The Witch of Aggodar Ch. 11

The lower level of the palace was eerily quiet as Maeve crept along its dark corridors, clutching her stolen dagger tightly in her hand. She had tossed her heels aside almost as soon as she had escaped her cell and moved like a ghost between the shadows, her eyes and ears alert for any approaching guards.

Despite everything that had happened over the past few hours, she felt strangely calm. Now that she was free of her cell, Shay was her only priority. She needed to find the witch and make sure that she was safe, and even though she wasn't entirely sure how she would do that yet, it gave her something to focus her mind.

She heard voices approaching from one of the corridors ahead and shrank back into a recess between two large columns, the polished stone cool against her bare skin. Finding some clothes was also probably a good idea, she thought. She couldn't expect to face Katya and her men in nothing but a suspender belt and pair of torn stockings.

The guards passed by her hiding spot without noticing her, and based on their cheerful tone and the snort of laughter that one of them let out, she assumed that her escape remained unnoticed. She was glad that they weren't looking for her, not only because it made her task easier, but also because she didn't know who amongst them were still loyal to the Sheik and who had thrown their lot in with the traitorous Princess.

She waited until the guards' footsteps had faded before continuing along the maze of corridors at a swift pace, guiding herself on instinct alone. She tried to stick to what she thought must be the perimeter of the palace walls in the hopes of finding a way out to the gardens and eventually, she came across a flight of stairs guarded by a solitary soldier leaning restlessly upon the shaft of his leaf shaped spear. She chewed her tongue thoughtfully as she watched him from around a corner before sliding her stolen dagger into the top of her right stocking where she could easily reach it if necessary and sprinting towards him. The guard barely had to time to react as she planted one foot against the narrow walls followed by the other and launched herself into the air towards him. She wrapped her legs around his neck, gripping his head between her thighs and squeezing with all her strength as she batted the spear from his hands. She heard his muffled cry and felt his breath and the hairs of his beard brush against her pussy and thought that there were worse ways to go as his legs buckled beneath him and they both tumbled to the floor. She waited until his hands fell limply to his sides before unwrapping her legs from around his throat and dragging his unconscious body behind another pair of pillars. She used his belt to bind his hands behind his back and his crimson sash as a gag before she retrieved his spear and stole swiftly up the stairs.

She emerged on the eastern side of the palace gardens, the cloudless sky above her head dotted with stars. The full moon shone brightly and looked almost close enough to touch and she paused for a moment to breath deeply of the fresh air. It took her several moment to orientate herself against the rear of the palace. She could see the balcony of Shay's suite, but judging from the guards standing against the railings, that seemed like the last place she should be heading towards. Now that Katya had declared them traitors, it was unlikely that Shay was anywhere near the palace. The logical thing to do would be to slip away into the city and start her search there, but Maeve would be on her own in a city that she did not know with no money and nowhere to stay. She needed someone who she could trust, and Maeve could think of only one other person who she could possibly ask for help at that moment.

The gardens provided her with plenty of shelter as she skirted the edge of the palace, approaching the low compound to the rear of the east wing without anyone spotting her. She wasn't sure what the time was but figured it could not be too late given the number of lights that shone from the palace windows. By contrast, the compound was dark and still as she crept up onto the small veranda, spear in hand, and pushed silently through the sheer curtains that stirred in the evening breeze to the study beyond. The room was silent but for the sound of the small fountain coming from the open courtyard terrace in the centre of the compound. She moved slowly past the neatly arranged bookshelves and plush velvet chairs before she eased open the carved wooden door that lead out to the covered walkway that surrounded the courtyard and peered into the shadows.

"Mhati?" she called out as loudly as she dared as she crept across the black and white tiled floor. "Mhati?"

The sound of movement caused her to turn sharply and raise her spear but it was only one of the Mutes, his gold painted skin gleaming in the silvery light of the moon. He flinched away at the sight of Maeve's weapon and she immediately lowered the spear to face the ground.

"It's alright!" she said, taking a step towards the man as he shrank back behind one of the arches that surrounded the courtyard. "I'm not going to hurt you. I..."

Her voice trailed off as she saw the body. It was another Mute, her throat cut from ear to ear. Dark red blood stained her neck and chest and pooled on the floor around her lifeless body and as Maeve looked closer, she saw the bodies of more Mutes slumped against the walls or the courtyard.

"What happened here?" she breathed in horror.

The Mute peered out at her from behind the archway, his eyes wide. Tears rolled down his face and she could see now that he was shaking with fear. Whatever had happened, she knew the man was lucky to still be alive.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, offering her hand to the man as he shuffled into the light.

She saw his eyes suddenly dart towards something behind her and she spun around as she heard a door open and slam shut on the other side of the courtyard.

"Looks like we missed a few," growled the guard as he strode towards her, the moonlight reflecting off the curved scimitar in his hands. A blood red sash across his chest and a matching plume atop his onion shaped helmet marked him as a captain. He eyed Maeve hungrily, his gaze lingering on her breasts as he licked his lips. "What are you doing here?"

Maeve grasped her spear tightly in her hands. "Did you do this?" she hissed, ignoring his question.

The captain's smirk was all the confirmation he gave. He was accompanied by two other guards, a man and woman who were both armed with swords stained red with fresh blood.

"Where is Mhati?" Maeve demanded. "What have you done with her?"

A look of confusion flickered across the guards' faces before they burst out laughing. The sound sent a chill down Maeve's spine and caused her chest to tighten with anger and fear. She didn't know what to make of their reaction, but she knew she was running out of time.

She was not used to fighting with a spear, but the stolen weapon was a similar weight to her twin swords and the leather bound shaft felt comfortable in her hands. The guards were young and their captain seemed over confident and just as eager to impress his charges as they were to show off to him. She doubted it had taken much for Katya to sway any of them to her cause and knew that she would not lose any sleep over their deaths.

Before the guards knew what was happening, Maeve lunged towards them. Her spear struck like a viper, piercing the male guard's chest and killing him before he had even hit the floor. The captain's laughter turned to a snarl as he swung at her, but she danced away and used the shaft of her spear to trip him and send him sprawling to the floor in the path of the female guard. The woman vaulted over her superior, closing the distance between herself and Maeve before she was able to bring her spear to bear. Maeve dove out of the path of her sword and felt for the dagger that she had stashed in her stockings. The blade flashed out as she rolled past the woman and she heard her screech in pain as she lashed out with the short blade and severed the tendons of her left foot. Maeve was on her feet in an instant, spear and dagger in hand as the captain charged at her. She ducked past him and hurled the dagger into the howling woman's chest before spinning around and driving her spear into the captain's back, their joint momentum causing him to pitch forward into the fountain with a loud splash.

Maeve stood in the centre of the courtyard, her shoulders rising and falling steadily as she caught her breath. The fight had barely lasted ten seconds and yet all three guards lay dead on the floor. She closed her eyes, letting the adrenaline and anger that had guided her fade from her system, before searching the shadows for the Mute and finding him cowering behind a statue of two lovers embracing one another.

"You can come out now," she said gently. "They won't hurt you now. Please, I need your help."

The Mute peered at her with wide eyes from behind the statue before tentatively taking her hand. She smiled as she helped him to stand and led him away from the bodies into Mhati's study, closing the door behind them as if that could somehow shut out the memories of what he had been through.

"Here," she said as she sat him down on one of the soft velvet chairs in front of the fireplace. "Let me get us some drinks."

She had spotted the small bar cabinet behind Mhati's desk when she had entered the study and was unsurprised to find it well stocked with various bottles of dark liqueur and exotic spirits. She poured them each a generous thimble of spiced rum and handed the glass to the Mute who stared at her as if it was the first time that anyone had ever done anything for him.

"Do you remember your name?" she asked kindly as she sat down in the chair beside him and pulled a soft cotton throw over her shoulders in an effort to cover her naked body.

He frowned before nodding slowly and making a circle with his empty hand.

"Oh?" Maeve said, watching as he then pointed to himself. "Oh-you?" she said before changing her mind to "Ohmi?" when he shook his head. "Ohmi," she repeated. He grinned at her and she wondered how long it had been since anyone had called him by his actual name.

"My name is Maeve," she continued. "Ohmi, I need your help. I need to find Mhati. Do you know where the guards took her?"

He looked nervously at her before shaking his head.

"Do you know why the guards were here? Were they looking for her?"

Again, Ohmi shook his head.

Maeve sighed, downing what was left of her drink as she tried to formulate a plan. Shay was still her priority, but she could not abandon Mhati either if Katya had decided that she was part of their attempt to stop her plans.

Ohmi tugged sheepishly on her throw, his eyes wide and fearful. He pointed to Maeve and then up towards the ceiling before miming cheering.

"I'm sorry," she said uncertainly. "I don't understand."

He frowned before pointing to the thin metal collar around her neck and again pretending to cheer.

Maeve brushed the cool metal with her fingertips. "The games?" she said in sudden understanding. "What about them?"

Ohmi pointed to Mhati's desk and then up at the ceiling again.

"Mhati is at the games?" Maeve said slowly, her brow furrowing in confusion as he nodded emphatically. She did not understand. She had assumed the games had been postponed whilst the guards searched for Shay, and if they hadn't then why was Mhati still attending them if Katya had sent guards to kill her servants?

"Is the Princess with her?" she asked.

He flinched fearfully and drained his glass before offering her the tiniest nod of his head.

Maeve considered what Katya had said to her in the dungeon and suddenly everything fell into place with a terrifying clarity. The Princess needed one more sacrifice to command the lamp and the Djinn within and she had told her that that sacrifice would take place tonight. Mhati was that sacrifice. With her death, Katya's plan would be complete and Arridia would be plunged into darkness.

She leapt to her feet, the throw falling to the floor behind her. "I have to go!" she exclaimed. "I've got to stop her!"

Ohmi held up his hands as he scrambled to his feet. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes and it seemed to her that he was begging her not to go.

"I can't leave her, Ohmi," Maeve said. She looked at him, wondering what his life had been like and what he had done to end up like this. "You should go too," she said. "The gardens are practically empty at the moment. Get out of here. Get as far away from the city as you can!"

He looked longingly at the doorway leading out to the garden before turning fearfully to face her and shaking his head.

"Wait here," she said, disappearing out into the courtyard before returning with a dagger that she had plucked from one of the dead guards. She pressed the hilt into Ohmi's hand and closed his fingers around the smooth leather grip. "You can do it, Ohmi," she said. "You can be free. You just have to be brave."

His lower lip trembled as he looked into her eyes and then he suddenly threw his arms about her neck and began to weep. She held him tightly until he stopped crying, and stepped back from her, drying his eyes on the backs of his hands. He turned to face the doorway, and though it could have been her imagination, Maeve thought he seemed to suddenly stand a little straighter and there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Stick to the walls," she said as he stared nervously at the doorway. "Once you're beyond the palace walls, don't stop until you are sure no one is following you."

He turned to her and placed both hands over his heart and bowed deeply. She squeezed his arm and smiled.

"Good luck," she whispered.

She watched, holding her breath, as he slipped between the curtains and disappeared into the cool night air. She counted backwards from ten and when no cries of alarm were sounded, she took it as a sign that Ohmi had successfully managed to navigate a path through the gardens and returned to the courtyard to retrieve her weapons and find herself some clothes. The guards' uniforms were too bloodied for her to salvage anything more than their belts from and although she contemplated raiding Mhati's wardrobe, she didn't think that the older woman would have anything that would fit her more generously proportioned breasts and hips. She crossed the courtyard to the main foyer of the compound where Mhati had helped her prepare for the opening ceremony of the games just a few short days ago. She took a moment to wash her face and hands in the enormous bath tub that was sunk into the floor of the chamber before rummaging through the racks of sheer skirts and revealing underwear for something marginally suitable to wear, eventually finding a black leather bodysuit in her size. The bodysuit sat high on her hips and the plunging neckline revealed plenty of her cleavage but it was better than nothing. She pulled on a pair of fingerless gloves that ended just below her elbows and a pair of strappy black sandals that came up to her knees. She then took the daggers that she had looted from the dead guards and used their belts to strap the blades to each of her thighs where they would be within easy reach. It wasn't much of a suit of armour, she thought, but she was at least partially covered up now.

She made her way back into the courtyard, pausing beside the fountain which had turned red with the dead captain's blood. She considered taking his scimitar as a replacement for the spear that was still buried in his back, but the blade seemed heavy and unwieldy and she knew the daggers that she had taken were more suited to her fighting style. She turned her back on the dead man, feeling nothing for him or the other guards that she had killed, and swiftly scaled one of the columns that supported the surrounding walkway and hauled herself up onto the roof of Mhati's compound. The twinkling lights of the Golden City drew her gaze as she crouched low on the terracotta roof tiles. Shay was out there somewhere, she could feel it in her heart. They would see each other again and they would stop Katya together, but first she had to save Mhati before it was too late.

She paused for a moment to survey the rooftop ahead of her. The palace was long and low but for the central basilica which was capped with a huge, onion-shaped gold dome. Orange light bled from windows situated about third floor of the basilica and she could make out the silhouettes of men and women dressed in fine clothing moving about the balconies of the upper floor. With little else to go on, she made her way swiftly across the palace roof towards the high, white walls of the basilica that loomed over her. A trailing vine of purple ivy made for a suitable support and with it she was able to haul herself up to the basilica's second floor where she slipped silently through an open window into a dark, unoccupied reception room. She crept across the cool, stone floor and eased open the carved wooden door to peer into the adjoining hallway before darting out into the corridor once she was sure that the coast was clear. Torches contained within perforated copper spheres illuminated her passage as she hurried stealthily along the opulent corridors in search of a way up to the next floor before the sound of an approaching group of people caused her to dart into a nearby bedroom opposite a giant tapestry depicting some past military conquest. A quick glance around the room assured her that she was alone and she closed the door softly behind her and pressed her ear to the wood as she waited for the group to pass.

"How could you not see this coming?" someone hissed angrily as they strode down the corridor towards her.

"I do not know her every move!" a familiar voice shot back. "She is not my responsibility!"

"That much is clear," growled a third voice.

"What does Junda really think?" demanded the first speaker. "He is your uncle. You must know!"

The group seemed to have stopped directly outside the room in which Maeve was hiding and she hissed through her teeth as she suddenly realised who the voice that had sounded so familiar belonged to.

"The Sheik keeps his own council," Prince Rhan said bitterly. "He never trusted me before and he has even less reason to trust me now Katya has shown her hand."

"You doubt your sister's claim about the witch?"

Maeve pressed her ear against the door, holding her breath as Rhan considered his answer.

"I do not doubt that the witch has her own agenda for being here," the Prince said carefully. "Do I think that she would attempt to overthrown my uncle? Of that I am less sure."

The Prince's answer surprised Maeve. She had always assumed that Rhan and Katya were working together to bring down their uncle but he seemed just as confused as the rest of the people behind the door.

"If what you are suggesting is true," began a new, nervous sounding voice, "then it sounds as though it is your sister who is attempting a coup."

The men were silent for several long moments before someone asked, "What do we do? Should we be choosing sides?"

Rhan snorted dryly. "Knowing my sister, sides will not matter," he hissed. "She has Junda trapped in a web of her own making. The Sheik cannot ignore the evidence that she has presented without looking weak and he cannot move against her without alienating her followers. The best thing any of us can do is stay out of her way, as I am trying to do now."

Maeve jumped as the handle of the door began to turn. She shrank backwards into the bedroom, only now fully taking in the panels of dark wood that covered the walls and the bookshelves that groaned beneath the weight of ancient books bound in worn leather jackets. The bedroom was vast, at least twice the size of the suite that she and Shay had been staying in and as she looked around at the dark colours, heavy plum velvet curtains and distinctly arcane looking patterns carved into the wooden panels that covered the walls, she realised that the chamber belonged to Rhan himself.

She darted across the floor, avoiding tripping on the heavy, woven rugs that were strewn over the floor. The door swung open fractionally, a shaft of warm light threatening to expose her, but the Prince was still facing his entourage and she had just enough time to dive beneath the huge wooden bed that sat within an arched alcove at the far end of the room before the Prince stepped into his chamber and closed the door firmly behind him.

Maeve allowed herself a moment to catch her breath before crawling silently towards the front of the bed where she could see the Prince. He waved his hand out in front of him, half a dozen lanterns crackling to life with magical flames and that was when Maeve realised that the Prince was not alone. A woman with olive coloured skin stood a few paces behind the Prince. She was naked apart from a pair of black stockings that rose to just above her knees. Her arms were bound behind her back, a metal bar gag filled her mouth and a black satin blindfold covered her eyes. Maeve watched as Rhan tugged on the leash attached to the woman's collar, dragging her across the room to a large wing chair into which he collapsed before pulling the girl facedown across his lap.

"I know this has all been very confusing," the Prince cooed as he began to gently massage the woman's ass. "But you don't have to worry anymore. You belong to me now, and I promise I will take good care of you."

The woman made a sound like a stifled sob. There was something familiar about her but Maeve could not work out who she was.

"Enough of that!" Rhan snapped, slapping her ass with a loud crack that made her squeal behind her gag. His hand moved slowly across her ass, his fingers disappearing between her legs. Maeve could see the smile spread across his hawk-like face and felt her skin crawl just looking at him.

"You were never going to win, you know," the Prince said coldly. "Really, this is the best outcome for you. I treat my slaves very, very well."

Maeve had heard enough. The Prince might not have had anything to do with Katya's plot but she could not leave that poor woman trapped with him. She reached for one of her blades and rolled silently out from beneath Rhan's bed. The Prince was so enthralled by the girl over his knee that he did not notice her sneak around the edge of the room, the dark walls, heavy curtains and irregular lighting offering her plenty of shadows to conceal herself within. She crept towards the wing chair from behind, any sound of her approach masked by the muffled cried of the gaged slave, and when she was close enough, she reached around and pressed the tip of her dagger against Rhan's throat.

"Scream and you're dead," she hissed, watching the Prince's face drain of what little colour it had. "Take your hands off her."

Rhan held up his hands and Maeve slowly moved around the side of the chair to help the girl to her feet.

"You!" the Prince hissed, anger and genuine surprise flashing across his narrow face. "Katya told me you were locked up!"

"I broke free," Maeve growled still holding the dagger to Rhan's throat as she pulled the blindfold and gag from the woman's face.

"Maeve!" Clara gasped as she blinked in the light.

The shock of seeing Clara must have shown on Maeve's face as the Prince suddenly batted Maeve's dagger aside and launched himself at her. Flames engulfed the Prince's right hand as he knocked her to the floor, her dagger skittering away across the stone, and she hissed painfully as he grasped her arm in an attempt to pin her beneath his weight, the flames burning through her glove to scald her skin. She fumbled for the second dagger strapped to her thigh and snarled through the pain of her burning arm as she drove the blade into his thigh. Rhan shrieked at the sight of the blade protruding from his leg, his grip loosening long enough for her to yank her arm free and punch him squarely in the throat, silencing his cry and sending him toppling over onto the floor beside her. She rolled onto her size, panting through her teeth as she struck him again, breaking his nose and laying the Prince out cold.

Maeve stood up slowly, gritting her teeth and nursing her left forearm where's Rhan's handprint was burned into her flesh.

"Maeve," Clara gasped. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Maeve lied. "Here, let me help you."

She untied Clara who in turn helped her into the wing chair and began to examine the burn on your arm. "We need to treat this," she said. "Wait here."

Maeve didn't argue as Clara began to scour the room for water and clean towels. She picked up Maeve's discarded dagger and carefully cut away what remained of her left glove before placing her arm into a basin of water that she had retrieved from Rhan's nightstand. Maeve hissed as the cool water caused her blistered skin to burn once again but after several moments the pain eventually began to fade.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Clara looked up at her and smiled sadly. There were streaks of mascara running down her cheeks and her eyes were red and puffy as if she had been crying recently. "I should be thanking you," she said. "If you hadn't been here then..." she trailed off as she looked down at the Prince's unconscious body.

"We should tie him up," Maeve said, starting to get up from the chair before Clara gently pushed her back.

"I'll do it," she said. "You rest."

Maeve watched as Clara picked up the ropes and gag that she had been bound with just a moment ago and began to hogtie the Prince. She was surprisingly deft with the knots and Maeve could imagine the satisfaction she felt in getting some sort of revenge against Rhan for what he had done to her.

"What happened to you, Clara?" Maeve said quietly. "Why are you here?"

Clara pursed her lips as she worked and Maeve thought she saw fresh tears well within her eyes. "After they took you away," she began, her voice wobbling slightly. "Everything went mad. There were rumours that you had tried to poison the Sheik, and that Lady Shay was planning to raise an army of Djinn to take over the city. We were confined to our rooms whilst the guards searched the palace for Shay. We thought they were only after you, but when the court was recalled Katya had a list of names of people who had sided with you both and the evidence to back it up."

"What evidence?" Maeve hissed.

"Witnesses," she said. "People who said they had seen you and Shay meeting with the other traitors."

"We never..."

"I know," Clara said gently. "No one really believed what they were hearing but they had no choice. Katya had all the proof that she needed."

"She's cleaning house," Maeve said bitterly. "She's getting rid of everyone who might stand in her way." She looked at Clara and frowned. "Where is Taroh?" she asked.

Tears rolled slowly down Clara's cheeks as she shook her head. "They took him," she whispered. "They said that he was a traitor and dragged him away with the others. I... I haven't seen him since."

Maeve reached out and squeezed Clara's hand. She could not think what reason Katya would have for wanting to get rid of Taroh, but then she remembered that they were only at the games because the Princess had invited them.

"Clara," she said slowly. "Has anyone in Taroh's family ever had any contact with a Djinn?"

She looked at Maeve and frowned. "He... He used to tell me that his mother got lost in the desert as a small girl. She wandered the sands for days before making her way back to her village. She told her parents that the 'blue man' had guided her home... But no one ever saw anything. Why do you ask?"

"Because Katya is trying to summon a Djinn," she said, her mouth suddenly dry. "And I think Taroh may be the final sacrifice that she needs."

Clara's face turned pale as she looked at Maeve. "What... What do you mean?"

Maeve was already on her feet. The pain in her arm had reduced to a dull ache and she gritted her teeth through it as she bent down to retrieve her daggers. "We saw the Princess murder someone who also had a connection to a Djinn. She has a lamp, but Shay believes she is trying to corrupt the Djinn before she releases it."

"That's not possible..." Clara whispered.

"I'm only telling you what I know," Maeve replied. "We have to stop her. Do you know where she is?"

"The games," Clara breathed. "The next round is due to start any moment now. I heard the Prince say it would be held on the observation deck."

"Do you know the way?"

Clara nodded. "I can take you there," she said. "But... Someone will see you."

She was right, of course. Her peppermint hair alone was enough to distinguish her even if she wasn't one of the most recognisable people in the city at that moment. But what choice did she have? She had to stop Katya before it was too late.

"I'll fight my way there if I have to," she said.

Clara shook her head. "No," she said. "I have a better idea..."

A short while later they were striding purposefully away from the Prince's chamber towards the observation deck. They had left Rhan bound and gagged and stuffed inside a wardrobe. Maeve had donned one of the Prince's cloaks, his small stature not dissimilar to her own, and had pulled the cowl up over her head to hide her distinctive hair and elven ears. Clara, meanwhile walked beside her, her hands secured by a pair of leather cuffs that they had found in the Prince's room that Maeve had left loose enough for her to wiggle out of if the need arose, and a ball gag that again she could easily spit out if required. Maeve held Clara's leash tightly in one hand, the other pinning the folds of her cloak together to hide the daggers strapped to her thighs. To anyone watching, they would just be another Master and her slave on their way to attend the next round the games, they just had to hope that no one looked too closely at them.

Clara led them up to the highest level of the palace where the corridors suddenly became much busier. Servants were hurrying about carrying trays of empty plates and fresh bottles of sparkling wine. There were guards stationed at every door and Maeve could feel the tension in the air and beneath the false smiles worn by the other guests that they passed. Her fingers itched beside the hilts of her daggers but no one seemed to pay them more than a cursory glance as they made their way towards the observation deck at the rear of the upper floor and those that did seemed more interested in Clara's bare tits or ass than who they might actually be.

The observation deck was a large, semi-circular room open at one side to provide a spectacular view of the night sky and the city below. The room sat directly beneath the palace's onion shaped dome and the burnished gold ceiling reflected the lights that lit the room in such a way that the ceiling seemed to glow like the sun itself. Steps that stretched from one side of the room to the other led down to the main floor which was crafted from black marble polished to a high sheen and studded with silver flecks to imitate stars. The deck was already fairly full as they pushed their way into the gathered crowd of nobles and merchants who had been invited to watch the games. Maeve could see her fellow contestants and their trainers standing beside the carved wooden guardrails and she counted six guards positioned around the room and new that they had passed another dozen in the corridors close by. She didn't know for certain that they were loyal to Katya, but she doubted the Princess had left anything up to chance.

She tapped Clara's shoulder and they cut their way through the crowd to stand closer to the edge of the deck. She peered over the wooden railings, looking down past the large teal and white banner that hung from the side of the basilica to the ground very, very far beneath them.

A rippled of conversation passed through the crowd and she craned her neck to watch as Sheik Junda marched into the room accompanied by four of his personal guards and, to Maeve's relief, Mhati. The Sheik looked flustered. His usual kind smile was gone and he barely acknowledged any of his guests as he strode to the plush throne that had been set up for him and took his seat with a sullen expression. Mhati strode along behind him, her expression neutral and her hands clasped in front of her. She seemed fine to Maeve, though it was hard to tell through the dense crowd. As she watched Mhati's head suddenly turned in her direction and their eyes locked for a moment before she looked away. Had she seen her? Maeve couldn't be sure but before she could dwell too long on that thought, the Princess suddenly floated into the room. She was smiling broadly beneath her hawkish nose and unlike her uncle, she did stop to speak with people and seemed to revel in the attention that was piled upon her. She passed Junda without a word and took her place in the centre of the room, turning to throw out her arms as if embracing the whole crowd.

"Friends," she called, her voice like poisoned honey. "It has been a difficult day for all of us. We have been betrayed by our own. People whom we loved and trusted."

Several people nodded their head emphatically but it seemed to Maeve that most kept quiet at this point and were doing their best to avoid the Princess' gaze.

"We have all been wounded by this treachery, my dear uncle more so than most I daresay. He has asked me to lead the celebrations tonight as he recovers, and I shall gladly do my best to restore some cheer to what should be a time of great celebration!"

Katya clicked her fingers and two more guards marched in dragging a naked man between them. Maeve heard Clara's stifled gasp and knew even before she saw him that it was Taroh who the guards were dragging along. They threw him to the floor at the Princess' feet and Maeve grimaced to see the bruises and welts that covered his body. His hands were chained behind his back and his ankled were shackled together. His lip had swollen to twice its previous size and one of his eyes was squeezed shut by the bruising on his brow. Maeve could see Clara begin to tremble and placed a hand softly on her back to let her know she was there.

"Before we begin the next round of the games," Katya declared, "We will see justice served. This fool is one of the witch's lapdogs. He colluded to help her take over the city, and in exchange he would be crowned the winner of these games with all the riches and power that that entails!"

Another wave of whispers passed through the crowd. Maeve doubted many people even knew that Taroh was one of the trainers who had taken part in the games but it did not seem to matter. Katya had moved so swiftly and so decisively that everyone else was too afraid to speak out against her. She declared someone guilty, and the court had no choice but to accept her word as truth.

Maeve gave Clara's hand one final squeeze before slipping quietly through the crowd. The onlookers were so intent on not drawing attention to themselves that no one stopped her and few so much as looked at her. Maeve's hand coiled around one of the daggers hidden beneath her cloak, her heart beating a fast but even rhythm in her chest.

"As Princess of this glorious city," Katya declared, "I can only offer one sentence for treason. Death!" She rose her hand, the purple cloak that she wore parting as she brandished a knife with rubies embedded in the hilt above her head. Maeve spotted a flash of gold at her waist and thought it must have been the lamp.

"May the blood of this traitor wash clean the streets of our city!" Katya snarled, the silver blade of her knife glinting beneath the golden city.

Maeve was ready to strike. She slid her daggers from the belts about her thigh and was about to lunge out of the crowd when she felt a hand close around her right arm and pull her back.

"Not yet," Mhati hissed in her ear. "It's too late."

Maeve turned back to Katya as a gasp of shock rose from the crowd. The Princess' knife was buried in Taroh's neck, his scarlet blood bubbling from the wound to stain his neck and chest. Maeve's first thought was of Clara and the horror she must be feeling watching her master die in front of her, then her thoughts turned to anger and rage as she saw the wicked smile spread across Katya's face.

"At last!" the Princess hissed, withdrawing the gold and ruby lamp from beneath her robe and holding it beneath the waterfall of Taroh's blood. "At last this pathetic city shall be mine!"

A ripple of panic passed through the crowd. Half the crowd were enthralled by the scene playing out before them whilst the other half seemed unsure of what to do. The Sheik staggered to his feet, his face pale and his eyes wide.

"Katya!" he rasped, his voice hollow. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Oh uncle," the Princess cooed spitefully. "How long I have waited for the day I can tell you to shut up."

Junda bristled, his mouth tightening as he pointed at his niece. "Enough of this! Seize her!"

There was a moment where nothing happened before Katya's grin spread wider. "You old fool," she sneered. "Did you really think I would be so easily stopped?" she looked at the guards and jerked her chin at her uncle, smiling as they seized the Sheik and threw him roughly to the floor.

"This city now belongs to me!" she roared at the crowd. "Your lives belong to me! Now, witness the power of your new Queen and bow before me!"

The rubies embedded in the lamp began to glow. Steam rose from the golden surface, boiling away the remnants of Taroh's blood and then red smoke began to billow from the spout of the lamp. The crowd recoiled in fear as the smoke began to coil swiftly about the room, people ran for the doorway but found their path blocked by Katya's guards who bared their spears and forced them back at the tip of their spears. The plume of smoke spiralled above the lamp as Katya threw back her head and laughed and within its depths Maeve saw something terrible begin to coalesce. It began with a broad body of barely contained muscle from which formed arms as thick as tree trunks bound in gold bracers. A head took shape next, the face both terrifying and beautiful, and within its searing yellow eyes, Maeve saw the birth and death of worlds and realised what a fool she had been to think she could stop Katya alone.

The Djinn flexed its muscles as before the terrified crowd. It's skin was scarlet fading to a wisp of red-grey smoke where it's legs should have been. It laughed with a deep sonorous voice, drinking in the screams of those that beheld its power as it grew in stature, doubling, tripling, then quadrupling in size until the very ceiling could no longer contain it and the entire side of the palace dome blew outwards with a colossal boom. The crowd shrieked as pieces of warped metal cascaded down around them. Maeve dove to the side as a twisted spear of gold landed between her and Mhati and felt someone pull her to the side.

"Clara?" she gasped as she looked around. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault!"

"No," Clara replied, her eyes wide and red as she held onto Maeve. "No one could have stopped this."

Dust filled the air as the rubble of the shattered dome at last settled. Katya alone remained standing, her arms held up towards the Djinn, a twisted, manic smile still set upon her face. The spirit rolled its neck and breathed deeply, as if tasting fresh air for the first time in many centuries.

"Who disturbs my slumber?" the spirit demanded in a voice that echoed through the ages.

"I do!" Katya replied without hesitation. "I am Katya, Queen of Arridia and it is by my will that you have been freed!"

The Djinn looked down on the Princess and folded it's enormous arms across its chest. "You are a soft thing," it declared disdainfully. "You have no power over me."

For the first time, Katya's smile faltered. "I am your mistress!" she hissed. "I summoned you! I bathed the lamp in the blood of those touched by your magic! I spoke the words to break the cosmic laws that bind you! I have given you more freedom and more power than you have ever known before! You will serve me!"

"You are nothing," the Djinn hissed.

Katya's face had drained of colour. She glared at the Djinn, her whole body trembling with rage and fear, a wild, manic look in her eyes. "If you will not serve me," she hissed, "then who do you serve?"

Someone walked past Maeve, the hem of her jewelled skirt dragging through the dust and the carnage of the Djinn's arrival. Mhati stared up at the Djinn and smiled calmly.

"The Djinn serves me!"

"Mistress," the spirit replied reverently.

Maeve felt as though she had been struck by a charging horse. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She had trusted Mhati. She had shared secrets about her past with her and they had laughed together. She thought they had been friends.

"You!" Katya hissed. "You told me the Djinn would be mine to command!"

Mhati tutted and shook her head. "You always were a naive little brat, Katya," she replied coldly. "I gave you the lamp, but did you ever question why? Did you ever think to ask if I had summoned the spirit within already? Of course not. You saw a quick and easy route to what you wanted and you took it without hesitation."

"You promised me power!" Katya cried, tears of rage streaming down her cheeks.

"I gave you power," Mhati replied. "I taught you just enough to complete the task I had set for you, just enough to ensure that any suspicion would fall upon you, not me." She looked over her shoulder at Maeve and smiled thinly.

"You bitch!" the Princess shrieked. "I'll kill you! I'll..."

"Enough of this!" Mhati snapped. "Djinn, this shall be my first wish of many. Kill the Princess!"

Maeve watched in horror as the Djinn bowed its head and snapped its fingers. The Princess had just enough time to turn around before a column of fire consumed her body. Her screams faded as quickly as they had begun, and when the flames died away there was not even a speck of ash left where the Princess had once stood. The crowd began to panic once again. The wailing of Sheik Junda cut through the terrified screams like a knife as people surged towards the exit.

"Kill them," she heard Mhati order the guards that had moved to flank her. Her voice was cold and dispassionate and Maeve wondered how long she had been planning this. "Allow a handful to escape."

The guards began to fan out, swords and spears turning on the nobles and merchants that they had once sworn to protect. Maeve scrambled to her feet as one of the soldiers advanced towards her with a murderous glint in his eye and drew both her daggers.

"Stay behind me, Clara!" she shouted as she dropped into a fighting stance.

The guard lunged at her with his sword and she neatly turned his blade aside. He moved to stroked her with the back of his hand but she ducked beneath his swing and delivered to swift stabs to his side directly below his arm. He looked at her in surprise before toppling over sideways onto the floor.

"Impressive," Mhati said calmly. "You should not have come here though, Maeve."

"Why are you doing this?" Maeve asked. "I trusted you!"

The smile that Mhati wore did not quite seem to reach her eyes. "You would not understand," she said. "Suffice to say, I intend to burn this city and everyone in it to the ground."

"We'll stop you," Maeve said firmly. "Shay and I will stop you."

"I'm sure you will try," Mhati said. "That is why I cannot let you live." She turned to the Djinn and snapped her fingers, but when she looked around, Maeve and Clara were already gone.

****

"Hold on!" Maeve shouted as they plummeted over the edge of the basilica.

Clara gripped her hand fiercely, the wind whipping her chestnut hair about her face as they fell. The screams of the dying were already fading, but the ground was rapidly rising to meet them. Maeve gripped her dagger tightly in her hand and drove it into the banner that hung from the basilica into the wall behind it. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut as sparks flew all around her, drowning out the sounds of the other guests being thrown from the tower by the Djinn and the guards alike and prayed that her final, desperate gambit would work. She felt her blade bite into stone and cloth, heard the tapestry rip and tear as they continued their descent towards the earth at a too rapid rate until, finally, she felt their speed began to slow. She shouted for Clara to tuck in her legs, knowing that their landing was anything but certain, and then braced herself as the steps of the front gate of palace rushed up to meet them.

Pain exploded through her body as she hit the stone. She felt Clara's hand get torn from her own as they careened down the steps and it was all she could do to protect her face and head as she bounced across the hard stone drive, her bones being battered from side to side in her body. She groaned as she at last came to stop, dazed and confused but somehow still alive. She could hear dozens of people shouting in confusion, the sound of horses whinnying and screaming in the distance. Fire bloomed overhead from within the palace dome and fresh shards of gold shrapnel rained down around her.

Someone rushed up to her, their face blurred by the concussion she was undoubtedly suffering from. She felt a pair of strong hands lift her up and drag her away from the debris field before she was bundled into a carriage. She groaned as someone placed a hand on her forehead and a soft, pink light dazzled her eyes before a warm soothing sensation spread through her body.

"Clara," she groaned.

"It's alright," a wonderfully familiar voice replied. "We've got her."

Maeve turned in her seat, the sight of Shay's face, her pink eyes brimming with tears of relief, filling her with a joy unlike anything she had ever felt before.

"I knew you were still alive," she whispered as Shay wrapped her arms around her and let the tears flow freely down her face. "I knew I would find you..."