“All right.” At least she could stop if he showed any signs of distress. “Sit down.”
He settled next to the bucket.
“Should I go?” Gurice asked.
“No, stay.” Shyla knelt on the other side of the bucket, facing Mojag. “Did Ximen teach you how to gather your will?”
“Yes, but it didn’t work,” Mojag said. “Or I didn’t do it right. It’s hard to gather something that’s not…something.”
Shyla lowered her shield. Despite Mojag’s brave words, he was scared. Gurice, too, but she kept her posture relaxed so she wouldn’t upset him. Despite their bickering, they loved each other deeply.
“How about pulling it? Can you pull it from inside…” She tapped her chest. “…and aim it at the sand in the bucket?”
“You mean to stare at it with intention?”
“That’s one way to describe it.”
“Okay.” Mojag’s eyebrows crashed together as he squinted at the sand.
The ribbon of magic glowed inside him. Once again it resembled a druk lantern only opened a crack. The edges around that gap were sharp and ragged. Shyla reached toward the glow as if seeking his thoughts. She grasped the ends of the lantern and pulled them apart.
Memories gushed from the opening as it widened. A vagrant woman lies broken and mutilated, blood pooling under her body. Her head lolls to the side and she meets Mojag’s gaze right before the light in her eyes dies. A man—no, a guard—straddles her, raising his knife for another unneeded strike. An anguished cry slices the air as another man tackles the guard to the ground. They fight until two more guards arrive and drag the man to his feet. Then they beat him to death right in front of his son who is hiding in a dark corner.
“Mom! Dad!” Mojag cried as the scene repeated. Pain and grief surged through his body, rubbing him raw.
“What’s going on?” Gurice demanded. She grabbed her brother, hugging him close.
Shyla reversed her efforts, closing the lantern.
Mojag’s hand shot out and clutched her wrist. “No. Don’t. Keep going. Let it out. Let it all out.”
She exchanged a look with Gurice, seeking his sister’s permission.
“Please,” Mojag said.
Gurice nodded and Shyla pulled the lantern wide open. Mojag jerked as more memories poured from the rift. Horrible images of all the terrible things he’d witnessed since his parents’ murder. Then came the guilt over what he’d done in his short life, including when he sold Shyla to the deacons.
The poor boy thrashed and wailed and cried. Tears streamed down his face and he clamped onto his sister as if she alone could keep him from being washed away. Sobs racked his body. Then the images faded. The painful memories dulled to a throb. Mojag sucked in a deep breath, relaxed, and fell asleep.
Gurice held him tight. “Did it work?”
“I don’t know.” Shyla wished she could forget Mojag’s terrible memories. She understood why he’d want to get rid of them. Despite the purge, they still remained with him. At least they weren’t nearly as sharp. “We’ll find out when he wakes up.”
“Son of a sand demon, you did it, didn’t you?” Jayden demanded from the doorway. “He’s just a boy.”
“No, he isn’t,” Shyla said. “He hasn’t been since his parents died.”
Jayden glared at her. Then he swooped in and picked Mojag up in his arms, cradling him to his chest. “If you harmed him, we’re leaving.” He turned his anger on Gurice. “And you’re not invited.”
Fourteen
Jayden carried Mojag from Shyla’s room. Gurice stared at the doorway. “After our parents died in one of the Water Prince’s raids, Jayden helped us so much. Mojag was unruly, sullen, prone to angry outbursts, and I didn’t know what to do with him. Mojag considers Jayden his brother.” She huffed. “A better sibling than me, that’s for sure.”
“No.” Shyla put her hand on her shoulder. “You’re doing a good job. He had a traumatic experience at such a young age. Witnessing your parents’ murder is not something you recover from without some permanent scars.”
“Wait.” Gurice turned to her. “He saw them being killed?”
Oops. “You didn’t know?”
She slumped. “We found him hiding in a trunk. I’d assumed our dad told him to stay there and not to come out no matter what. He wouldn’t come out for a long time. And, when he did, he didn’t talk for a circuit afterwards. I never asked if he saw anything.”
“He’s been holding that inside for a long time and needed to release it. You did a good thing, Gurice.”
“I hope so.” She tilted her head at the wall. “It’s dry. Does that prove something?”
Shyla added heat to her gaze. Her name shone on the wall. “It does!” She grinned at her friend.
“Uh-oh. Why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like what’s next?”
“How would you like to be the first person to take the oath for the new archive of the Invisible Sword?”
“Like a new beginning?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“Is it going to hurt?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Funny, but really…is it?”
Shyla laughed. “Roll up your sleeve.”
Gurice grumbled but pulled the fabric of her tunic up over her shoulder. Her Invisible Sword symbol shone on her chestnut-colored skin. Only another sworn Invisible Sword member with magic could see it.
The mark wasn’t that complex. There were two crossed swords. They overlapped about a quarter of the way down from the tips. A line curved through both hilts and flared out to the sides. It bowed away from the tips, while a second line arced in the opposite direction between the two blades. The two curved lines had an oval shape, and, from a distance, resembled an eye.
Shyla considered. If she drew a circle inside that oval to represent an iris, and then a solid circle for the pupil, then there’d be no doubt it was an eye. Fitting. Except adding those extra lines with chalk seemed silly. She needed something else that was thin that she could push her magic through. Her stylus!
Rummaging through her pack, she found the instrument. The metal tip should be small enough and the slightly flattened end wouldn’t scratch skin.
“Are you going to write your name on me?” Gurice asked.
“No.” She explained her plan. “What do you think?”
“I think you should draw it out and show everyone so they’ll know what it looks like.”
“Good idea. And I think you should take the oath along with everyone else. But, if you don’t mind, I’d like to try to add the extra embellishments now, because if it doesn’t work, I’ll have to figure something else out.”
“Does that mean I’ll have to do it twice?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a good thing I like you. All right, what do I do?”
Shyla brought the tip close to Gurice’s shoulder and pushed her magic into the stylus. “Repeat after me. As a member of the Invisible Sword, I swear that I will embrace the beliefs and tenets of the organization and fully support its efforts to help those in need.”