A male voice said, “If I encounter one more spider web, I’m gonna charge the monks a cleaning fee.”
“I don’t know what all the fuss is about these rooms,” said another man. “There’s nothing here but a bunch of dusty old scrolls and tablets.”
“What did you expect?” a woman asked.
“Golden chalices, bowls filled with precious gems, ancient artifacts.”
“You certainly have quite the imagination,” she said, and her tone implied it wasn’t a compliment.
Weak druk light pierced the map room. Shyla gathered her magic as the light brightened.
“Ugh, there’s a gap under the table. Check it out, Gafna,” the first man ordered.
“Why me?”
“You’re smaller than we are.”
“And smarter, too,” she said, but then she sighed. “You owe me.”
A scrape of a boot was followed by a grunt. Shyla aimed her magic at the woman.
Wall.
But without making eye contact, Shyla had no way to know if her magic was working.
Wall.
“There’s nothing here,” the woman said.
Phew.
“Did you do a hand check?”
Oh no.
Another sigh. “You really want me to get bitten by a spider, don’t you?”
“Better you than me.”
Solid wall.
A hand poked through the shortcut. Shyla bit down on a curse.
“Huh? What the— Uri, get down here and bring that druk!”
“What did you find?” Uri asked.
Shyla sent her magic to the man as well.
Solid wall.
“I don’t know, you big lug. Give me the light.”
A druk was thrust into the map room. Shyla backed away from the shortcut.
Not here.
The female guard stuck her head in. “That was weird.”
“What in seven hells, Gafna. Where’s your head?”
“In some kind of room.” She withdrew. “See for yourself.”
“That’s a solid wall.”
“It looks like one, but it’s not. Isn’t this what Captain Yates said to be on the lookout for?”
This wasn’t going to end well, but Shyla didn’t know what else to do.
Not here.
A big hand with calluses appeared followed by a scowling guard’s face. His surprise didn’t last long. He retreated.
“Block that opening,” he ordered Gafna. “I’m going to find out about that room.”
Not here.
Gafna reappeared, but she stopped so half of her body remained in the First Room. She held her sword and scanned the octagonal space.
Sleep.
The woman blinked a few times and yawned, but she shook off the command. Shyla increased her will.
Sleep.
Gafna’s head dropped. Not wasting time, Shyla raced over to the double stained-glass doors. They were locked. Scorching hells. After a moment of panic, she remembered that this room was guarded like all the others. Reaching out, she sensed the two monks on the other side.
Open doors.
Nothing.
Open doors.
“Hey, what are you doing?” a muffled voice on the other side said.
A key rasped in the keyhole. “Unlocking the door.”
“Why?”
She didn’t have time for this. Using more of her waning energy, she pushed it at the two monks.
Open doors.
A metallic snap broke the quiet. The doors slid apart. Both monks peeked inside.
Not here.
She darted into the hallway.
Lock doors.
They did as instructed. Shyla hurried away. She was on level nine. And probably so were the other units. If she only encountered a few guards she could slip by them and get higher. If not…she’d be caught. Best to think positive.
Voices alerted her before she turned the corner. She skidded to a stop and backtracked to the intersection she’d just passed. Ducking down the left tunnel, she pressed against the wall just as the group walked by. Hanif led Captain Yates and four guards. They were so focused on getting to the map room that none glanced her way. She remembered to breathe. After waiting for what seemed like a couple thousand angles, she ventured out and tried to find a route free of guards.
She managed to reach level seven, but Yates must have brought more than a platoon because there were plenty of guards stationed at the various ramps to the upper levels. Too many for her to handle. Besides, it was still too hot to be higher than level six. Shyla considered borrowing a robe and trying to sneak by them, but as she watched from a hidden spot, the guards yanked the hoods down on all the monks who had them up.
Her only option was to stay hidden until the surface cooled enough for her to use one of the escape tunnels. Except she soon learned that guards blocked those as well. She had to grudgingly admit Captain Yates wasn’t an idiot. Panic churned and bubbled up her throat. She swallowed it down.
Hoping the guards had already searched level seven, Shyla sought a place to hide. The kitchen and dining area were nearby, but second meal would be in full swing. Perhaps if she found a robe, she could blend in with the monks there. Too bad there weren’t robes just lying around.
She spent the next ten or twenty angles dodging guards. Each close encounter sapped her strength a little more. At this rate, they would find her curled up in a corner sound asleep.
At a loss for what to do, she kept moving until she realized groups of monks had joined in the search for her. They weren’t obvious about it, but she sensed their intent to find her. Too tired to figure out why, and hoping it was for a good reason, she trailed one of them until she thought it was safe to reveal her presence.
The five of them quickly surrounded her—not to attack, but to hide her. Without a word, they headed to the kitchen where they left her. Huh? After glancing briefly in her direction, the staff returned to their duties. The savory scent of roast gamelu enticed her to the stew pot despite her unsettled stomach. She helped herself. Why not? This might be her last meal.
Soon a group of three monks entered the kitchen. This time, she recognized Kaveri.
“We don’t have much time,” Kaveri said.
An understatement. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve a plan to help you.” Kaveri took off her robe. Underneath she wore a plain tunic and pants much like the ones the citizens wore. Actually, very similar to what Shyla wore.
“Here.” Kaveri handed her the robe. “Put that on.”
“But—”
“Trust me.”
And since the woman was her mother, Shyla did.
Kaveri handed a pair of scissors to another monk. “Be quick.”
Shyla watched in fascinated horror as the monk cut Kaveri’s hair short. Long strands of beautiful yellow hair floated to the floor. “You…”
“Don’t worry, it’ll grow back,” Kaveri said, unconcerned.
Unlike Shyla who had been upset when the deacon had chopped off her long locks. Soon Kaveri’s hairstyle matched Shyla’s. And a strange sensation swept through her as the resemblance between the two of them was undeniable. Shyla stared into her future.
“You…” Again words failed her as Shyla tried to speak.
“We’ll talk about it later,” Kaveri said, cupping Shyla’s cheek for a moment. “Now, let me tell you the plan.”