The deacon on the left cried out. “It’s her!” He lunged forward, grabbing a man who was a few paces in front of her. “I’ve got the sun-kissed!” Yanking the poor man’s hood down, the deacon tightened his grip on the guy’s shoulders.

“Are you blind? That’s not the sun-kissed,” his partner said.

“Yes, it is.”

“No—”

The sun-kissed.

“Watch out. She has a knife!” He pulled his dagger.

“No. Stop, you idiot.”

Shyla skirted the two grappling deacons and sent a silent apology to the man she’d used. Striding along one of the well-used paths to avoid leaving footprints, she stopped the image when she was a safe distance away. Then she ducked behind a dune to catch her breath. That little deception cost her. And she doubted it would work a second time. Once the two deacons figured out what had happened and reported it, the priestess would change tactics.

Even though she was tempted to head straight to the temple, Shyla took a more circuitous route. The effort to smooth out her tracks became a test of her will. The sand grains resisted and moved with a heavy reluctance each time she stopped.

Her tunic was soaked with sweat when she arrived at the temple. The early angle crew were clearing sand. Gurice dumped her bucket and intercepted Shyla before she reached the entrance.

“Where’s Rendor?” Gurice asked.

A sharp pain ringed the empty spot where her heart had been. “He’s not coming back.”

Gurice was smart enough to avoid asking why. Instead, she squeezed Shyla’s arm in support. “His loss.” She returned to work.

When Shyla entered the common room on level eight, Jayden was at a table with Aphra. She considered it a win that the treasure hunter had decided to join them. As she approached, Jayden glanced behind her as though expecting Rendor to be there. His gaze returned to her and he studied her expression. He too was smart and didn’t question Rendor’s absence or celebrate it.

“I was explaining the rules to Aphra,” Jayden said. “Which shift do you want her on?”

“None of them.” Shyla plopped onto a cushion opposite the woman. She made eye contact, gazing into her golden-brown eyes. “Are you committed to helping us?”

“Yes,” Aphra said.

The truth. “Good. I’ve a job for you.” Shyla dug into her pack and removed the map to Gorgain’s crypt. Smoothing it out on the table, she pointed to the grave diggers’ tunnel. “This will lead you right to the crypt. I need you to recover his crown and ruby torque. Can you do it?”

Aphra studied the scroll. “With the right equipment.”

“We have people, shovels, buckets, and pulleys.”

“How many people?”

“Twenty.”

“We can’t spare anyone,” Jayden said. “We—”

Shyla shot him a quelling glare. “This is a priority. We’re running out of osees.”