“Yes. We’d need to link to a place down some long-forgotten tunnel that’s not too deep. Somewhere between levels six and twelve.” He straightened. “I’ll take a look. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to talk to a treasure hunter about earning us some coins.”

“Do you know how to get back here?” he asked.

“Only by crossing the plank.” She crinkled her nose, remembering the strength of the air blowing up from the depths, threatening to knock her off. Just the thought of standing on the edge conjured up the scent of gamelu meat mixed with damp sand that had been seared into her senses.

“Then pay attention on the way out.”

“All right.” Shyla pulled her wrap from her pack and arranged it to cover her short blond hair. Though it no longer stood up like bristles on a brush, her hair still had a long way to go to return to the length it had been before the deacon cut it off. One benefit to its current state was that it was easier to cover and keep clean.

She grabbed a druk as they crossed the common area. The vagrants had gathered to share first meal together. Her stomach grumbled when she smelled the velbloud eggs, but she continued past the tables.

Jayden grabbed her arm, stopping her. “We should eat first.”

“No. We’re not taking food from them. They—”

“Are happy to share. They know we’re trying to make their lives better. They want to support us in the ways they can. This is one way.”

And Jayden knew them best. But she only filled her water skin halfway before joining them. Their conversation reminded her of the meals she had growing up in the monastery. It was a similar exchange of their plans for the sun jump, a bit of gossip, a bit of teasing, some good-natured grumbling about work shifts, and arguments over stupid things like who cooked the best eggs. She’d missed that connection, that sense of family. The Invisible Swords hadn’t gotten there yet.

Once the meal finished, Jayden led her out to a familiar part of the city. They parted. She pulled her wrap lower, putting her face in shadow. Dressed like one of the citizens, she was practically invisible. No magic needed. She kept to the edges to avoid encountering them. But, of all the people she did pass, not many even glanced at her, and those who did didn’t really see her.

It struck her that all these people were just trying to survive, earning enough coin to pay for food and water for themselves and their families. And to avoid being noticed by the guards or deacons. The air hummed with a current of fear. People struggled to breathe in this toxic atmosphere.