She wasn’t sure she could trust them. Plus the deacons would be suspicious. No, they’d have to send someone who knew the location, someone who was good at staying hidden, and someone who had powerful magic. Jayden, Mojag, and her.
Rendor clasped her hand. “It’s suicide, Shyla. The Heliacal Priestess and Water Prince don’t care about any of the Invisible Swords. Except you. You’re the prize they both want.”
“I can’t hide here when my people are in danger. That’s not how this is going to work.”
“I know. But you can’t blame me for trying.”
She squeezed his fingers. Her golden-brown skin was a few shades lighter than his. He blended in well with the shadows. But with his powerful frame and oversized shoulders, he stood out among the citizens of Zirdai. About eight centimeters taller than Jayden, he loomed over all the Invisible Swords, unintentionally intimidating them. At one point in time, he intimidated her. But she’d grown immune to his scowls, glares, and imposing body language. Well, mostly.
Rendor tilted his head in Jayden’s direction. “I’m guessing you’ll take him.”
“Yes, but we’re just going to do a little reconnaissance.”
“I can help.”
“I know.”
“Are you sure you do? I can do more than shovel sand,” he grumped.
“I’m sure. But let’s face it, you look mighty fine when you shovel sand.”
He leaned closer. “Sunbeam, I’d be happy to give you a private show anytime.” His voice rasped low and husky.
She swallowed. Was the room always this warm?
He laughed at her expression. Annoyed, she swatted his arm with her free hand. It was like slapping marble. Rendor laughed harder.
Before they left for their mission, Jayden insisted on teaching her how to cover their tracks in the sand. Jayden, Ximen, and Shyla stood in the desert near the temple at angle one-sixty. Waves of heat rose from the dunes as the sun neared the end of its jump. They’d planned to enter the city at angle one-eighty when all the other citizens were returning home before darkness.
“The monks taught me—”
“How to walk without leaving footprints behind,” Jayden finished for her. “This is different and doesn’t require special wide-soled boots. It requires magic.”
In that case, Shyla was more motivated to learn.
“Remember when the Invisible Sword ambushed you and Rendor?”
Hard to forget. Twelve of them had sprung from the dune, grabbed her and skewered Rendor with two swords. “Are you going to teach me how to travel through sand?” Finally!
“No.”
“But—”
“Baby steps, Shyla,” Ximen said. “Moving grains of sand is like rolling marbles. If you try to roll too many at once, you’ll lose control. Only with practice can you roll large quantities.”
“Magic is the real reason we’re called the Invisible Sword,” Jayden said.
“Really? I thought it was because we can use it to make people think we’re invisible, and because we stay out of sight.”
“That’s a part of it as well, but magic is invisible and it’s a weapon that we wield like a sword. Hence, an invisible sword. We call people who can use the magic wielders. When the organization first formed, only wielders were members of the Invisible Sword. However, in the five hundred thousand sun jumps since, there have been fewer and fewer people born with the potential to wield magic.” Jayden swept out a hand. “Sand responds to our magic like people do. We push our will at someone and suggest a person falls asleep. You start with one person but eventually you can work up to putting many people to sleep.” Jayden turned around, gazing at their three sets of boot prints that trailed back to the temple. “I’m going to concentrate on a patch of sand and suggest it cover one of the prints.”
Shyla stared at their tracks. The movement was subtle, as if a slight breeze blew over just that narrow patch. The boot print slowly filled in and disappeared, leaving behind smooth, untouched sand. Impressive.
“Why does the sand respond?” she asked. “It’s not alive. It doesn’t have a consciousness like a person.”
Jayden bent over, scooped up a handful, and held it close to her. Piled in his palm, the mound of individual grains reflected various hues of pink, red, orange, tan, and purple.
“Our ancestors are part of this sand,” Jayden said. “As it slowly and inexorably buried their cities and forests, as it filled their lakes and oceans, the sand consumed them as well. Over many circuits the sand is blown away, exposing the skeletons to the abrasive wind. Over time, the bones are reduced to the size of sand grains. This sand remembers who it used to be.”
