Page 108 of The King of Koraha
“Someone hasn’t been keeping up with their training,” Rae said in a teasing tone.
“Yeah, well, someone has been busy,” Shyla said.
“Keeping in shape can save your life,” Balin said. “You never know when you’ll have to fight and no opponent is ever willing to wait.”
“In your experience,” Vashi said. “I once had some hot-headed guy who was spoiling for a fight, and I asked him to wait while I used the collection station.” She laughed. “He’s probably still waiting for me to return. What an idiot. Must have thought I was taking the longest—”
“We get it,” Shyla said. “How much further to the travel shelter?” she asked Omar.
“Normally we’d reach a travel shelter in thirty-five angles. But with this slower pace, it’ll take us a total of fifty, so that’s another twenty-five angles.”
She swallowed her groan. They’d only run for twenty angles. And the heat had only just started to build. She used the remaining break time to adjust her pack and dump the sand from her boots.
Omar called them to resume the run. Their pace was slower than earlier, but the sun’s rays intensified with each stride. How could light have weight? It seemed to gather on her shoulders and head like a heavy child made of fire. By the time they reached the shelter at angle sixty, Shyla decided that after this situation with Xerxes was resolved, she’d never leave the comfort of an underground city again.
The others downplayed their aches and pains. Jaft said nothing, only rubbed his ankle absently. Omar glanced at Shyla. His emotions rocked between impressed and worried.
“All right,” he said. “We’ll push at full speed after apex.”
Omar had them out and running as soon as it was safe, which meant they were on the surface by angle one-ten. After a few angles, the hot air reminded Shyla of Zhek’s healing goo—thick and viscous. And now Omar’s tendency to use the word “push” made more sense. She kept the brutal pace by keeping in mind what would happen to their world if Xerxes assassinated the King.
“We’re eight angles behind schedule,” Omar said before they began the next push. “Not as much of a concern at this point in the sun jump. We can run during the first twenty angles of darkness without worry. But remember you won’t have that luxury before apex.”
Most of the trip to the next shelter was a blur. Shyla entered a strange state where her thoughts floated, her stride found the perfect rhythm, and the only sound was the rasp of her breath. The air cooled as the sun sank, giving everyone an extra boost of energy. They reached their goal at angle one-ninety—ten angles behind schedule. Omar called it a win.
Shyla woke feeling like she had run all darkness. They set off at angle zero. It wasn’t any easier. In fact, it was beyond brutal getting to that second shelter before the danger zone.
However, she and her Invisible Swords slowly adapted to the pace and each sun jump was a bit better than the one before. By the twelfth sun jump, they no longer stumbled to the sleeping cushions and fell asleep as soon as they were horizontal. Instead, they sat together and talked. Blisters turned to calluses and their energy levels stayed consistent. Taking the safe route had been the right decision. They had conserved their energy and would be able to fight Xerxes and his elite soldiers in Qulsary.
The paths they traveled on weren’t wide enough for the caravans to use. So it was quite the surprise when they neared a shelter at the mid-point of their journey and she sensed fourteen people inside. Shyla called a stop so she could consult with everyone.
“Could it be squatters?” she asked Omar.
“We’re not the only ones traveling these paths,” Omar said. “City guards will run them to keep in shape.” He pointed to the sun jumping higher in the sky. “It’s almost angle seventy; we don’t have a choice at this point.”
“I know, but let me figure out who they are before we join them. Wait here,” Shyla said.
She crept to the entrance, trying to minimize the crunching of her footsteps. At least there were no bumps hiding underneath the sand—a good sign. She peeked down the ladder and no one stood guard at the base—another good sign. These people weren’t worried about being attacked.
Then she stretched her power to those within. The atmosphere was relaxed, with friendly banter and laughter. Their comradery and sense of loyalty to each other was clear. They were probably a team of guards. But just to be sure, she went a little deeper into their thoughts and encountered one soul who slipped away from her, dodging her power.
Xerxes.
Fifteen
Shyla’s thoughts boiled away to nothing. Unable to move, she stood in the sands near the entrance of the travel shelter grappling with the sudden and terrifying revelation. Xerxes was inside with thirteen of his people and she had to go in or be cooked alive. There was no possible way this would end well for her.
“Shyla,” Rae hissed. “What’s going on?”
So rattled by Xerxes’ unexpected presence, she’d briefly forgotten the others. They waited nearby. She wasn’t alone this time. Her terror eased its grip and she hurried over to tell them the horrible news.
“Is it just a coincidence or is it an ambush?” Jaft asked.
“Does it matter?”
“Guess not.”
“What do we do?” Lamar gripped the hilt of his sword.
