He won’t, she assured herself. Not when the carrot is this juicy.
The long ladder led down two floors, and at the bottom, Maiya found a bustling hive of activity.
They were unquestionably within the sewers, and yet there was none of the stink that plagued such places.
As Riyan led her down repurposed sewer ways, she found people, bunks, desks, and all the accouterments of daily life. Large rooms that once held sluice gates had been cleaned and converted into mess halls, and sewage holding rooms were now pristine barracks.
“We did a little remodeling,” Riyan said, noticing Maiya eyeing their surroundings. “The sewers were the only place I could realistically fit so many without attracting attention.”
“It couldn’t have been easy,” Maiya said. She didn’t even want to guess how much work it would’ve taken to clean and sanitize such a place, let alone bring in enough Magic Lamp orbs to light the place.
“It certainly wasn’t,” Riyan chuckled. “And the cleanup was the easier part. Diverting the sewer flow in a way that didn’t impact the city was an engineering feat and a half.”
“I’ll say…”
Maiya might’ve been talking half out of a duty to break the ice, but she wasn’t sure there was much to be broken. She couldn’t believe how easily they were able to converse. As if it’d only been yesterday that they’d seen each other, when in reality, it had been well over a year.
The powerfully built man led her through another hall, and into a chamber that was markedly different from the rest.
The lavish rugs that covered the floor, the opulent sofas, mahogany dining table, and dressers, all spoke to a level of refinement that Maiya expected out of Riyan.
Just that it was all horribly out of place in a room that used to be part of the sewer system. If Maiya wasn’t mistaken, there was even a slight fragrance that filled the air. It was quite pleasant on the nose.
“Please, sit,” Riyan said, far more politely than Maiya expected. Was this a trap? Or was he genuinely happy?
An attendant pulled her chair from the dining table, and Maiya obliged, sitting with every ounce of the etiquette that the head handmaiden had drilled into her.
Riyan took a seat opposite her and clasped his hands. “I admit, I did not think I would see you again.”
Maiya shrugged. “Fate plays some interesting tricks sometimes.”
“That it does,” Riyan said with a nod.
The conversation faltered, and Maiya’s eyes wandered to the mask that ran down the left side of Riyan’s face.
“Riyan… What happened on that night?”
Though it was partially hidden by his mask, she could tell he’d raised a brow. “I am surprised you know.”
“Really?” she asked. “You were the one who sent me to spy on the Kin’jal, after all.”
Riyan snorted. “I never expected you to join them.”
“I didn’t,” Maiya said reflexively. So Tanya had informed him. But if so, why would he admit her here? Riyan hated Kin’jal.
A chill crept up her spine.
“You didn’t?” Riyan asked, mockingly.
“Well, I did, but I oppose Andros.”
That got Riyan’s attention. He appraised her in silence for a long moment.
“Collateral from my fight with the monster that calls herself Mina Hiranya,” Riyan said, slowly removing his mask.
Maiya had to fight every instinct she had not to gasp.
The left side of Riyan’s face was just… gone. Not merely deformed. Missing entirely. Like something had cut it away. Or eaten it.
“What…” Maiya didn’t have the heart to continue.
“A pet Prana Swarm the princess sought to keep hidden from her father. And everyone else. When I sent Vir, I had accounted for the Artifact that granted her invulnerability. I admit, I had not accounted for this weapon.”
The implications of this shocked Maiya’s entire world.
“You sent Vir to fight her… knowing she had an Artifact from the Age of Gods!” Maiya couldn’t help it. She felt her blood getting hotter and hotter by the moment. “A suicide mission. You meant for Vir to die fighting her, knowing he had no chance of winning.”
“Wrong,” Riyan said, crossing his arms. “I sent him to fight her, knowing he had no chance of winning.”
“Little difference, don’t you think? Especially with a Prana Swarm at her command, of all things.”
“I never intended to have him fight alone, Maiya,” Riyan said, leaning forward. “The boy was to be bait—someone to keep the princess and her bodyguard distracted while I came in for the kill. I had a way to defeat her Artifact.”
Maiya ground her teeth. “I suppose that’s how you crippled her.”
The big man leaned back in his chair. “Indeed.”
“Will you continue to pursue her?”
“No,” Riyan said with a shake of his head. “Her fate is worse than death. Stripped of all power, her mind has broken. She will live out the rest of her days a husk of the monster she once was.”
He spoke his words with something Maiya hadn’t expected, but probably should have. Pride.
Maiya had always known of Riyan’s brutality, but seeing the way he talked… He truly was the most dangerous type of person to make enemies of. He was the type that would stew for years—even decades—plotting and planning.
“Why are you here, Maiya?” Riyan asked, finally coming to the point. “And what reason do I have for not sending your head back to Sonam in a box?”
Maiya squelched the horror that was about to rear itself and leveled her gaze at Riyan.
“Because that would only make the man you hate happy.”
“Explain.”
“I’m not working with Andros, Riyan. I’m working with Princess Ira.”
“The very princess you were intended to spy on.”
“Yes,” Maiya said, not backing down an inch. “Because what she wants and what you want are the same, and if you got over your immense ego and saw things clearly, you’d understand that as well.”
“Kin’jals are all the same!” Riyan roared. “Battle hungry, backstabbing warmongers. It is in their blood.”
“If you knew a thing about Ira, you’d know how horribly wrong you are. For example, can you tell me what Ira plans to do, should she ascend to the throne?”
“She intends to launch a coup against her father?” Riyan asked, taken aback.
“Your intelligence fails you, Riyan,” Maiya said, acting as if such a thing ought to be well known. It wasn’t, of course, but it allowed Maiya an opportunity to gain the initiative in the conversation.
“What of it? She’ll simply take up her father’s mantle and invade Hiranya. Better the evil we know.”
“Wholistic cultural reform,” Maiya said.
“What do you mean?”
“She hates what the country has become. The reputation it’s gained. She wants to turn Kin’jal away from expansionism, starting at the very foundation. Instead of extolling combat, she’ll have school teachers prioritize the arts, engineering, and trade. Instead of combat tournaments, she’ll host merchant fairs.”
Riyan snorted. “The princess is more delusional than I thought. This will never happen.”
“It’ll never happen if no one tries,” Maiya said. “And her success hardly matters to you, right? To get the Balarian Guard away from Sonam, she intends to precipitate two uprisings. One in Sai, which, thanks to you, is already well on its way. And another in Hiranya.”
“You mean to have Andros invade Hiranya?” Riyan replied, instantly catching onto the plan. “And you thought for an instant I would go along with this?”
“No, Riyan,” Maiya said with a sigh. “Nobody wants the loss of life that would cause, I assure you. By drawing out Kin’jal’s army to two fronts, Andros leaves Sonam exposed.”
“And that is when your princess will strike.”
“Yes. So, you tell me. What will happen when she does?”