Page 88 of The Eyes of Tamburah
Close enough. “Yes.”
Rendor’s shoulders and arms tightened with anger and probably frustration. Shyla was getting pretty good at reading his body language.
“They took advantage of you,” he said.
“No. It’s where I belong, Rendor. I’m sun-kissed. None of those cities would ever welcome me. It’s best I just disappear.”
“How do you know?” he demanded. “Not all the cities in Koraha enforce that barbaric ritual sacrifice. You can live in one of them.”
“They might not enforce it, but many parents still sacrifice their sun-kissed babies. I’ve read about it in the First Room of Knowledge.”
“Just because you have access doesn’t mean you know everything,” he said.
True. She’d learned so much about Zirdai since she’d left the monastery.
“In fact…” He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. “Do you know what it’s like to be kissed?” Without waiting for an answer, Rendor bent his head and pressed his lips to hers.
Warmth spread from her core. His kiss matched the rest of him, powerful, demanding and so very insistent. Having no desire to stop him, she deepened it, parting her lips and letting him in. Spikes of heat flashed through her and ignited desire. She craved his touch.
He broke away, leaving her gasping and bereft.
Resting his forehead on hers, he said, “And that’s just the beginning. Remember that before you take your vows. You know where I’ll be.” Then he released her and pulled a thick black cord from around his neck. A small key hung on it. “You’ll need this to get into my stash.” He looped it around her neck. Without another word, he left the room.
Shyla stared after him, fingering the key hanging from her throat. And for a few racing heartbeats, she considered being selfish, running away with Rendor and discovering what comes after a kiss like that. Then the parade of people depending on her marched through her mind, ending with an entire commune. She tucked the key under her tunic, smoothed her cloak and ascended to the surface building.
The four “monks” waited with obvious impatience. Sweat beaded their brows and they aimed sour looks at her. The sun was higher in the sky than they’d planned, but she hadn’t expected to be blindsided by Rendor. Her lips still tingled and his scent clung to her sun cloak.
Hanif had joined them to see the group off. He thanked the two men—Elek and Jaft—and two women—Lian and Rae—who had volunteered to escort and protect Shyla. They were acolytes near the end of their training, but not yet sworn monks. A loophole. Not everyone who joined the monastery had been rescued as abandoned babies. Many came seeking solace or asylum later in life or some arrived when they reached their legal adulthood.
These four were a few circuits older than she was. Since the monks couldn’t get involved, the acolytes wore nondescript khaki-colored tunics, pants, and turbans. Semi-sheer material protected their faces from the sun and from recognition. Only their eyes were visible.
Shyla planned to keep a fast pace as they descended to the prince’s level to reduce the number of people who would attack them. She also decided that when they entered the city, she would uncover her very short hair. No sense hiding. Besides, this was the last time the citizens of Zirdai would see her. Once this was over, she’d become invisible. For real this time.
* * *
They reached the main entrance of Zirdai at angle fifty. Using it would make a statement—they were on a mission. When they entered the sweepers stared at them, but shrugged and kept working. The air cooled quickly as they descended the first ten levels. Shyla pulled her hood down, but the acolytes kept their veils in place.
She led them down the main hallways and stairways. The familiar smells and sounds of the city resonated within her. It’d been twenty-five sun jumps since this entire mess with Banqui and The Eyes started. She drank in the sights as if she’d never see them again. Silly, and maudlin. Many citizens stopped what they were doing and gawked at the quintet. No doubt they’d run and gossip to their friends and word would spread, eventually reaching the guards, the deacons, and bounty hunters. They’d passed a few guards already, but as Rendor had said, they were new and uncertain of what to do. A couple trailed after them.
The first challenge waited for them on level twenty-three. Six of the Water Prince’s guards blocked a main tunnel. Shyla’s group approached to within three meters and stopped.
The guard standing in front rested his hand on the hilt of his sword and stepped forward. “What is this about?”
“I’ve a meeting with the Water Prince,” Shyla said.
“I haven’t been informed of a meeting,” he said.
“Of course not,” she said in her most dismissive tone. “You’re not ranked high enough.”
“Then you won’t mind if I verify this meeting?”
Shyla and her companions moved closer. “Actually, I do. We’re in a bit of a time crunch.”
The four acolytes blurred into motion before the poor guard could draw his sword. The others had more time to react, but swords were useless when fighting inside a tight two-meter wide space. Shyla remained in place. Her shoulder still throbbed, and four people trained in the Ways of the Yarin against six upper-level guards was already overkill. She’d fight when she was needed. Instead, she witnessed the four knock the guards unconscious in a handful of heartbeats. They stepped over the prone forms, continuing their journey.
A dozen levels deeper, they encountered the next set of guards. Smarter than the last unit, this group of eight waited in a wide cavern that traders used to exchange goods. The traders, though, had already abandoned the place, giving the guards plenty of room to fight. Swords in hand, the prince’s thugs spread out among the empty tables.
“We have orders toarrestyou, Shyla Sun-kissed. Not kill,” the female lieutenant said in a strong commanding voice. “Your…companions are free to go. No need to fight.”
