid attention to a sun-kissed. Shyla stepped close to a druk, testing the woman’s observational skills. “I did.”
She studied Shyla. “You have pretty blue eyes. What would I have to do as a member?”
As briefly as possible, Shyla explained what they hoped to do.
Now the woman laughed. “Is that all?”
“It’s going to take some time.”
“You ain’t kidding. Do your members get paid?”
“No. You get shelter, food, water, and a good feeling by helping others. And if we overthrow the Water Prince, the new leader will be in need of an experienced and trustworthy archeologist.”
“If.” She huffed. “And the risks?”
“Besides the obvious ones?”
“Yeah, sorry. Let me think about it.”
Shyla didn’t sense any duplicitous emotions. “All right. If you decide to join us, we’ll be leaving Zirdai at angle zero, but not this upcoming one, the next one. Meet us near the north exit.”
“Okay.” Aphra hurried to catch up with the other diggers.
Shyla wondered if she’d just made a huge mistake. Would Aphra sell her out? The woman could earn enough coins to not only travel but live in luxury in her new city by telling either the prince or priestess where to find the sun-kissed. Aphra was telling the truth about the professor, and she seemed genuine in considering Shyla’s invitation, but Shyla hadn’t delved any deeper into the woman’s secrets. Why not? Because she was too nice. She didn’t want to invade anyone’s privacy. Shyla needed to start being more…ruthless. Lives were at stake!
Shyla raced down to level forty-two, hoping to get to Zirdai’s only university before the students and faculty retreated to their rooms for the rest of the darkness. She located the guest quarters then found a dark shadow where she could wait and watch. The majority of people who walked by were either deep in conversation or intent on a scroll in their hands. And the few who were more observant suddenly had the desire to look elsewhere when they passed.
She tried not to think about Rendor. Of course his image immediately pervaded her mind. His harsh words sounded in her ear. Pain and loss filled the vast empty space inside her. Shyla clamped down on those emotions. She’d find him and somehow convince him to return. The right words would come to her by then.
Professor Emeline entered her room at angle two-forty. Aphra had been right, the skinny woman was easy to recognize. It appeared as if someone had grabbed the tip of her nose and yanked it straight down.
Once the woman closed the door, Shyla debated her next move. She did have something to offer the professor, but should she? Aphra had said her contact’s employer studied the artifacts to learn about their history, which was better than the Water Prince who kept everything in his private collection. However, the Invisible Swords needed coins and, if they overthrew the prince, all those treasures would be put on display and made available to the historians. Shyla would make sure of it.
When the corridor was empty, Shyla emerged from her shadow and knocked on the stained glass.
Professor Emeline slid the door open a crack. One eye regarded her. “Yes?”
“I’ve something that you might be interested in.”
The eye narrowed. “Like what?”
“An artifact of great historical significance.”
“Why come to me?”
“Aphra sent me.”
The door slid wider. “Come in.”
After Shyla entered, the professor glanced down the tunnel both ways before closing the door. Trol lanterns lit the room. Their bright yellow light illuminated a decent-sized living area with a desk and work table. She guessed the open archway beyond led to her sleeping quarters.
Emeline studied Shyla, her gaze sweeping her from head to toe. And by the slight sneer, Shyla guessed she was found lacking in some regard.
“What do you have?” the professor asked.
“I’ve a map of Gorgain’s temple.” The scroll had been in her pack since her original client accused Shyla of murder and theft. Although a little wrinkled, it was still legible.
“So?” She feigned a yawn.
“So, the location of his crypt is clearly marked.”
This caused a sharpening of the woman’s interest. “And his diamond and gold crown and ruby torque?”
“Still buried with him. You need only to dig it out.”
“Then your map is worthless.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your Water Prince has made it impossible for anyone to work a dig site within thirty kilometers of Zirdai except for his archeologist.”
Seven hells.
“But if you bring me that crown and torque, and it’s authentic, I’d be happy to pay you more coins than you’ve seen in your lifetime.”
Perfect, except Shyla didn’t have a crew to dig. Actually, she did, but they had so much to do already. And they hadn’t helped anyone yet. Every sun jump people were being tortured, they were dying, and the Invisible Swords were shoveling sand.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Shyla said.
“Don’t wait too long. I’m leaving for home in twenty sun jumps.” Emeline hustled Shyla out the door.
The visit hadn’t gone as she’d expected. Shyla spent most of the trip back to Orla’s commune trying to figure out a fast way to reach Gorgain’s treasures. Before she ducked down the tunnel that would lead her to the back entrance, Shyla paused and checked that no one had followed her or was watching the tunnel.
She reached with her magic and sensed—Rendor! Spinning around, she peered into every shadow, trying to determine his location. A brief moment of alarm flared from him before he moved away, increasing the distance between them until she could no longer sense him.
Son of a sand demon. Shyla wanted to call after him, but the hard stone walls would echo and amplify the sound. People would come to investigate. Plus the heartbreaking fact that he’d seen her and run away…that said a lot.
Disheartened, she returned to Orla’s. The commune was quiet as most of the children were asleep. Mojag and Jayden hadn’t come back yet. Not hungry, but realizing it’d been a while since she’d eaten, Shyla nibbled on a roll of gamelu jerky as she spread the map of Gorgain’s temple on a table. Better to work than to replay Rendor’s rejection.