Everyone agreed they wouldn’t mention magic or that The Eyes were anything but priceless artifacts that caused the prince and priestess to go to war. They did inform him about the role of the Invisible Swords in the defeat. History was on their side. Yet the King was known to be alarmed by groups like theirs. He feared being overthrown, which was why he had amassed such a large and well-trained army.
Would he consider Shyla dangerous to his rule? He shouldn’t. She’d refused to become Zirdai’s Water Princess. But Jayden had told her the emissary didn’t seem to believe him when he explained why Shyla turned down the role. Did the emissary think she had her sights on the King’s job? Why not just ask her?
Everyone released a huge sigh of relief once the emissary concluded that all the events they had reported to the King had been truthful and necessary. He officially approved the appointment of the new Water Prince and Heliacal Priestess. There would be a ceremony and city-wide celebration the next sun jump.
A few angles before the event, Shyla dressed in a new tunic and pants. She decided to leave her wrap behind. Rendor looked…damn fine in his clothes. Too fine.
She yanked on his shirt. “We really don’t need to go. I think we should stay here and…snuggle.”
He stilled her hands. “We have all the time to snuggle. This is an important occasion. One we worked very hard to bring about.”
Rendor was right. And it was a lovely ceremony. Jayden looked handsome and regal and quite smitten with Aphra, his new archeologist. Kaveri shone almost as bright as the sun.
During the party afterwards, someone tapped on her shoulder. Shyla turned to face the King’s emissary.
“Are you Shyla Sun-Kissed?” he asked as if he hadn’t been avoiding her all this time.
Strange. No one had used that name in a long time. “Yes.”
He handed her a thin scroll sealed with wax.
“What’s this?”
“You’ve been summoned to appear before the King of Koraha.
Thank You
Thank you for choosing The Eyes of Tamburah, the award-winning first book of my Archives of the Invisible Sword fantasy series. The hot desert sands of the world of Koraha was inspired by my visits to the Australian Outback.
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Acknowledgments
In the acknowledgements of my last book, Chasing the Shadows, I wondered if any of my readers read the acknowledgements of books. The answer was a resounding yes! And many of my readers appreciated my Acknowledgement Quiz. So in that same spirit, I give you an Acknowledgment Word Search! You will find all the names of those who have helped me make this story better, and those that provided love, support, and wine, on the next page. A gigantic THANK YOU to all of you!!
ANNABEL
JOHANNA
MICHELLE
RODNEY
ELLE
JULIA
MINDY
SAM
ELOISE
KATHY
NATALIE
JEFF
KRISTIAN
RACHAEL
JENNA
MICAELA
REEMA
Read on for an excerpt from The King of Koraha
coming November 22, 2021
The King of Koraha
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Ever since Shyla was six circuits old, she’d wanted to visit all the vast underground cities of Koraha. At that time, her world had been very limited. Raised in a monastery by the Monks of Parzival for eighteen circuits, she’d only ventured out to the nearby city of Zirdai on the rare occasion. Her desire to travel never dimmed as she researched the history of each city, their various famous and infamous inhabitants, and catalogued the underground wonders of Koraha. In her dreams, she’d plan her visits, listing the sights that shouldn’t be missed.
It was a nice bit of dreaming that failed to factor in one crucial detail—visiting those cities required traveling over the hot sands of the desert for far too many sun jumps in a row.
Far, far too many.
Now, Shyla trudged up yet another sand dune, hot, sweaty, and tired of the unending vermillion sands that stretched out in all directions. They were endless, rippling out to the horizon and beyond. As Shyla followed a step behind Lota, she wondered for the millionth time, how in the seven hells did the caravan owner know where she was going?
According to Lota, there was a road underneath the layer of sand. And Shyla had to admit—grudgingly—her dillo leather boots didn’t sink in quite so deep. A good thing as walking would require more effort if she sunk up to her calves with every step.
Shyla glanced back at Lota’s caravan trailing behind them. It was considered an average size, with fifteen wagons filled with goods and one for Lota’s family. Each wagon had its own driver and was pulled by two gamelus. Then there were eight extra people that Lota referred to as her “muscles.” They performed various jobs like taking care of the gamelus during stops and unloading and loading merchandise. There were also eight guards, counting Shyla and Rendor. Actually, as a former captain, Rendor should be counted as three at least.
Opposite of her point guard position, he marched in the rear guard position, scanning the sands for potential threats, but he caught her gaze and smiled. The warmth inside her heated, and it had nothing to do with the sun jumping toward apex. She returned his smile, wishing for the millionth time they could have some privacy. But the travel shelters along the route only supplied protection from the killer heat and during the cold darkness, with nothing fancier than a communal scattering of cushions.