It took her multiple tries to erase one print. Each time the print softened, but she couldn’t get it to disappear with one command like Jayden had. It took her three or four times.

“Try harder,” Jayden snapped, losing patience.

She added her annoyance at him to her magical suggestion. Return! Six prints vanished at once.

“Look at that,” Ximen said. “You should have made her mad sooner, Jay.”

Jayden gave him a sour look.

Ximen ignored him. “It’ll get easier with practice and eventually, as you walk through the sand, you’ll be able to erase your tracks as you go almost without thinking about it.” He demonstrated by striding away. As each of his feet lifted, the sand flowed right back to erase his print. Turning, he grinned at her. “Creepy, isn’t it? Another reason we’re called the Invisible Sword.”

Shyla crouched in a shadow, watching for ambushers. This mission was dangerous but necessary. Jayden and Mojag waited nearby. The tunnels leading to the Invisible Sword’s last hideout were narrow and dark. No druk light shone from them. The fact that Tamburah’s temple connected to Zirdai and no one except the Invisible Sword had known about it for five hundred thousand sun jumps still amazed her. She wondered what other discoveries lurked within the labyrinthine depths of Zirdai. The city had ninety-nine underground levels, if she included the level with the prison and the special torture rooms, and the very bottom level where the black river flowed.

“I don’t see anyone,” Jayden whispered.

Neither did she. And that wasn’t comforting. It could mean the watchers were well hidden. It was angle two-twenty. Not many people were out and about at this time, but there were enough that the three of them didn’t draw unwanted attention.

“Mojag, do you remember the route?” she asked.

He huffed. “Of course. I’ve done this lots of times.”

“No you haven’t,” Jayden said. “You’ve only been there once and that was right before we were attacked.”

“That you know of.” Mojag smirked at him.

“Did Gurice take—”

“Nah. Followed you.”

“How—”

“You can discuss this later,” Shyla said.

Mojag opened his druk. Orange-tinted light spilled out, indicating they were somewhere between levels thirteen and twenty-four. Druk light changed color with depth—a vital tool for those who were easily lost.