Her thoughts swirled. What was she going to say to Rendor? During all those angles searching for him, she’d been too focused on the hunt when she should have been composing an…apology? Yes. An apology.

The food and water revived her further. She clambered from the cushion—an uncoordinated and graceless endeavor. A newborn gamelu gained its feet with more aplomb. Granted, she was unused to the cushion’s extra thickness. She paused. Her thin sleeping mat at the temple was pathetic in comparison. Not much of an enticement for Rendor to return. And why the sudden focus on a cushion? Because it was easier than facing Rendor.

A narrow opening connected this room to another. She crossed through it. This one contained a couple cushions to sit on, a low table, and a trunk with a sand clock sitting on top. It was angle one-eighty—she’d slept the entire sun jump. Two druks hung on the wall. A rough stained-glass door meant there were no more living spaces. Nowhere else that Rendor could be. She peeked out the door just in case he was standing guard. The tunnel was dimly lit and two distant figures headed toward her. Their voices echoed. She ducked back inside before they spotted her.

She wondered if this was his place or if he was squatting here. It was bigger than her tiny single room on level three when she’d been a legal citizen.

With nothing to do but wait, Shyla considered her apology. But soon her thoughts turned dark. What if Rendor didn’t return? Now she fretted. What if he was injured? Or he was caught? She couldn’t do anything to help him. Not yet. And she needed to leave at angle zero; staying in Zirdai any longer would be too dangerous. A million horrible scenarios played out in her mind.

To keep from obsessing over Rendor, she considered what had happened in the chapel. She hadn’t planned on commanding the deacons to experience pain if they hurt another person, but the sight of that child had triggered such fury that she considered ending all their lives. Wished it. Would the temptation to force others to do her bidding grow until she no longer thought it was wrong? Was that what had happened to Tamburah? He hadn’t started out as a despot. Had the power of The Eyes corrupted him? Or had they given him the power to do what he longed to do all along?

She sighed. Why couldn’t anything be simple? Was it too much to wish The Eyes came with instructions that made sense? Right now, she felt as if she were stumbling around in the dark, hoping not to slam into a wall. Same with Rendor. What was she supposed to do in this situation? She’d never cared for anyone like this and it appeared she’d already ruined it.