Page 99 of The King of Koraha
Xerxes turned to her. His angry gaze promised pain as he tightened his grip, cutting off her air. After a few panicked heartbeats, he eased the pressure. Shyla sucked in a breath.
“What’s going on?” he growled.
Unable to fight or use her magic on him, Shyla only had one option left: remove the sand from underneath his feet.
But, as he sank into the ground, he grabbed her shoulders, dragging her down with him. That was okay, as he had no experience being buried in the sand while she’d learned to be quite comfortable underneath the grains. Once the sand closed over them, he panicked and released her. She piled more sand on him as she cleared it from around her.
By the time she regained her feet, he’d already knocked enough sand away to create an opening for air, but she ensured the rest of him was stuck tight. It would take a long time for him to dig himself out. Vilma glanced over, most likely seeking orders, and the second-in-command’s expression hardened into murder when she failed to see her boss next to Shyla. Uh-oh. Shyla quickly formed a sand arrow and shot it at the woman. It knocked her back. Probably more from surprise than any force, but it was the signal. The monks stopped unloading the chests and pulled their swords. The ringing sound drew every one of Xerxes’ soldiers’ attention. They turned as one.
Shyla hoped Captain Mahira and her handpicked guards—who were disguised as the monks—could handle themselves against elite soldiers. There was a moment’s hesitation, then the two groups clashed. The city guards were outnumbered, but the Invisible Swords had a few more surprises.
Sand erupted as the Invisible Swords leaped from their hiding places in the dunes and came up behind the soldiers. Sand weapons and mini sandstorms blew, distracting their opponents. Other mercs froze as the magic wielders attacked with invisible weapons.
As much as she wanted to free Rendor, she needed to find the two men whose magic she had unlocked. They had been fast learners and would make it harder for her Invisible Swords to fight the mercs. Since Xerxes’ soldiers all wore the same uniform, Shyla searched for them with The Eyes, seeking that inner glow that meant they were wielding magic. The two men were among the mercs, countering the Invisible Sword’s magical efforts.
She reached and closed the first man’s inner druk, cutting off his ability to wield magic. The man cried out and collapsed to the sand. His partner turned his focus on her. Magical commands pressed on her as hot as the sun. She dodged them and shut down his abilities as well. He crumpled with a wail of pain. A bit of her guilt eased as she fixed another one of the problems she had caused.
Then Shyla raced toward Rendor. His sword flashed as he fought with one of the monks. Once she drew closer, she identified the monk as Mahira. And the captain was holding her own against him. For now. Her weapon clanged as she countered Rendor’s attacks, but each defensive move was a hair slower than the one before.
“Rendor, stop,” Shyla yelled. But he ignored her. She hated to do this, but she had no other choice.
Freeze.
He stopped mid-strike. Mahira took in a few deep gulps of air, wiped the sweat from her brow, nodded at Shyla, and turned to help her guards, lunging at another merc. Shyla reached Rendor. He strained against the magical hold and glared daggers at her. His expression wasn’t what alarmed her. There was no recognition in his gaze. To him, she was nothing more than an opponent. Her heart ached.
“I’m so sorry for everything,” she said, hoping she hadn’t lost him forever. Then she yanked his pendant from underneath his sweat-soaked shirt. The blackfire glinted in the sunlight, reminding her not to look.
She closed her fist around the pendant and— A body slammed into her. Shyla lost her grip on the necklace as she flew through the air. On impact, all air whooshed from her lungs and pain ringed her still sore ribs.
“Big Brute, go help Zahoor,” Vilma ordered as she straddled Shyla, pinning her arms to the ground.
Rendor ran off. Helpless, Shyla watched him go. Vilma’s weight made it difficult for her to breathe and increased the agony in her ribs. So focused on Rendor, Shyla hadn’t kept track of all their enemies’ positions. Rookie mistake.
“Pay attention. You’ve bigger problems,” Vilma said, touching her sharp knife to Shyla’s throat. At least the woman shifted her weight, easing the pressure on Shyla’s chest.
She met Vilma’s gaze. Another loyal soldier that Xerxes hadn’t needed to influence. Vilma’s thoughts and emotions were easy to read. “Xerxes won’t be pleased if you kill me, Vilma.”
“After this stunt, he’ll know I was right. We should have killed you right away.”
“And what makes you think you’ll be successful? You tried to kill me before and failed. Does Xerxes know about the mercs you sent after me?”
“Oh no, I’m not playing this game.”
“Too late. I’m in your mind, Vilma. Go ahead. Try to slit my throat.”
Vilma cursed when she couldn’t move the knife in her hand.
“Why did you send them? Xerxes couldn’t have known about me at that point.” Shyla added heat to her question, compelling her to answer.
“But I knew exactly who you were. The demon who murdered my brother.”
“Brother?”
“The Water Prince.”
So the man hadn’t been spawned by a sand demon after all. He had a family. Well, at least a sister who was an elite fighter. “I already told you the Heliacal Priestess slit the Water Prince’s throat.”
“And the only reason that bitch was able to reach him was because of you. You can’t deny that.”
