“That’s what I thought. Excuse me, I need to get my team ready for our mission.” Rendor strode from the room.

Shyla’s mouth hung open, but a tight knot in her throat blocked all sounds and made breathing difficult. Pressure and pain filled her chest like a velbloud’s air bladder. Still nothing escaped. Not even a squeak. She should run after him, grab his arm and tell him…what? That she believed if the others knew her feelings for him, they wouldn’t trust him? Was that the real reason? Or was she worried they wouldn’t trust her? No. They had faith in her. Then what?

Sitting on the mat, she cradled her head, trying to relax enough to draw in a deep breath. Was she having a panic attack? No. Perhaps she should have never made that damn speech. She recalled the words. Something in there niggled at her. A part of her must believe that the Invisible Swords would never accept Rendor. Then what would she do?

It struck her like an arrow to her heart. She didn’t have to do anything. Rendor would never betray their trust. And he certainly wouldn’t care what the others thought of him. So why should she?

She needed to find Rendor and explain. But was she ready to jump into his arms? What exactly did she feel for him? They’d flirted and she was physically attracted to him. Should she even be in a relationship? Her priorities had shifted from herself to all of Zirdai. Plus now she was responsible for the lives of twenty-nine Invisible Swords. Would being with Rendor be too much of a distraction? Or be too selfish?

This would be easier if she could peer into a mirror and read her own soul. But it hadn’t worked. Yes, she’d tried. She sagged back on her mat. Pain pulsed in her temples. Despite her promise to take it slow, she’d overextended her magic. And here she was angsting over Rendor when she should be resting.

She pulled her sun cloak up over her shoulders. Closing her eyes, she decided to nap for a few angles and then talk to Rendor before he left for his mission. The right words were sure to come at that time.

By the time she woke, Rendor and the others had gone. She stood on the surface at angle one-seventy. No sign of their tracks marked the sand. Ximen had done a good job erasing ten sets of boot prints. The sun hung low in the pink sky. Shyla chewed on her lower lip. Worry and fear took equal turns squeezing her heart.

Jayden joined her.

“Why didn’t anyone wake me before they left?” she asked him.

“No need. You put Rendor in charge. Unless you wanted to give him a kiss goodbye.” Jayden studied her.