Her gait was casual but deliberate, and she walked up to the door and knocked.
As she did, Maiya’s handmaidens had casually maneuvered into position, with several coming together to engage in discussions with each other. A handful of tussles broke out, starting with shouts and loud voices.
All to hide Maiya’s physical presence and mask the sound of her knocking. If any regular slum dwellers were present, it’d have been impossible to spot Maiya among the ruckus playing out.
Though she kept her expressionless mask, Maiya wanted nothing more than to smile with pride. There was no feeling in the world as satisfying as being in command of such an elite group. Though they were second to none in combat, Ira’s handmaidens were not merely fighters. They were veteran spies and master actors. They were experts at improvisation, and they were elite engineers. They were whatever they needed to be for the situation at hand, and they excelled at everything they did.
Which was why Maiya knew that should this situation turn violent, the handmaidens would have her back.
She kept knocking. And kept on knocking, even as minutes passed.
They couldn’t ignore her forever, and with such a ruckus brewing outside, someone was bound to know.
More likely, Riyan had scouts who’d been reporting back. He’d known from the very beginning.
But if he was hoping they’d give up and go away, they were horribly wrong.
The sounds had drawn spectators, and it wasn’t long after that a crowd formed.
And then, in the distance, Maiya heard what she’d been waiting for.
The city guard had arrived.
Calls of ‘Break it up!’ and ‘What’s going on here’ grew steadily louder, and in just moments, the guard would be upon Riyan’s building. And that was something Riyan very much did not want.
Sure enough, with less than a minute remaining, the door opened. Betraying Maiya’s expectations, it wasn’t an attendant or a low-level grunt that greeted her.
It was Riyan Savar himself, and he was scowling.
“If you value your life, leave.”
Maiya’s heart skipped a beat. The authority behind his words hadn’t lessened a drop, despite the half-mask he wore that hid part of his face.
Then again, Maiya wasn’t the same village girl she’d once been. Rather than quiver in fear, it was another sensation entirely that coursed through her veins.
Giddiness.
He hadn’t recognized her! The man who taught her the art of makeup had himself failed to see through her disguise.
“Wow, Riyan,” she replied, her voice full of sarcasm. “Is that what you say to your long-lost disciple?”
To his credit, Riyan maintained an expressionless mask, betraying no hint of the surprise Maiya knew he felt.
“You…” he breathed.
Maiya smudged off her makeup. “In the flesh. And do you have any idea how hard it was to get a hold of you?”
Riyan frowned. “I do not understand. Why are you here? Who are these people?”
Maiya beamed. “Why don’t you let me come inside, and we can chat.” She thumbed over to the guards who pierced their way through the crowd. “Because I’m pretty sure they’d very much like to have a talk once they find out about your little operation.”
Again, if he was surprised, Riyan didn’t show it, though his frown deepened, and this time, it bore the creases of suspicion. “What do you want?”
“Nothing much. Just wanted to talk about how we’re going to overthrow not just Sai’s government, but King Rayid Hiranya as well. In favor of a far better ruler. One you already approve of.”
Riyan’s eyes widened, and this time, not even his own prodigious acting skills could stop him from expressing his surprise. Surprise… and interest.
Maiya raised a mental fist in victory.
Got him.
100
CLANDESTINE GATHERINGS (PART THREE) (MAIYA)
Maiya made to enter, but Riyan stopped her.
“What will you do about this?” he asked, gesturing his chin to the ruckus.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Maiya replied with a coy smirk. “Just watch.”
At that moment, a ‘ruffian’ caught sight of the guards, and panicked, pushing the crowd in an attempt to get away.
That, of course, prompted the guards to peel off and follow.
This, in turn, caused a dam to break, and all the ‘thugs’ who’d been ‘fighting’ broke off and split in every direction. The guards gave chase, but were hampered by the crowd.
Not one paid any mind to the door Maiya was standing in front of.
“See?” Maiya said with a grin.
“You’ve some explaining to do, girl,” Riyan said, beckoning for her to enter.
She did so, but when her squad of four motioned to do the same, Riyan raised a hand.
“No. Not them. Only you.”
Their motions were nearly nonexistent, but Maiya caught the subtle repositioning of their arms and the bending of their knees as they braced for combat.
“I think you could spare me a few girls…” Maiya bluffed.
“Hardly a few girls,” Riyan said, calling her bluff. “They are trained. Exceedingly well, from the way they move. They could wreak havoc in here if they so chose.”
Maiya raised an amused brow. “And I can’t?”
Riyan didn’t answer, confirming her thoughts. He still didn’t know that she was the one he fought in Kartara. As far as Riyan was concerned, Maiya had suddenly shown up after years away.
Good. That’ll make this easier, Maiya thought.
But she wasn’t ready to concede just yet. “I could have my people raise more of a ruckus…”
Riyan shook his head. “No, you can’t. They have dissipated and will be fleeing the authorities for some time. Now, you are alone. Alone, and powerless.”
Maiya found herself grinding her teeth despite everything. She’d forgotten how good the man was at getting on her nerves.
“Fine,” she said, dismissing her handmaidens. They hesitated, but she looked them in the eye and nodded. “I’ll be alright. I’ll signal if I need help.”
Riyan raised a brow at that, no doubt wondering exactly how she’d manage such a feat, but he didn’t need to know that Maiya was carrying a communications orb on her. An orb that relayed every word that would be exchanged between her and Riyan to handmaidens stationed at their camp outside the city.
Those words would then be transcribed. For posterity, of course. Definitely not for blackmail. Maiya preferred to call it insurance.
Maiya followed Riyan through a dark, empty hallway, then around a corner, which led to—of all things—a dead-end room with a basic bed, couch, and a few chairs.
“Where have you been all this time?” Maiya asked, figuring she’d make full use of her time with the man. Who knew how much of it she’d have?
“Not here,” was Riyan’s curt response, though whether he’d intended it as an answer to her question, or whether he was telling her that chatting here wasn’t a good idea, she didn’t know.
One of Riyan’s rebels knelt and pulled off the rug that covered the floor, revealing a wooden trapdoor embedded into the floor. The man bypassed the Magic Lock and opened the door.
“Down,” Riyan said.
Maiya peered into the dark hole and shrugged, lowering herself down. She carried with her a dozen orbs of C and B Grade, all of which were precharged. If Riyan tried to pull anything, she’d ensure there was nothing left of his little base.
Still, she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Even if she took Riyan out, against such numbers, there were no guarantees. Not to mention doing so would make the mission end in failure—let alone the tragic loss of life it’d bring.
Maiya could only pray that Riyan didn’t force her hand.