Dave had considered that option and dismissed it. "Look at the climate control system. Whatever is inside requires precise environmental conditions. An explosion would compromise that. The temperature spike, the pressure change, and the debris contamination could ruin whatever is there."
"You think something is buried under the sand?" Losham asked.
It was a rhetorical question.
"Why else would there be so much of it? This isn't decoration. The sand is there to conceal something, and whatever it is, Navuh considered it important enough to build this elaborate enclosure for it."
"The enclosure is new," Losham said. "It was built after the flooding in the harem. Whatever is under the sand must have been moved from there."
"I'm surprised he didn't share the information with you," Dave said. "He brought you in as his right-hand man and yet kept things from you."
The words landed exactly as Dave intended. Losham's expression hardened. "We need to find out what is in there. The glass is impenetrable without explosives, and the entry is sealed behind biometrics we can't bypass. But the enclosure isn't floating in space. It's built into the basement infrastructure. Perhaps we can drill through the walls." Losham pointed to the far end of the enclosure, where the glass met solid stone. "The glass is set into the wall, but the wall itself is probably just concrete and rebar. Standard construction. We can breach it with the right equipment—jackhammers, excavation tools, patience."
"It would take time," Dave said. "Days, probably. Maybe a week depending on how thick the walls are. But we can keep it controlled and breach the enclosure without disturbing what is inside. At least not too much."
"I'll assign a crew, and you will need to keep them compelled. I don't want rumors spreading about this for obvious reasons. Our charade will be exposed if anyone finds out we are digging through the mansion's basement walls." Losham turned to leave. "I need to question the guards who assisted with the harem evacuation. Maybe they know what was taken out of there and brought here. Although Navuh probably compelled them to keep it a secret."
"Regrettably, we're not strong enough yet to break through his compulsion."
"Not yet," Losham said. "But you're getting stronger."
"The effect of Navuh's compulsion will fade over time," Dave said. "Eventually, the guards will be able to talk, and we'll learn what they know."
"By then, we will have other worries."
Dave understood what Losham implied. The compulsion was what kept the thousands of warriors on this island in check. It maintained order and obedience across an army that would tear itself apart without that mental leash.
When Navuh's compulsion faded completely, someone would need to replace it. Someone would need to step into that role to become the new voice that the army obeyed without question.
Dave intended to be that someone.
"We'll deal with that when it happens," Dave said. "For now, let's focus on what's behind this glass."
Losham nodded and left, his footsteps fading up the corridor toward the stairs.
Dave remained, all eight of him converging on the glass enclosure, eight pairs of eyes staring at the sand within.
The dunes seemed to shimmer in the artificial light, golden, mysterious, and silent.
17
TULA
The dress was perfect.
Tula turned in front of the mirror, admiring the way the deep emerald silk hugged her growing belly before flowing out in soft waves that swirled around her knees when she moved. Amanda had helped her choose it, insisting that the color would bring out the golden undertones in Tula's skin and complement her dark hair.
She'd been right, of course. Amanda had great taste in fashion.
The delicate strappy sandals with a modest heel completed the look. It might be a little too cold for sandals in the evening, but they were beautiful, and she just couldn't resist.
"You look beautiful," Esag said from the doorway.
He was leaning against the frame, watching her with a besotted expression that made her stomach flutter. He'd cleaned up nicely himself and wore a pair of dark slacks and a crisp white shirt open at the collar, and he had even trimmed his beard. His eyes traveled over her slowly, appreciatively, and she felt warmth pool low in her belly.
"Don't look at me like that or we are not going to make it to the party."
He grinned. "Is that supposed to be a threat?"
