Gathering her power, she made eye contact with each one. None wore torques. Although, after this, she doubted the priestess would make that mistake again. And none were Iskemu, the deacon who’d backhanded her and cut off her hair. She made a silent promise to get him next time. Then she pushed her magic toward all of them.
“The Sun Goddess has sent me here to commend you on your efforts,” she said.
The deacons preened.
“She applauds your ability to rehabilitate so many lost souls. You’ve done such a good job there are no more souls that need your dispensations and you’ve released them all.” Shyla mustered her strength and targeted each deacon. She caught a glimpse of Mojag carrying a bloody child from one of the confessionals. Heat built inside her as her fury grew. She channeled it toward the deacons. “In fact, if you harm another person in the Sun Goddess’s name, you will suffer as well. You will feel unspeakable pain as if your soul is on fire.” The words seared the air and her throat burned.
Jayden glanced at her in surprise. She’d no idea where that came from or if it would work, but she was too angry to think clearly. The desire to stop their hearts pulsed within her. But she remembered her orders not to kill another unless it was in self-defense.
Instead, she dragged up the last of her energy and commanded them.
Sleep.
They dropped like a ceiling during a cave-in. Unfortunately, so did she. Jayden hurried over and helped her stand.
“What did I tell you about using all your energy?” he asked, wrapping her arm around his shoulders.
“Not to do it.” The chapel spun around her.
“It was a rhetorical question. Come on.”
“But…the people…”
“Are being helped by the others. We need to get out of the city before the next shift of deacons shows up.”
They climbed to the commune on level thirty-nine and rested. She gulped a glass of yellow-colored water that Zhek handed to her before rushing to tend to the others. He’d mixed a restorative in the liquid. At least she hoped that was what tinted it yellow and not his sleeping drug. Good thing Zhek had returned from the monastery in time.
While she caught her breath, Jayden and Mojag gathered the supplies they’d purchased. They said goodbye to Orla, who thanked them.
“Feel free to spread the rumor that it was the Invisible Sword and not you,” Shyla said. “I don’t want you to experience any backlash.”
“Don’t worry about us, dear. We’ve handled worse.” Orla shooed them out. “Better hurry.”
They only had twenty angles to ascend thirty-nine levels. It was doable in most circumstances, but this wasn’t one of them. Shyla soon lagged behind. Jayden tried to help her, but her legs wouldn’t last long. If he had to carry her out, they’d draw too much attention.
“Go,” she said when they reached level twenty-three. “Take Mojag and get to headquarters.”
“No.”
“It’s not a request. And look for Aphra, she might be waiting near the north exit.” Shyla described the woman.
“Why would she—”
“I’ll explain later.”
“I’m not leaving you.” Jayden crossed his arms—the universal sign of male stubbornness.
“I’ll find a place to rest. Don’t worry.”
“You can’t protect yourself if you’re passed out.”
“I’m going to collapse right here if you don’t stop wasting time. It’s an order. Take Mojag and go.”
“You’re not in your right mind. I’m not—ah hells.” Jayden looked over her shoulder. “What are you doing here?”
Huh? Now who wasn’t in his right mind?
“I’ve got her. You go,” Rendor said from behind her.
She spun so fast she ended up on the ground. Peering up and up, she met Rendor’s gaze. She was so happy to see him that she didn’t mind the pain in her hip from the fall.
Jayden cursed. “I thought that was you tracking us.”
Rendor had been following them? She must have really depleted her magical energy.
Jayden sighed, then said, “Stay out of sight. There’s going to be deacons searching the city for her and stationed at all the exits.”
“She’ll be safe,” Rendor said.
“Make sure she’s back at headquarters by the next sun jump.”
“Only if she’s recovered and it’s safe.”
Jayden grunted. “Come on, Mojag, we need to hurry.”
The boy gave her a wide-eyed look before following Jayden.
Rendor crouched down next to her. “We have to stop meeting like this.”
Oh no, he didn’t get to tease her. Not after leaving her like that and not letting her explain. Despite being glad to see him, Shyla punched him on the arm, but the blow was weak. She opened her mouth to demand he explain why he’d left.
“Not here.” Rendor pulled her to her feet. “Can you walk?”
“It depends.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Yes, it is. Are we going up, down, or lateral?”
“I can carry you.”
She crossed her arms.
“Fine. It’s two levels down and half a klick south.”
“Then, yes, I can.” She gestured for him to lead the way.
They walked in silence. Rendor adjusted to her pace as it changed from slow to lumbering to a painful trudge. The tunnel’s walls and floor softened around her. When had her legs become so heavy? Perhaps she’d been overly confident about her energy level.
“We need to keep moving,” Rendor said.
Huh? She had stumbled to a stop.
“This isn’t the best spot—”
“Then go. I didn’t ask for help.” She didn’t have the strength to glare at him even though a part of her acknowledged she was the one behaving badly.
He growled, then dipped down, swept her off her feet, and threw her over his shoulder. “We don’t have time for this, either.”
She squawked in protest, but he ignored her. Soon his smooth and silent ground-eating strides lulled her to sleep. A change in movement roused her enough to note she no longer hung off his shoulder. Instead a softness cushioned her prone body. A fur being pulled up to her chin was the last thing she remembered.
When she woke, she was comfortable, warm, and alone. Disappointment seared through her over that last one. A druk glowed with a reddish light, illuminating the small room that barely contained the sleeping cushion. Her pack rested on the floor next to her. Sitting up, she dug for her water skin. Her sore muscles complained, but the bone-deep fatigue was gone. After gulping enough water to un-shrivel her tongue, she found a roll of jerky and ate it without really tasting it—a good thing.
Her thoughts swirled. What was she going to say to Rendor? During all those angles searching for him, she’d been too focused on the hunt when she should have been composing an…apology? Yes. An apology.
The food and water revived her further. She clambered from the cushion—an uncoordinated and graceless endeavor. A newborn gamelu gained its feet with more aplomb. Granted, she was unused to the cushion’s extra thickness. She paused. Her thin sleeping mat at the temple was pathetic in comparison. Not much of an enticement for Rendor to return. And why the sudden focus on a cushion? Because it was easier than facing Rendor.