It’s worth the risk.
Charging Dance took over half a minute, causing his leg to tingle from the lack of blood, but it finally admitted him into the realm of shadows.
Sure enough, he saw several exits within the passage, which looked dark and empty. Perfect.
Reappearing inside the hidden hallway, he proceeded down its dark depths, relying on Prana Vision to guide him.
Soon, the tunnel turned into a spiral stairway that led down.
Down and down, Vir descended the narrow stairs. There wasn’t a single window or door, so he had no idea how far he’d traveled, but if he had to guess, this passage led all the way to the Commons.
It made sense if the princess regularly masqueraded as an urchin. And seeing how the passage led directly to her room, she’d likely had this addition custom-built. Vir couldn’t even imagine the cost of such an endeavor.
He finally reached the end of the stairs, which led out to another hall. The passage dead ended in a ceiling hatch.
It cracked open without a sound, its hinges well-oiled. Vir peeked out to see the wall of a narrow alley and the sounds and stench of a slum.
He left the hatch, which locked in place behind him. A one-way lock, huh? Looking back at it, he’d never know it led to a passage. Not unless he knew it was there.
Isn’t this a huge vulnerability if anyone ever found out?
This felt like the kind of thing that could cause the palace’s demise if Daha was ever attacked by an enemy.
Vir quickly changed out of his Sawai clothes, donning his commoner warrior outfit. From there, he set out.
He’d just stumbled upon a royal secret, and he knew just the right people who could help him take advantage of it.
With determined steps, he headed out.
In the palace’s audience chamber, late at night, two figures met. A bald figure with a handlebar mustache sat upon the gilded Hiranyan throne in his nightgown—King Rayid Hiranya. At the foot of the carpeted steps leading to the throne kneeled his knighted captain of the royal guard, cradling his helm under his armpit.
“My liege, someone has infiltrated the barrier,” said the captain. “The Prana Swarm, Anadi Chakai, has become active once again.”
“Oho?” replied the king. “Quite the feat to infiltrate its prison. I take it the poor fool is dead?”
“In all likelihood, yes. But…”
King Rayid frowned. “But?”
Sweat broke out on the captain of the guard’s brow. “Whoever they were disabled the barrier. It has gotten loose,” he whispered.
“Say again?”
“The Prana Swarm has escaped!” the captain of the guard shrieked, his panic mounting.
“That is impossible. Those barriers have been in place for over a thousand years!”
“I understand, my liege. However, the barriers have indeed been toppled.”
“Are you telling me that our superweapon from the Ashen Realm is freely gallivanting about our sewer system?”
“It appears to be roaming, yes. But as an Ash Beast, it cannot survive in our prana-deprived lands. If it strays too far from the Ash Gate, it will eventually die off.”
King Rayid spoke in a cold, even tone. “But not before killing every man, woman, child, and animal in this entire city!”
The captain of the guard said nothing.
Clutching his head, Rayid gazed at the carved ceiling, unfocused.
“We’re going to need the Altani. Summon them at once. And pray to Adinat this city is still standing by the time they arrive.”
79
A DAY IN THE LIFE OF MAIYA (PART ONE)
Maiya’s eyes fluttered open at the crack of dawn atop a bed that was more comfortable than it had any right to be. It was one of the few luxuries afforded to her, now that she’d been condemned to the Ash.
As a survivor of Riyan’s harsh tutelage, she thought there could be nothing worse. She was wrong.
The weeks since she’d arrived at Sonam had been the most grueling days of her life. And it all began with the handmaiden exam. The test had broken down into pure chaos when the dozen handmaiden candidates all dueled each other.
Even now, Maiya could scarcely believe what a ludicrous exam that was. Handmaidens battling each other, charring entire rooms—which had wisely been cleared of furniture—or freezing everything over. It was entirely in style for the battle-crazed Kin’jals, and apparently, Princess Ira herself had designed the test.
The very same princess that was supposed to be frail, sickly, and confined to her bed at all hours of the day. Docile and utterly reliant on her staff to keep her alive.
So much for that image.
Soon after the exam began, Maiya understood that there would be no way to succeed if she played it straight. Forget beating out the other competitors at bed making, tea preparation, plate setting, and etiquette—the others actively broke their competitors’ plates whenever someone tried.
The only way through that gauntlet was to eliminate the competition. And so she had.
The vast majority of the handmaidens had either Lesser Affinities or none at all, making them fodder for the multitude of C Grade Icicles and Wind Blades Maiya fired off. The issue wasn’t winning—that was easy—it was beating them in a way that didn’t kill or permanently maim them. Even if the rules hadn’t prohibited it, Maiya couldn’t live with herself if she had to lop her fellow candidates’ arms off to win. More often than not, she’d resorted to her Kalari arts, stunning or distracting her foes with her magic before closing to melee distance and knocking them out.
It had come down to her and just one other girl, who possessed a Greater Affinity for Lightning and knew how to use it. They’d been an especially poor match. Lightning orbs were nearly unavoidable owing to their ludicrous speed, and Maiya had nearly lost after underestimating her opponent’s Arc spells. But Lightning also had the shortest range of all the affinities. Maiya’s Ice Affinity had the second longest, so she’d been able to keep the girl at bay, but it’d never been enough to finish her.
In the end, they’d called a truce. May the best handmaiden win.
Yeah, right, Maiya thought. She’d known she would lose in a fair fight. But pressing the duel had been taxing for both of them. They’d flung so many spells at each other—leaving the courtyard of their battle a scorched and frozen wasteland—that they’d both begun to saturate with prana.
Maiya had completed her tasks as best she could, and she honestly felt like she did a decent job at most of them.
That was, until the time came for the etiquette exam.
One glance at her opponent told her she wouldn’t win. Even with the burn marks and cuts on her face, the girl carried herself with a grace that screamed Sawai ’risto. Both Tanya and Riyan had trained Maiya in the ways of etiquette, but Maiya grew up a village girl. Some habits died hard, and there would be no way she could compete.
So Maiya played dirty. She’d feigned the best etiquette she could, then, when the other girl was animatedly conversing with the proctor, Maiya snuck up from behind and took her to the ground, straddling over her shocked competitor in a ground grapple. After a brief struggle, she’d choked her opponent out, sending her into the land of the unconscious.
And that was how Maiya won. By default.
Fortunately… or perhaps not, given the torture her life had recently become, her superiors hadn’t thrown her out when she was terrible at the finer points of acting like a proper lady.