Page 28 of The City of Zirdai
“I need strong men. Water is heavy.”
“Are you taking the cart?”
“No. That’s too difficult to conceal and the water jugs are too awkward to carry. I’ve another idea.”
“What is it?”
He smiled. “I need to figure out if I can get the right materials first. If not, then I’ll have to think of something else.”
In other words, he would tell her only when he was ready. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will.” He left.
She hugged her arms to her chest as a sudden chill raced up her spine. The room seemed colder without him. Shyla resisted calling him back. She’d slept so much better with him beside her. However, many of the Invisible Swords didn’t like or trust him despite her repeated assurances that he was sincere. And they wouldn’t be happy about him staying in her room even if all they did was sleep.
The Invisible Swords believed in the power of The Eyes, yet she was learning that they needed to experience certain things for themselves like Rendor. Which shouldn’t have been a surprise as she’d been the same way. Hanif had warned her that the citizens of Zirdai wouldn’t welcome a sun-kissed, but she left the monastery anyway, determined to change everyone’s mind. It took her two circuits to admit he was right.
Eventually, she slept. In her dreams, a sand storm chased her. She tried to run away from it, but her feet sank into the soft surface, slowing her down. Soon the storm caught up to her and she was lost in a dense fog of sand that obscured everything and cut her off from everyone—the worst part, until the airborne grains filled her nose and blocked her throat. Unable to breathe, she woke with a strangled cry, clawing at her neck, convinced she was suffocating.
Hands grabbed her wrists and pulled her fingers away from her skin.
“Easy there,” Jayden said. “It’s just a dream.”
She stilled and focused on him as her heart slowed to normal. He knelt next to her mat. When she no longer gasped for breath, she said, “Thanks.”
Jayden released her and sat back on his heels. “I came to check on you. It’s angle ten.”
“Oh. Sorry. I’m—”
“Still recovering?”
“I don’t think so. I couldn’t sleep, but when I did, it wasn’t restful.” Far from it. She wondered if her bad dream was a symptom of using too much magic. Jayden stood and brushed the sand off his knees. “Do you want another sun jump to rest?”
“No.” Remembering Rendor’s comment about taking care of herself, she said, “Just give me five angles and I’ll meet you.”
Shyla hurried to change and eat. When she reached the surface, she paused to drink in the sunlight. It warmed her even though the air around her was still cool from the darkness. A breeze blew the sand, the ribbons flowing over the surface like translucent snakes. She breathed in the familiar scent of ginger mixed with anise.
Nearby, the first crew cleared sand. Rendor was among them. She wondered if he’d gotten any sleep. As if feeling her gaze on him, he glanced up and smiled at her. She returned it. What a sap.
Jayden was helping to smooth out the piles of sand that had been brought up from the temple. He used his magic to move the grains, making it appear to be undisturbed—a small dune in a series of equally unimposing dunes.
She joined him. “Is that the same as erasing tracks?”
“Yes, except you have to control more of the sand so it takes more concentration. And you need to envision the end result.” He swept a hand out to the miniature dunes. “As we clear the sand from the temple, I’m building these just like if they were etched by the wind. Slowly, gradually, angled perpendicular to the dominant wind direction. So if anyone noticed this patch of the desert over time, the dunes would not appear suddenly from one sun jump to the next.”
Gurice trudged over with another bucket and dumped it onto a new pile. “Must be nice to stand around doing nothing, enjoying the view,” she snarked.
“Yes. It’s lovely.” Jayden didn’t rise to the bait.
“You know I can make dunes while you schlep heavy buckets,” Gurice said.
“I know.” He turned to Shyla. “Gurice can make dunes as well, but, while I created four small dunes in a few angles without much effort, it would take her longer and sap all her strength.”
“Yeah, well, moving sand grains isn’t my forte,” she grumped.
“Can you erase your tracks?” Shyla asked.
“Yeah, but it’s harder than making a person see what I want them to see.” Her green eyes glowed with mischief. “That’s my specialty.”
