The priestess turned and stared at Shyla. The fury in her gaze was mild compared to the evil thoughts in her head.
“You will not touch me,” the priestess said to Shyla. “You are sun-cursed. I am a child of the Sun Goddess and she will protect me.” She leaped across the gap.
Or rather, she tried. The Sun Goddess did not grant her wings. The priestess fell without a sound. Although, when she hit the bottom, there was a loud thud. Shyla and Jaft rushed to the edge. Perhaps the priestess survived the fall.
The unnatural angle of the woman’s neck meant there hadn’t been a miracle.
Shyla returned to the throne room and sent her people to search the entire level and deal with any remaining deacons or Arch Deacons. “Take a couple of wielders with you in case you find seers.”
“Seers?” Jaft asked.
“That’s what the priestess called her magic wielders.”
“Figures. Come along, Seer Rae.”
“Stop that right now or I’ll make you believe sand rats are crawling up your pant leg.”
Jaft gulped. “Understood.”
Shyla questioned Timin about the survivors. “What did the priestess do to them?”
“She had them all taken to the black cells,” he said.
“Do you know if…” She was afraid to ask about Rendor. Because right now she had hope he lived. If she found out otherwise… No. She was not going to imagine a world without Rendor. “How many people were locked up?”
“I don’t know who survived. After the explosions, I stumbled from my room and found a couple injured guards and got to work. When the deacons showed up, they dragged me away from my patients and presumably rounded everyone up.”
“Are the black cells intact?”
“I’ve heard there was some damage and deaths. The priestess was very upset to discover Yates had been incarcerated. Now we know why.” He shook his head. “Hard to believe that woman had a child. Yates has been working for the prince a long time. She must have had all this planned out before then.”
It made sense for the priestess to have spies in the prince’s organization. And he probably had people in hers. No organization was safe from traitors. With that thought, Shyla eyed Timin. “Why didn’t the priestess lock you up?” she asked him.
“She wanted me close to harvest your eyes when they found your body. She was livid that you were blown up.”
He told the truth.
Timin peered at her with curiosity. “How did you survive?”
“I’m sun-kissed. The goddess looks out for me.”
“Uh-huh.” Timin failed to appear convinced of the divine intervention.
Before she could explain what happened, Jaft and the others returned.
“We got them all,” Jaft reported. “This level is secure.”
“Good job.” Shyla called for Mojag.
The boy raced over to her. “Yes?”
“Go to Orla’s and get her grandson, Ilan, and his rats.”
“His rats?” Confusion creased his face.
“Yes. We need them for a very important game of hide and seek.”
“Oh! Got it.” He dashed away.
“Now let’s go free our people.” Shyla rounded up a few guards to carry Yates to the black cells. “Timin, Gurice, Jaft, and Zhek, you’re with us.”
Timin brought his bag.
Zhek tutted at him. “I’m in charge of the injured. You may assist me.”
The physician didn’t react. Probably too tired to argue.
Each member of the group grabbed a trol lantern as they crossed through the various grottos. Cracked tiles now decorated the big spaces. The water fountains either dribbled water, sprayed it, or were completely broken. A number of the stone benches had fragmented into pieces.
They soon descended to level ninety-eight. Half-collapsed walls and a thick layer of grit covered the stone tables that the guards used while on duty. Many of the druks had shattered, but a number glowed with a purple light. However, the trol light they’d brought along was bright enough to show the dried bloodstains, green mold, and black grime that had built up over the circuits.
Shyla’s eyes stung with the sharp odor of urine mixed with feces—all part of the punishment.
“It reeks in here,” Gurice said, covering her nose.
The deacons who had been guarding the prisoners lay unconscious on the ground. Two of her guards watched over them.
One of them pointed to a pile of rubble on the right. “That wing contained the prince’s special rooms and was crushed during the attack. It’s underneath our quarters, which collapsed. None of the guards survived.” He clenched his fists as anger and sorrow shone in his eyes.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” She’d hoped for better news. Then she remembered that the freed prisoners had been recovering in the guards’ quarters. She met Gurice’s gaze.
Gurice understood her silent question and pressed her lips together, shaking her head sadly. Grief twisted around her stomach and squeezed.
“Can you please unlock the doors to the other wing?” she asked the guard.
The man and his partner moved to open the main metal doors. Two guards from her group joined them to help.
“Dim your lanterns,” she ordered everyone. “Those inside have been in complete blackness for at least a sun jump. Some much longer.”
The guards formed two units. Each took a tunnel and began unlocking the individual cells. Once the doors were open, the others streamed in, checking for colleagues and loved ones.
Shyla hung back, afraid of what she might find and what she might not find. Her heart pumped extra hard when Titus limped from a cell. Then she spotted Nard, Daksh, and a few more Invisible Swords. All sported cuts and bruises. All disheveled and weak. All stank.
Wazir survived, but he shook his head sadly when she asked about his three family members. “Wrong place. Wrong time.”
By this point, each beat of her heart was a painful spasm. Who else had they lost?
“Shyla, I need you,” Zhek yelled from a cell way down at the end of the hallway.
She ran on numb feet, the pressure inside her about to burst. Most of the putrid cells were empty. Stopping when she spotted white hair, she paused in the doorway as her heart exploded.
Rendor lay on the ground. His shirt was soaked with blood. His eyes were squeezed shut in pain. And he pressed his hands over his stomach. Blood leaked from between his fingers.
“Hurry, child, and tell this big stubborn fool that you are alive and well,” Zhek ordered.
“He doesn’t believe you?” she said, joining Zhek.
Rendor opened his eyes and stared at her. But his gaze was unfocused and his brows were smashed together in confusion. “You’re…”
“I’m fine.” She caressed his cheek. His skin was hot and dry. Too hot.
“No.” He shook his head. “You died. I saw… I saw…you fall… The rubble… Gone… I don’t…want to live…without you.”
“I’m alive, Rendor. I’m here. We’re here. Let Zhek take care of you.”
He stared at her. “I saw… I saw…”
“The wound is infected. No surprise given the conditions in here. Tell him to let me examine it,” Zhek said.