Page 129 of The City of Zirdai
“Good. I want them telling everyone about the Heliacal Priestess. How she killed so many people to gain power. If the citizens are looking for verification, just have them mention the destruction of the guards’ quarters.”
Gurice looked at her. “For what purpose?”
“It’s time the citizens become more proactive. There’s still plenty of deacons in the city.”
“Nice.”
“I also need you to send runners to the guard units throughout the city.”
“What should they tell them?”
“To meet me in the common lounge on level ninety at angle ninety.”
“Angle ninety so no one can escape the city?” Gurice half teased.
“No. It’s when the Sun Goddess is at her strongest.”
“I didn’t think you were the religious type.”
“I survived an explosion, wasn’t crushed into a Shyla puddle, and escaped without major injury. I’ve gotten the hint.”
Gurice laughed. “Just don’t rely on it. You’re not indestructible.”
“I’m not?” Shyla pressed a hand to her chest in mock surprise.
Another bark of laughter.
Zhek woke Shyla at angle sixty. He stood next to her sleep cushion with his arms crossed and watched as she struggled to move. Every single muscle in her body—even her fingers!—was so stiff they were close to being inflexible. Pain pulsed with every movement. She hurt. Bad. And she’d only managed to sit up. Perhaps she should have added an extra fifteen angles to their timeline.
Zhek raised his bushy white eyebrows.
“Yes, you’re right. And if I didn’t have so many people in danger, I would drink your tea, crawl under the fur, and embrace your healing sleep.”
He huffed, somewhat mollified, and left.
At least he spared her his lecture. The colossal effort to stand left her weak and on the edge of tears. So much for being the powerful sun-kissed.
Zhek returned holding a large glass of orange-tinted water. “Drink this.” He handed it to her.
Not sure she trusted him, she said, “It’s orange.”
“That’s what happens when you mix a restorative with pain medicine.”
“Thanks.” She gulped it. Her relief was as cool as the liquid sliding down her throat.
He grunted. “They’re my people, too. I’m coming with you.”
She choked. “But—”
“The survivors will need to be tended to. And you know that dolt Timin isn’t as good as me.”
If Timin had survived, but she quickly stopped those thoughts because she knew they’d lead to her wondering about a certain other person and whether he’d survived or not.
By the time she joined Mojag and Gurice, her pain had eased. She glanced at Zhek.
“It’ll wear off in about eighty angles.”
Good to know.
