Before he knew it, the last few floors were behind him, and he was perched at the window of the room on the highest floor.
From here, he saw everything. The castle grounds, far below. The District of Internal Affairs. The Commons. All glowing bright amber with magical light. And in the distance, Daha’s great walls, keeping the desert at bay. Above it all, the unlit Vimana hung like a dark crown, decorating the city with its rich splendor. As Vir gazed at the scenery, he wondered. Wondered whether this was right. Whether he ought to be here, chasing down the royal priest instead of Mina. Who was the greater evil?
As much as he wanted to say the priest, he couldn’t. Mina was the one who’d put him into power. She was the real master behind the operation. Vir tried to justify his actions. Tried to convince himself he wasn’t here out of a personal vendetta.
He failed. Because he was.
The fact remained that the prana signature in the room beyond had caused the deaths of those Vir held so dear. Maybe Mina would replace this man with another. But at least Head Priest Harak would cause no more innocents to die.
Vir balanced on the window’s ledge to lace up his boots, then swung the window open and silently entered.
The wrinkled priest was not asleep. He sat at a circular table, gazing out through a window on the other side of the room. The old, skinny man looked half-dead.
Vir snuck up behind him—the man remained blissfully unaware. An Empowered twist of his head would break the man’s neck. He’d die, right then and there.
Vir should kill the man and be gone. It was the height of foolishness to do anything otherwise.
And yet…
“Hello, Harak,” Vir said from behind, his cold, steel needle pressed against the priest’s neck. “If you scream, you die. If you call for help, you die. If you make any sudden movement, you die. Understand? Nod slowly if you do.” He had no idea how his voice was so calm. Cold.
The priest nodded.
“You don’t know me, but I know you. I want some answers, and you will provide them.”
“W-will you let me live if I do?” Harak whispered.
Vir paused for a split second. “It depends. Now answer. Why do you hunt Ashborn?”
“A-Ashborn! They are a blight! A menace!” Harak hissed. “Demons by another name.”
“You fear them,” Vir whispered. “Why?”
“I am a pious man. The scriptures speak of demons ravaging our lands. This, you well know. But did you know? The ancient scriptures, the ones from just after the fall of the Gods. They tell us more. They speak of demon armies… led by Ashborn. They tell the story of the End of Realms. Of demons so strong, no human could possibly stand against them. Demons… led by a being capable of bringing about the apocalypse.”
The priest slowly turned his head. “Do you see now, child? Do you understand why I do what I do?”
Vir had no idea about any of this. Why would the scriptures say that about him? Yes, he had some powers he couldn’t understand. Janak himself said he was different. But realm ending powers? It was so farfetched. It had to be a lie. Besides, Janak was a god, and he hadn’t wanted Vir dead. Even if the scriptures came from the gods, words spoken from Janak’s own mouth carried far more weight.
No, this priest was spinning lies to deceive him.
“Tell me, head priest. Is your cause worth the lives of innocents?”
“What do you mean?”
“Brij village. You ordered a knight corps there. They murdered the village priest and his wife. They… butchered an innocent lumberjack. How do you plead to these crimes?”
“Brij? Brij… The Ashborn! You! You’re the Ashborn! Come to seek revenge!”
“Three lives ended that day,” Vir replied, his voice barely a whisper. “Three noble, innocent people who never deserved death. All because of you.”
Harak froze in his chair as the needle pressed harder against his skin.
“Have you heard of karma, Harak? Well, consider this karmic justice.”
Just then, hard knocking rapped upon the door to Harak’s residence.
“Your eminence? We’ve just been informed of an attempted assassination on Princess Mina. Checking in to ensure all is well. May we enter?”
“Tell them you’re fine. Tell them not to enter,” Vir whispered.
“All is well,” Harak replied. “No worse than an Acira in the Voidlands.” Silence hung on the other side of the door before the guard replied.
“In the Voidlands, your eminence? Understood.” Silence may have descended, but Vir didn’t fail to notice the sound of a key being inserted into the keyhole. Or the slow turning of the door lever.
“Nice try, Harak.”
“What do you—!”
It was all he managed before the needle mercilessly plunged into his neck.
Royal Priest Harak would torment Hiranya no longer.
90
PRINCESS ASSASSIN (PART THREE)
Vir bolted for the window. He’d barely made it out onto the ledge when the panicked shouts of Harak’s personal guard swept over him.
Stealth was no longer a priority. He jumped off the ten-story building and plummeted to the castle grounds far below. Light Step saved him from broken bones, but the impact still hit him hard. Ash prana was becoming increasingly scarce, and Light Step relied on instant activation to soften his fall.
Vir retrieved his rucksack and pressed himself against the temple wall. His fall had gone unnoticed, but with as many guards as there were, it was only a matter of time until they found him.
His options were few. Forget assassinating Mina, returning to the princess’ secret passage was an impossibility. Knights thronged the palace halls, and without Dance, he had no way of entering her guarded room.
The temple lay close to the walls that divided the castle grounds from the District of Internal Affairs. His best bet would be to make himself scarce in the Sawai district.
The only question—how? Over a dozen guards secured the gate, and while Vir’s acting skills had served him well so far, the castle was on high alert. They’d no doubt question him, and if he failed to answer properly… that would be the end. Without his katars, chakrams, and Dance, he stood no chance.
Which left scaling the walls.
Easier said than done without Dance of the Shadow Demon. The prana in this entire area had been sucked dry, forcing him to rely on old-fashioned climbing.
Taking a deep breath, Vir analyzed the rampart guard patrols. There was hardly a gap now, with so many of them cloistered up there.
Every instinct screamed at him to move. To run from the guards that were no doubt pursuing him. But he overrode those fears. To climb at the wrong time meant he’d be detected right away.
He found his chance a minute later. A break in the guard patrols atop the ramparts. Slight, but enough.
Vir donned his servant’s robe and strode to the walls—the least suspicious people always acted like they belonged there.
Upon reaching the base of the wall, he stowed the robe and leveraged Prana Vision to monitor the rampart guards.
Now!
Vir scrambled up the wall. Thirty paces didn’t seem all that high until one had to scale it. Luckily, he had climbed things all his life, and the uneven stones provided ample handholds.
He’d timed it perfectly—when he arrived at the top of the wall, he had it to himself. The nearest guard was thirty paces away.
Stealth was impossible. The moment he cleared the rampart, the guard noticed. And by then, it was too late. Vir sprinted across the rampart and threw himself into the air.