Page 67 of The King of Koraha
“That’s not the problem.” She explained about Tahir’s involvement.
Rendor cursed under his breath. “Too many for us to fight and we’ll lose our guide to Apanji.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Unless you can alter everyone’s memories.”
“There are too many of them.” She considered. “The bandits probably have a hidden shelter near where they ambushed us.”
“And?”
“And I think I should encourage them to use it.” She reached out with her magic again. This time she encountered bumps. They had caught on to the ruse and were following the caravan.
“Do you need my help?” Rendor asked.
“Yes. If anyone asks where I am, tell them I’m making a pit stop.”
Rendor laughed, but he soon sobered. “Please be careful and don’t take too long.”
“I’ll catch up before you reach the shelter,” she promised.
Shyla stopped jogging. The rest of the caravan kept going. Only Rendor noticed since everyone else was facing forward. She turned to scan the desert. The road was in the valley between two large dunes and the bandits were traveling on the other side of both dunes to keep hidden.
The bandits hurried so they could ambush the caravan before it reached the shelter. Shyla didn’t waste any time. Concentrating on a large slice of sand, she commanded it to rise, creating a giant wall. Then she pushed it toward the bandits.
Blow.
And again.
Up.
Blow.
Up.
Blow.
And repeat.
All those angles on duty guarding caravans and practicing moving the sand had paid off. Shyla’s intense and localized sandstorm was a thing of beauty. Cries of surprise mixed with shouted orders. Storms like this were rare this close to the danger zone. She pelted the thieves, pushed them back, and harassed them, grinning all the while. Fun. Tracking their whereabouts, she kept the pressure on until they reached their shelter.
Once they were inside, she sent a whirlwind of sand to spin around that area, pushing enough magic in it to keep it going for a while. Then she turned to catch up with the caravan.
Her energy started to lag once the initial thrill wore off. The air thickened in the heat. It was an effort to fill her lungs. Sunlight turned painful, its rays needling through her sun cloak. Remembering the gorgeous arcs of light in Nintri’s heart caravan, she marveled that something so deadly could also be so beautiful.
She slowed to a trudge. The distant wagons seemed to float on the heat undulating from the sands. It took her longer than she’d expected to reach the caravan.
Rendor waited for her by the entrance to the travel shelter. He looked over her shoulder. “Do we need to worry about the bandits?”
“No. Do we need to worry about Tahir and his people?”
“No one noticed you were gone until we arrived here. I covered for you.” He studied her. “Do I need to help you inside?”
“No.” She summoned the last of her energy and climbed down the ladder into the cool semi-darkness. Then she drank all her water and collapsed onto a cushion.
Shyla had a “conversation” with Tahir once she recovered her strength. Seemed he and a number of other caravan owners worked with that particular group of bandits. The road was a bit of a detour, so the caravans only traveled that route when they had passengers. The owners then received twenty-five percent of the toll coins the bandits collected.
Angry fire pulsed in her chest, and Shyla used The Eyes to convince Tahir of the error of his ways. The desire to track down the other owners sizzled in her blood. They were taking advantage of good people!
