Page 114 of The Eyes of Tamburah
“Yes.” She wore nothing but a thick coating of goo, but she didn’t care. Instead of red, angry blisters and blackened, scarred flesh, her brown skin was healthy and smooth. Another miracle or just Zhek’s healing expertise? Did Zhek have magic? And was that considered a gift? Thinking of miracles and gifts, she wondered if her conversation with the Sun Goddess had been real or just a delusion brought on by extreme heat exposure.
Zhek moved with quick efficiency and soon Shyla wore a comfortable soft tunic and pants—an acolyte’s uniform. Hanif took her to the narrow room she’d awoken in after being shot with the arrow. Zhek followed a few moments later with a small portion of velbloud eggs to eat and plenty of water. He shot Rendor a pointed look—the big man took up quite a bit of space, but Rendor refused to leave her side.
When Zhek handed her a cup of his special tea, she said, “I’m clean, dressed, and fed. Time for me to pester you with questions.” She set the cup down.
“As long as you answer ours as well,” Hanif said.
“Deal. How did I get here?”
“The monks on patrol found you,” Hanif said. “The velblouds seemed overly distressed so they investigated. You were close to death and they carried you back here as fast as possible.” Hanif nodded to Zhek. “Good thing he was here. Or you would have died.”
“His magic goo saved me?”
“Goo!” His fluffy eyebrows spiked up in outrage. “It’s a healing gel. And it cured your burnt hide.”
“Thank you.”
Not willing to be mollified, he grumbled, “Don’t know why I bother, you’re determined to get yourself killed.”
“About that,” Hanif said. “What in seven hells were you doing outside?”
Hanif had cursed. He never cursed. Never showed the monks or acolytes any strong emotions. She hunched down, trying to be small like she’d done when she was a child and in trouble. Not that it helped.
Then she realized they all waited for her answer. “It was either the sun or the Arch Deacons. I chose the sun.”
Rendor clenched his hands and stiffened. Zhek and Hanif exchanged a glance.
“How did you survive the sun?” Hanif asked.
She explained about her desperate measures, but neglected to mention her conversation with the Sun Goddess because she still wasn’t convinced it had happened. Extreme heat caused hallucinations. And that was a doozy of one.
Zhek appeared impressed and Rendor scowled, but, for him, that could mean anything.
“Flying with the velbloud…that’s…quite the tale.” Hanif peered at her with his I-think-you’re-lying-but-I-can’t-prove-it look.
She didn’t blame him. The monks didn’t go out on patrol until after the danger zone—around angle one-ten, which meant she’d been outside for roughly thirty-five angles. Far too long to survive.
Yet.
Remembering Hanif’s comment about Zhek, she asked him, “Why are you here?”
Sorrow pulled at the healer’s face. “I brought the survivors here.”
Shyla perked up at this bit of good news. “Invisible Sword survivors?”
Both men frowned. Hanif tilted his head at Rendor.
“Oh, please,” Rendor said. “Give us some credit. We’ve known about the organization for some time. We figured they’d stolen The Eyes and that Shyla would eventually find them for us.” He rubbed his bad shoulder. “If all had gone according to plan, the prince’s guards, not the priestess’s deacons, would have raided the Invisible Sword’s headquarters.”
She’d known he lied and kept things from her, but to hear him admit it tore through her, ripping the last bit of her heart from her chest.
“How many survived?” she asked, focusing on the positive. She could wallow in self-pity later.
“Not enough. Many were captured. Some have disappeared. Others killed. Only ten escaped.”
“Jayden?”
“Captured. Payatt and Bazia are among the dead.”
