But the shielder was far different from when Syla had seen it before. The two other times she’d visited, the whole contraption had glowed silver, the orb itself emitting moon-like light. Now, it not only lay dark, but a jagged hole had been created on one side, baring its core, a tangle of angular and tube-like innards that Syla couldn’t begin to make anything of. They looked more machine than magic.
“Stay here.” After glancing down the tunnel behind them, Fel moved to the left. He walked slowly around the chamber to check the nooks around each sarcophagus and ensure nobody crouched among them.
Syla couldn’t obey. Drawn by a need to identify the body and look more closely at the orb, she set her pack on the ground and let her feet pull her forward. She did glance toward the sarcophagi she passed, also checking for intruders, but she didn’t see anyonecrouching in the shadows. With the foul sabotage done, whoever had been responsible might have left hours ago.
She had to see the body even as she dreaded seeing it. For support, she rested a hand on the cold stone lid that covered the central sarcophagus, that which contained the remains of the first queen of the Garden Kingdom, a half-god, if the legends could be believed.
The woman on the floor—dear departed gods, itwasVenia—lay on her back with her eyes open, her blonde hair arrayed wildly around her head like a dandelion gone to seed. The top half of her dress was unbuttoned, as if she’d come down here for a tryst rather than a betrayal. A gargoyle-bone-bladed dagger was thrust into her heart, though she was cut in other places, too, as if there had been a fight first. There weren’t any other weapons visible, however, only the dagger that had ended her life. A rider weapon. The magic infused in gargoyle bones made them stronger than steel.
Syla closed her sister’s eyes, tears springing to her own at the coldness of Venia’s body. Lamenting that her sister would have to lie here on the stone floor a while longer, until a semblance of order could be restored, Syla wished she had a blanket with which to cover her. For now, all she could do was whisper one of the prayers for the dead, requesting a peaceful afterlife for Venia, protected by Venia’s chosen deity, the sun god.
After that, Syla wiped her eyes and made herself look away and examine the shielder more closely, especially the dark hole in the side. Had the gargoyle-bone dagger also been the weapon that had damaged the orb?
The magic of the shielders, the artifacts crafted by the gods themselves, supposedly made them strong.Verystrong. Legends spoke of arrows glancing off instead of penetrating. But… they weren’t completely impervious, otherwise they could be on display on the various islands, not hidden away, their locations carefully guarded secrets.
Syla crept closer to the orb and lifted a hand. When she’d been guided down here by her parents, she hadn’t presumed to touch the device, but maybe her magic could tell her… something helpful. Somethinghopeful. That the shielder wasn’t completely destroyed and could be fixed. It looked utterly dead, with no hint of light, heat, or magical energy coming from it, but maybe…
“You’re again not in the spot where I told you to stay,” Fel said.
A sarcastic retort came to mind, but Syla couldn’t summon the energy for it, not with her sister dead three feet away. She could only shake her head grimly as Fel joined her, and rest her hand on the unbroken side of the orb.
He watched her warily, as if afraid magical energy would hurl them across the chamber, but he didn’t try to stop her. If anything, his eyebrows rose with the faintest of hope.
The orb was cool against Syla’s palm, the texture grittier than she would have guessed, and she willed her magic to enter it, as if this were a patient with a broken bone she might repair. The moon-mark on her hand glowed, as if the magic would obediently do as she wished, but it didn’t leave her body and flow into the orb the way it did when she healed people and animals. For good or ill, the shielder was neither.
Nonetheless, she closed her eyes and attempted to sense what her eyes couldn’t see, as she did when she looked with her mind into the bodies of injured people. Was thereanythinginside that she might be capable of repairing? Or was there any hint of magic remaining? When she’d visited the chamber before, she’d been able to feel the shielder’s power from across the room. No, even sooner than that. She’d sensed it as soon as that hidden doorway had opened.
But now…
“Nothing,” she murmured.
“It’s completely destroyed?” Fel guessed.
“I…” As she withdrew her senses, pulling her magic back into her body, the faintest of sensations brushed against her awareness. Like a tiny hint of plant growth on a prairie that had been swept by wildfire. For a brief moment, she sensed magic. Power. Something alive. But when she tried to examine it more closely, it retreated. Had she imagined it? Or was she simply not attuned to this kind of power? “I’m not sure. We need an expert.”
“Arethere experts on the shielders? The legends don’t suggest they break or need any kind of maintenance.”
“I don’t think they do, but there’s Aunt Tibby.”
“The tractor engineer.”
“She’s moon-marked.”
“I’m sure the tractors like divine attention.”
Before Syla could retort, stone scraped nearby, startling her.
She sprang back from the orb as Fel whirled toward the central sarcophagus scant feet away. The lid crashed to the stone floor, and a warrior wielding a gargoyle-bone sword leaped out of the interior. Astormerwarrior.
Raising the blade, the man leaped straight toward Syla.
7
Fel reacted instantly,intercepting the warrior as he leaped from the sarcophagus, swinging his bone blade toward Syla’s head. She scrambled back but crashed against the shielder and wouldn’t have evaded death if not for her bodyguard.
Fel knocked the warrior to the ground, but their opponent was agile and twisted in the air to land on his feet. With grace Syla would have admired if the man hadn’t been trying tokillher, he switched the swing of his sword toward Fel.
Using his mace, Fel parried the blow while ordering, “Take cover,” to Syla. “Out of the way.”
