Page 14 of The Eyes of Tamburah
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Rendor took a trol lantern and led her out into the hallway. Another guard stood waiting—she was so still and rigid, Shyla thought she might be a statue. But Shyla’s pack rested in her arms and the guard handed it over.
“Thanks,” Shyla said, grateful to have it back.
Then the captain escorted her to a small room where two very muscular men stood next to ropes made from velbloud tethers. The four ropes disappeared up through holes in the ceiling and down through ones in the floor. Panic simmered in her chest. Was this one of the Water Prince’s special rooms? Had he tricked her?
“Level twenty,” Rendor said to the men as he slid the door closed.
They each grabbed a rope and pulled. The room jerked upward. Shyla gasped as the room shifted up each time the men yanked down more rope. A rolling rumble vibrated the walls with each movement.
“It’s called a lift, Sun-kissed,” Rendor said. “One of the wonders of Zirdai that you shouldn’t be privy to, but the Water Prince has shown you great favor. So when you disappoint him, I’ll ensure the sun finishes the job.”
After all the insinuations from the Water Prince, it was nice to have a direct threat. “I think you meanifI disappoint him like you did.”
He stiffened and his oversized hands curled into fists. When his glower focused on her, it was almost a physical force. She locked her knees to keep them from folding under her. But she stared back at him, answering his challenge. If she showed her fear, she’d always appear weak in his eyes. Instead she asked him where they had searched for The Eyes.
After another attempt to intimidate her with his searing glare, he said, “We recently completed a level by level investigation. They are not in Zirdai.”
To imply that they had done a poor job would be suicide at this point. But The Eyes were small and easily concealed. Plus a complete map of Zirdai didn’t exist. Many tunnels, caverns, and even levels remained hidden from various officials, including the city’s map makers. In fact, she suspected no one in Zirdai knew the true boundaries of the underground city. Her explorations had only covered a fraction of the levels. And it was obvious that she lacked knowledge about wonders like water closets and lifts. What else didn’t she know?
Except for the grunts of the men, the rest of the trip passed in silence. Shyla removed her wrap and another hair tie from her pack before slinging it over her neck. The strap crossed her body and the rectangular velbloud leather satchel rested on her left hip. To avoid drawing attention, she pulled her hair into a knot and arranged the colorful striped material to cover her head and shoulders. Anyone who came near enough to see her face would recognize her as sun-kissed, but most people didn’t bother to look that close. And if she kept her left hand tucked up underneath her satchel, she’d be able to keep the sigil hidden as well.
Rendor watched her without comment. At level twenty, he slid the door open. “This is as high as this lift goes. I’ll be seeing you around, Sun-kissed.”
“Not if I see you first.” Yes, it was childish, but she couldn’t stop the words. She stepped out before he could counter and strolled down the dark tunnel as if she knew exactly where she was going. She didn’t.
Once out of sight, she stopped to allow her eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness, which meant a light source was nearby. Shyla tracked the faint orange glow to a corridor. Following the line of druk lanterns, she traversed level twenty until she reached an area she recognized—the crafters’ tiers.
It spanned at least ten levels and housed all the various specialty workers in one location. Instead of each level being separated by steps and piled one on top of the other like a tower, the tiers were giant ramps that just circled down to the bottom, each one smaller than the previous. Looking down from the top tier, it resembled a bunch of circles nestled inside each other.
A few people walked past the workshops, while others hurried as if on a mission. Groups chatted. Everyone wore the colorful tunics and flared pants woven from gamelu wool. The material was warm enough for the constant temperature, although some people also wore wraps and shawls. Shyla tended to wear colors that matched the tunnel and caverns’ walls—dark browns and tans to avoid being noticed.
Just like the city’s population of cats. She watched a black cat dash under a table full of jugs. With their dark-colored fur, they disappeared in the shadows and kept the sand rat population to a manageable level. Some even allowed themselves to become pets.
Having no desire to be spotted by the shoppers and workers, Shyla skirted the tier at a fast pace. She climbed to level three without encountering anyone.
Weak sunlight illuminated her room, which appeared to be undisturbed. The ancient map remained spread over her table. She needed to finish the job, but there wasn’t enough light yet. After changing into a long-sleeved tunic, she left.
The treasure hunters tended to live between levels ten and twenty—deep enough to be safe from the sun, but still able to have convenient access to the surface. At this time of the jump, she guessed most remained in the dining cavern that spanned levels eighteen and nineteen—one kitchen served ten levels.
Unlike most people, the hunters noticed Shyla as soon as she entered. First meal was served between angle three-fifty and angle twenty, but they tended to hang around, remaining at the tables sipping tea. She counted about six men and four women, and, while they didn’t stop their conversations as she approached, their postures transformed from relaxed to alert.
Normally, she didn’t seek them out. When one had a job for her, he or she visited her room. About half of them she knew by name.
“Excuse me,” she said to the group. “Do you know where I can find Fadey?” He was their unofficial leader.
“Why do you want to see him?” Aphra asked. Her long brown hair had been pulled up into a complex knot.
“I need to speak with him.”
“We heard youlocateda sweet,” Dekel said. “Don’t bother going to Fadey to sell it, he won’t touch it. No one will. You’re wasting your time.”
“Is that so?” She scanned their faces, wondering if he was alluding to The Eyes. A few avoided her gaze. If they thought she had them, then many of the hunters were now plotting a way to steal them from her. Just what she needed—more danger. “Shouldn’t Fadey be the one to decide if he wants the sweet?”
“That’s not a sweet, that’s a curse,” Aphra said.
That just confirmed they were referring to The Eyes. Seven hells.
