Ghost in the Winds (Ghost Exile #9) by Jonathan Moeller

her sons could be saved. Damla still remembered the cold fire in the younger woman’s eyes as she had spoken.
    No. Damla had not despaired then. She would not despair now.
    “If we must do this, then we must do this,” said Damla, opening her eyes. “How will we open the gate to Lord Tanzir’s army?”
    “I have some thoughts on the matter,” said Agabyzus, and the three of them started to plot.

Chapter 6: Sentinels
     
    “How long will she stay unconscious?” said Morgant.
    “I don’t know,” said Caina. 
    They stood on either side of Annarah, gazing down at her. Caina had asked her pyrikon to take its staff form, and a steady white glow came from the end of the ghostsilver staff, illuminating the glittering armory. Light flashed off gems and jewels and golden blades and polished armor, and Caina’s eyes made out the rows of Maatish hieroglyphs upon the walls. Kharnaces might have been a heretic and a traitor to the pharaoh, but the solemn tradition of the Maatish demanded that he still be buried as befitting a Great Necromancer, so he had been buried as a Great Necromancer, albeit with many notations upon the walls denoting his crimes. 
    The Great Necromancers had been rigid and legalistic in their cruelties. No wonder the Moroaica had hated them so much. 
    “We could carry her out of here,” said Morgant, glancing at the shimmering white wall of light that sealed off the doorway. 
    “We could,” said Caina, “but the nagataaru will sense her. She can’t shield herself while she’s unconscious.”
    “Then tell your pyrikon to shield her,” said Morgant.“I’m…not sure that would work,” said Caina. “The pyrikon might just work for me. We won’t know until we test it, and if we test it and it doesn’t work, we’re dead.” 
    “So we wait until she wakes up?” said Morgant. “That could be days.”
    “I know,” said Caina. A dozen undead baboons waited outside the archway, staring at Annarah with their empty eyes. “Kylon was unconscious for several days after he took the Elixir. I was in a coma for nearly a month.”
    “Yes, but you’re special,” said Morgant.
    Caina gave him a flat look. 
    “The shadow-cloak,” said Morgant. “We wrap her in the shadow-cloak, and we carry her out of the Tomb.” 
    “If we drop her,” said Caina, “or if we bump into one of the nagataaru, we’re finished. It’s hard to avoid the undead while carrying an unconscious woman.” 
    “If we wait a few days for Annarah to wake up,” said Morgant, “by the time we get to the beach, Murat will have departed.” 
    “I know that, too,” said Caina. “I’m not going to leave her here for the nagataaru to kill.” 
    “Then what do you suggest we do?” said Morgant. “I don’t want to leave Annarah here to die, but if we don’t leave soon, she’ll wake up to a world overrun by Callatas’s monsters. Or she’ll starve to death before she wakes up.” 
    Part of Caina’s mind whispered that it was futile, that Callatas would complete the Apotheosis long before they ever returned to Istarinmul. Why not lie down and die? They had already lost.
    “I need to think for a moment,” said Caina. She sighed, stepped back, and picked up a golden helmet from one of the stone tables. “Wait here. I need to relieve myself. Please don’t stare.”
    “While wearing a helmet?” said Morgant. “That’s very strange. Do you always wear a helmet while you…”
    Caina sighed and turned over the helmet. “As a bucket. I’m going to use it as a bucket.” She waved a hand at the doorway. “If the nagataaru break into here, I’d rather not fight them while slipping in our own wastes.”
    She expected another barbed remark, but Morgant only nodded. 
    “Sensible,” said Morgant, and he turned his back to her to watch the nagataaru. “Though I suppose I’m not taking that helmet back with me to sell in Istarinmul.”
    “I wouldn’t advise it,” said Caina, retreating to the corner of the