When she reached the surface building, the sunlight blinded her. And the heat immediately closed in, baking the sweat from her skin. Invisible fire burned with each inhalation. Soon her eyes adjusted to the brilliance and she changed into her sun cloak, leaving Kaveri’s robe on the bench. The monks who guarded the entrance hadn’t returned yet.

Out in the full sunshine, the velbloud fibers of her cloak helped lessen the intensity of the sun, but the desert’s bright colors hurt. Which didn’t make sense. Colors shouldn’t be painful.

Yet, as she sloughed through the blistering sand, various aches woke. The fiery press of heat on her head and shoulders increased her fatigue. And the effort to erase her footprints caused her muscles to tremble so much she had to quit hiding them once she was half a kilometer away. The distance to the Invisible Sword’s headquarters stretched toward impossible. She’d almost halted in defeat. But, in order to keep moving, Shyla set small goals.

Just get to the top of this dune.

Ten steps.

Twelve more steps.

Just reach that patch of shade.

The heat had thinned slightly by the time she arrived at the entrance. She staggered to a stop, gathering the last dregs of her energy to mount the ladder. The lookout climbed from the temple. He jerked in surprise when he noticed her standing there.

“Are you all right?” Balin asked.

“I’m fine,” she croaked.

Dubious, he raised his thick black eyebrows at her. “What are you doing out here?”

She considered a sarcastic reply, but it was a legitimate question. “I just came from the monastery.” Overlooking how his eyebrows lifted even higher—a rather amazing feat—she gestured to her tracks and explained about the guards. “Keep an eye in this direction in case they find them and follow me. I’ll send someone to erase them.”

“All right.”

If the guards appeared in the distance, Balin would sound the alarm, and those who had magic would cover the entrance, the ventilation shafts, and any tracks with sand. That was, if any of them were here. Between the city and the dig site, there weren’t many around. More reason to increase their numbers.

After the ridiculously complex task of descending the ladder, Shyla found Gurice, ignored her questions, and sent her to the surface. Then she gulped half of the water in her water skin and collapsed onto her mat with a groan.

Despite her near miss with the guards and the exhaustion that had sunk deep into her bones, she still wished she’d stolen a sleeping cushion from the monks.

“You do understand that you’re not only endangering yourself but the rest of us as well?” Gurice asked.

“I’m aware of the risks,” Shyla said, swallowing down a sigh. No surprise that she’d encountered resistance to her plan to visit Tamburah’s judgment chamber.