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Maiya had dreamed of this moment for months. When she fled her cult prison and returned to civilization. To normalcy. To safety.
Playing the role of an undercover agent had placed far more stress on her than she could’ve imagined, to say nothing of the assassination attempts.
Yes, attempts—there had been more than one. First, it had been poison. If Riyan and Kin’jal hadn’t trained Maiya to detect exactly that sort of thing, she’d be long dead by now. When the third poisoning attempt failed, the Blessed Chosen seemed to get the hint, switching to assassination.
Needless to say, that didn’t go over well. There was no one in the Children of Ash who could take Maiya head-on, and she was far too careful to allow anyone to get the jump on her. Even in her sleep.
As for it being the Blessed Chosen behind these attempts, she had little doubt it could’ve been anyone else. The Sisters of Gray were on her side, Camas and his buddies had been cowed into submission, and there wasn’t anyone else with sufficient motive.
On the other hand, the Blessed Chosen had everything to lose. She was nearly ready to depose him, and he’d made his hostility clear during their last encounter. Furthermore, even if he possessed the strength, he couldn’t kill Maiya himself. The moment the Sisters learned of this act—and they would learn—he’d be ousted.
No, the Blessed Chosen had to act carefully, targeting Maiya through means that would never trace back to him.
Maiya sighed.
When heaped on top of her obligations as the Blessed Prophet, the constant pressure had threatened to crush her. She yearned desperately for the security of Sonam’s sturdy walls.
Her only reprieve lately had been the precious hours she spent talking to Vir.
Is it the same for him as well, I wonder. He’ll be at Samar Patag by now… Can’t wait to hear what it’s like!
It was strange to talk to someone who was realms apart. Until she’d established communications, she’d been almost convinced it wouldn’t be possible. She’d hoped, of course. But what were the chances?
Maiya was sure the designers of the orb didn’t have an inkling it worked between the Human and Demon Realms.
Nor would they. Maiya wasn’t telling anyone about her secret. Not even Princess Ira. Her lifeline to Vir was the most precious thing in her whole world, and nobody would take that away from her.
“Erm, you’re just gonna skip the line, then?” Yamal asked, and Maiya suppressed a sigh for what felt like the tenth time.
When she’d secured her leave from the Children’s secret compound beneath Jatan Forest, she’d braced herself for an uphill battle. Even convincing the cult to allow her to leave had taken intense pressure and weeks of negotiating. The Children were adamant that their holiest figure never leave—that she’d have her every need taken care of.
Too bad for them, they were dealing with Maiya. When she’d threatened to walk out on them and abscond from her duties, they’d finally agreed. That was, only if she took a small army with her.
Which was not going to work, for several reasons. Waltzing into Sonam with a band of cultists would be like announcing to the world who she was. There was no way the guards would let them all through into the city, let alone the royal castle.
It was Yamal and the Silent One who’d intervened on her behalf, and while Maiya couldn’t be sure, it seemed to be the Silent One’s support that had ultimately swayed them.
Maiya still hadn’t broached that topic with her big friend. She had no right to—not until she came clean about who she was.
And that required gaining permission from Princess Ira first. Her reports had all been one-way, and while she’d written in great detail to the princess about Yamal and The Silent One’s personalities and actions thus far, Maiya intended to leave them at some bar before her meeting with Ira.
Before that, though, she looked forward to seeing her new place—her house—for the first time.
“Yes,” Maiya said, answering Yamal’s earlier question. “I’m cutting the queue.”
“I’m… quite certain the guards won’t tolerate that, Maiya,” Yamal said, glancing nervously at the dozens of people who gave him dirty looks. “This is Sonam. Capital of the Kin’jal Empire. They’re sticklers for the rules. It’s what they’re known for.”
Maiya ignored the man and strode up to the gate guard captain, who looked her over.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m afraid I must ask you to wait in line like the… oh.”
Maiya flashed a badge. The guard’s eyes bulged.
“My apologies,” he said, standing straight. “Please, carry on.”
Maiya nodded her approval and continued into the wall that served as Sonam’s exterior gate.
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“Okay, just who are you, Maiya?” Yamal asked as they walked through the wall. The large passage was wide enough to accommodate even the Silent One comfortably, having been designed for carriages and other vehicles. It turned to the right and continued for fifty paces inside the wall, before turning left again to admit them into Sonam’s Fire Fields.
“Sorry, guys,” Maiya said once they were through. “I’ll tell you everything. Just bear with me a little longer, alright?”
They continued in awkward silence until the second set of walls that divided the fields from the city proper. Sonam was essentially a citadel, just built on the size of a megacity. It was a maze of walls within walls within walls, with every district separated from each other.
Maiya flashed her badge again, and this time, the guard stopped her.
“One moment, ma’am,” he said, handing Maiya a sealed letter. “For you, with highest urgency.”
Maiya broke open the royal seal before Yamal and The Silent One could see, and unfurled the letter.
Welcome home, Maiya! Why don’t you head to your house once you arrive? Oh, and bring your two friends as well. I can’t *wait* to catch up and have tea together! Don’t be a stranger!
Yours,
Ira
Maiya reread the message in disbelief.
How is this urgent, Ira?
It sounded exactly like a teenage girl writing about wanting to chat with a friend. Except, it had the royal seal, which meant Ira had used a royal messenger to deliver it.
“This country is doomed,” she muttered, hanging her head.
“What was that?” Yamal asked.
“Change of plans,” Maiya said. “We’ll go together.”
If Ira wanted the two along, then it meant she approved of them being privy to Maiya’s situation. At least, to a degree. If Maiya had learned one thing about the princess, it was that her every action had layers of hidden agenda and meaning.
“Go?” he asked. “Where?”
“You’ll see…”
----------------------------------------
Yamal smirked at Maiya’s back as she led them through Sonam’s South Commons district. If she thought she could surprise him, she was in for quite the shock.
“So this is the moment you show us your Sawai manor, yes?” Yamal said, fully intending to make Maiya suffer. She hadn’t uttered so much as a whisper about her true identity, yet now, an image was forming in Yamal’s mind.
“No? Then allow me to share my theory,” he said.
“Go right ahead,” Maiya replied with obvious annoyance.
“Well, it’s clear as day from the way the guards treat you that you’re someone important. Which can only mean one thing.”
“Oh?” Maiya asked, navigating the crowded streets. She moved through the throng with the grace of someone who’d grown up in the city.
“Sawai. You are nobility. And if I may say it, you do a poor job of hiding it.”
“Oh?” Maiya asked, turning just enough for Yamal to see the slight grin on her face. “Go on, Yamal. I insist. I’d love to hear this.”
Yamal pushed past people in the narrow streets, struggling to keep up. But he couldn’t afford to fall behind. His honor wouldn’t allow it.
“You were on the fast track to becoming a prominent mejai within the Balarian military,” he said. “Except this wasn’t the life you wished for. It was the life foisted upon you by your overbearing father. Perhaps your mother as well.”
“Wooow. You’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?” Maiya said. From his position behind her, he couldn’t make out her expression, but Yamal could hear the surprise in her voice.
I have you now!
“Tisn’t not an uncommon tale, I’m afraid,” Yamal said. “I saw it many times during my merchant days. Even made some good deals with young Sawai off to spend their parents’ coin. So? To which house do you belong?”
Maiya turned, and this time Yamal saw her grin.
“Why don’t you wait and see?” she said, looking up at the wall they’d arrived at.
Yamal craned his neck. It took him a moment to gain his bearings. Why were they here, of all places?
The traffic had thinned, and few people went in or out of the gate.
“Er, Maiya? I believe you might be lost. This is the Royal Quarter.”
Maiya’s grin widened. “Yes? And?”
Yamal’s brows furrowed further. Maiya flashed her badge at the guard—too quickly for Yamal to see—who admitted her as speedily as the other guards had.
Except something was wrong. The guard shouldn’t have allowed her in. Let alone Yamal and the Silent One.
Yamal looked up at the big man and found that he, too, was frowning.
That makes both of us, friend, Yamal thought.
The Royal Quarter was composed of several sub-districts. At the very core was the castle itself. Most had never laid eyes on its grounds, and they never would; only royalty and their guests could enter and exit at will.
Suffice it to say, Yamal hadn’t ever dreamed of seeing that place in this life.
Ringing the castle walls was the headquarters of the Balarian Garrison. While not large enough to house the entire Balarian army, a significant number were stationed at the Garrison at any time. It was where they trained and lived.
If Kin’jal were ever attacked, invaders would have to fight their way through the Garrison to make it to the castle—assuming the unending rings of walls didn’t stop them.
It was absolute overkill. It was thoroughly Kin’jal.
Outside the Garrison lay the outer Royal Quarter. Only the uppermost echelon of the Sawai aristocracy had their mansions in this district. It was considered a great honor—the highest.
Yamal had been here only once in his life, back when he’d been part of a large Merchant’s Guild trade deal with a dozen others. He was a small fry, brought along only by the whims of his friends.
He’d felt like a fish out of water back then, and he felt the same way now.
She’s not just Sawai. She’s someone incredibly high up.
The mystery surrounding Maiya continued to grow ever thicker. Why would such a high-ranking daughter eschew her silver—nay, golden—spoon? Yamal understood rebellious teenage streaks—he’d seen it many times in his career. But this? Who would give up all of this to fall in with blood cultists?
Perhaps Maiya was more far gone than she had them believe.
Still, Maiya was clearly Sawai. Likely a nobleman’s daughter—on the fast track to becoming a prominent mejai within the Balarian military.
And then, when Maiya breezed past the opulent estates and arrived at the wall to the Balarian Garrison, Yamal’s understanding of Maiya shattered all over again.
She’s with the Kin’jal Military!?
This changed everything. If Maiya was a Balarian Warrior, many things suddenly made sense. Her power—her confidence. Yet why would Kin’jal send a lone Balarian Warrior into the ranks of cultists? She didn’t have a chance in the Ash to destroy the Children on her own.
Unless she isn’t the only operative. Is she part of a larger initiative? Have the Children been seeded with Balarian Warriors?
Chills ran down Yamal’s back at the implication. If Kin’jal was about to wage war with the Children of Ash, then Yamal was in a very precarious position. He could find his head on a pike for no reason other than being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
The gears in Yamal’s head spun as he devised ways of extricating himself from the organization.
And then, against all odds, Maiya arrived at yet another wall.
“Oh no. Oh nonono. You’re joking. Tell me you’re joking, Maiya!” Yamal shouted in panic.
Even the Silent One was wringing his wrists.
This couldn’t be possible. Was this a dream? It had to be.
Maiya flashed her badge… and was once again admitted.
Into the Castle Grounds.
Yamal gazed up at the sky… and laughed helplessly.
Maiya wasn’t Sawai. She wasn’t part of the Balarian Guard.
She was royalty.
Yamal locked eyes with the Silent One.
We’ve been played. We’ve been thoroughly, splendidly, played.