“Ah, the Blessed One was correct that you wouldn’t be able to resist,” said an Arch Deacon. He stood on the far left and had to be the leader. “Come with us, Sun-kissed, and your companion can take the baby and go.”

“That’s a decent offer. What do you think?” Jayden asked her.

“I think the Arch Deacon is a son of a sand demon and should be left on the surface to die.” She stared at the man but concentrated on his feet.

“Ouch.” Jayden pressed his free hand to his chest. He turned to the Arch Deacon. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Enough of this,” the man said, then to his companions, “Don’t kill the sun-kissed.”

The Arch Deacons stepped forward. Or, rather, they tried. The sand underneath them no longer supported their weight. Shyla increased her will, creating a deeper hole under the leader. Jayden focused on the other three.

Amid cries of disbelief and fear, the quartet sank up to their chests—a comical sight. Their arms remained on the surface and they struggled to break free. Jayden used the sand to yank the swords from their hands. The weapons disappeared into a dune. Then the grains trapped the men’s arms.

Not wasting time, Shyla crouched in front of the leader. She yanked the torque from his throat, then met his terrified gaze.

“You should be scared,” she said. Not bothering to question him, she probed the depths of his mind.

As she’d feared, they’d been setting this trap for the last couple sun jumps. They thought they’d be safe from her magic with the torques.

Shyla gave him a cold smile. “You’re never safe from me. And inform the Heliacal Priestess that if she tries to abandon another baby, everyone will be dragged deep under the sand and left there to die.”

Jayden removed the torques from the other three. Then they put the four Arch Deacons to sleep. Shyla scooped up the baby. Sweat glistened on its dark skin and the poor thing was overheated. Dehydrated, too—no tears leaked from its eyes and its wails were weak gasps. The blanket was twisted around the baby’s body. Shyla pulled it off and paused. The boy wasn’t sun-kissed. Outrage and horror filled her. The Heliacal Priestess had taken someone’s baby to trap Shyla.

The monks approached but then stopped as if afraid to come any closer.

“Are they dead?” Lota asked, nodding at the half-buried forms.

“No, sleeping. Before we leave, we’ll loosen the sand and wake them up so they can get inside before the danger zone.”

“We can take the baby to the monastery,” Lota said.

“He’s not sun-kissed.”

The monks glanced at each other.

Jayden peered over her shoulder. “Do you think they kidnapped the baby?”

“Knowing the Heliacal Priestess, she probably browbeat his parents to offer him to the Sun Goddess,” Shyla said in disgust.