Page 6 of The King of Koraha
Lota paused another moment, but then she ordered the wagons to go. “Don’t take too long,” she said to them.
The drivers and muscles gave Shyla looks that varied from terrified to impressed to confused. Some nursed bruises and cuts, but everyone had lived through the attack.
Once the caravan was out of earshot, she asked the mercenary, “Why do you want me?”
He refused to answer. Okay then. Shyla stared at the man. He glared back, and she reached deeper into his thoughts with the power of The Eyes. This was supposed to be a simple job. He’d argued that he didn’t need so many men, but, looking around, he hadn’t brought enough. And no one warned him a captain would be with them. What in the seven hells had happened? Half his guys were stuck in the sand. Who was this sun-kissed anyway?
“Who hired you?” Shyla asked, urging his thoughts in that direction.
“I don’t know.” The truth. Vilma had assigned him the job. She always kept the client’s name secret for just this reason.
“Why does your client want me?” she asked.
He’d no idea, but he was starting to suspect it might have to do with the way the sand melted under half his men and why the other half were knocked out.
“Where were you going to take me?”
He glanced at the hulking brute next to her.
Was the captain going to force the answers from him? They could guess at this one, since Nintri was the closest city.
Shyla searched through his memories and while she learned he was a successful and expensive mercenary, he had limited knowledge about Shyla and the reason for this particular job. Vilma was smart to keep the information from him. Shyla wondered if Vilma knew she wielded the power of The Eyes or if the client failed to divulge that information.
The searing heat from the sun increased its pressure on her head and shoulders. Time to go.
“You fought and lost,” Shyla told the leader, using her magic. “The sun-kissed got away and you ran out of time.” She gestured to the men. “Better hurry and get them to the shelter on the way to Nintri.” Then she leaned closer. “Don’t try again. You won’t succeed.”
She erased his memory of his men stuck in the sand, then did the same to the others who remained awake as she loosened the sand around them. She used thelook awaycommand. Suddenly everyone seemed fascinated by a section of desert in the opposite direction to where she stood. By the time the mercenaries fully freed themselves, she and Rendor would be out of sight. Shyla motioned for Rendor to join her. He was inspecting one of the holes in the sand where one of the dozen mercenaries had been hiding. Rendor sheathed his sword and they followed the caravan’s tracks in the sand.
As he jogged next to her, he asked, “Will they get to a shelter in time?”
“They should. It’s closer than ours,” she puffed. Not from the exertion but because the air burned her throat. Her sweat dried instantly—a bad sign. Rendor should be more worried aboutthemreaching shelter.
Running through the burning hot sand, Shyla wondered when her boots would melt. The dillo leather was tough, but not tough enough to withstand the heat at apex. Then it would be her feet on the searing sand. And Zhek’s healing goo was fifty-two sun jumps away.
“How did…” Rendor gasped. “You…survive…out here?”
There were no velbloud flocks nearby. No surprise as they were kept near the cities. “Just…keep…moving,” she urged.
Waves of heat emanated off the sands, blurring the landscape, creating shimmering illusions. The air thickened and pressed. Her energy faded with each step and every centimeter of her body burned both inside and out.
So hot. So very hot. She could probably swallow a lump of dough and it would bake into bread by the time it reached her stomach.
Shyla fought the desire to rip off her sun cloak. The fabric was the only thing keeping her skin from blistering. If they only had some shade— Scorching sand rats, she was an idiot.
Using her magic, she scooped up a two-meter-square layer of sand and floated it above their heads, blocking the sun’s lethal rays. Rendor only had enough energy to grunt in appreciation as the air cooled by what felt like ten degrees. Blocking the sunlight might just keep them alive a little longer—if she didn’t collapse from exhaustion first. She hadn’t used this much magic in a long time.
“There.” He pointed to the beacon.
Lota’s caravan was already parked nearby. The gamelus wilted in the full sun. Most people panicked if they were outside after angle seventy, but they still had another ten angles before it turned deadly. The caravanners must have believed they didn’t have enough time to set up the shade or give the animals water. But after the extra quick trot to the shelter, the gamelus might not survive apex.
“Go…inside,” she told Rendor. “I’ll—”
“No.” He grabbed the fabric from one of the wagons. “Just…cover them.”
Oh. They fanned it out and laid it over the gamelus like a blanket. She added a layer of sand to weigh it down and give them some more protection. Her arms and legs shook with the strain. The desert spun around her as Rendor set out the water buckets for the herd.
“Come on.” Rendor guided her toward the shelter. “Go…now.”
