She managed to reach level seven, but Yates must have brought more than a platoon because there were plenty of guards stationed at the various ramps to the upper levels. Too many for her to handle. Besides, it was still too hot to be higher than level six. Shyla considered borrowing a robe and trying to sneak by them, but as she watched from a hidden spot, the guards yanked the hoods down on all the monks who had them up.

Her only option was to stay hidden until the surface cooled enough for her to use one of the escape tunnels. Except she soon learned that guards blocked those as well. She had to grudgingly admit Captain Yates wasn’t an idiot. Panic churned and bubbled up her throat. She swallowed it down.

Hoping the guards had already searched level seven, Shyla sought a place to hide. The kitchen and dining area were nearby, but second meal would be in full swing. Perhaps if she found a robe, she could blend in with the monks there. Too bad there weren’t robes just lying around.

She spent the next ten or twenty angles dodging guards. Each close encounter sapped her strength a little more. At this rate, they would find her curled up in a corner sound asleep.

At a loss for what to do, she kept moving until she realized groups of monks had joined in the search for her. They weren’t obvious about it, but she sensed their intent to find her. Too tired to figure out why, and hoping it was for a good reason, she trailed one of them until she thought it was safe to reveal her presence.

The five of them quickly surrounded her—not to attack, but to hide her. Without a word, they headed to the kitchen where they left her. Huh? After glancing briefly in her direction, the staff returned to their duties. The savory scent of roast gamelu enticed her to the stew pot despite her unsettled stomach. She helped herself. Why not? This might be her last meal.

Soon a group of three monks entered the kitchen. This time, she recognized Kaveri.

“We don’t have much time,” Kaveri said.

An understatement. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve a plan to help you.” Kaveri took off her robe. Underneath she wore a plain tunic and pants much like the ones the citizens wore. Actually, very similar to what Shyla wore.

“Here.” Kaveri handed her the robe. “Put that on.”

“But—”

“Trust me.”

And since the woman was her mother, Shyla did.

Kaveri handed a pair of scissors to another monk. “Be quick.”

Shyla watched in fascinated horror as the monk cut Kaveri’s hair short. Long strands of beautiful yellow hair floated to the floor. “You…”

“Don’t worry, it’ll grow back,” Kaveri said, unconcerned.