“Right this moment?” grumbled Niya, sitting up.
“Immediately. Your companions are to meet you in the hall in a quarter sand fall.”
Niya knew they meant her sisters, though none here knew that they were related, only that they performed together.
In a rush Niya found herself cloaked and disguised in her gold mask, entering the throne room with Larkyra and Arabessa.
None of them knew why the king had sent for them, but even if they had, Niya would still be gripped with a crackling of nerves as she was now.
Their master sat within his swirl of black smoke at the far end of his throne room, only his suppressive power seen and felt.
Before him knelt a woman, her long gray hair covering her bowed head. A shattered mask lay in pieces beside her, while her arms were bound behind her.
“We have a traitor in our midst.” The Thief King’s deep voice filled the cavernous chamber, and the smoke covering him vibrated with each of his words.
Niya’s skin chilled in anticipation, feeling her king’s anger in the air, flowing in the lava lining their narrow walkway. He was not their father in these moments. No, Dolion Bassette was merely a shadow in their presence, possessed by whatever ancient power kept the Thief King ruling, filled with memories and knowledge and secrets from a time when the lost gods had not been lost but had roamed Aadilor in their glory.
Niya stood silent beside her sisters, waiting by the foot of his throne.
“It appears this creature desires that our kingdom be split open, that all of Aadilor know how to get in. Isn’t that right, Valexa?”
The woman’s head snapped back. Her pale complexion was folded and wrinkled, gaps of missing teeth showed in her snarl, and yet her eyes held youth, clarity, in their glowing yellow depths.
She is a senseer, thought Niya, feeling the thick magic stirring in the woman. One with gifts that could not reach out, only inward, as they listened to the minds around them, reading thoughts.
Niya instantly shuttered her mind, just like Achak had taught her and her sisters.
Yet the woman must have sensed her effort, for her gaze fell to Niya, then Larkyra and Arabessa, taking in their black cloaks and gold masks. A twisted grin inched up her face.
“These three,” she croaked. “These three are special to y—” She sucked in a sharp breath as the king’s power squeezed, a silver leash flowing from his clouded form and wrapping around hers. She coughed as he let go, a wheeze mixed with a laugh. “You cannot hide behind your smoke forever,” she forced out. “The sins of this kingdom will be known. Your sins and your sinners. Such a place must be found. Destroyed!”
A purist. How boring.
“No.” Valexa turned her attention to Niya, hearing her thoughts, and Niya silently scolded herself for letting her guard down. “I once was like you, a cretin of gluttony and glory and vice. It will serve you for a time, child, but know this: it will destroy you in the end. Masks, they are. Nothing but thin veils. This place is a disguise for evil to roam free, to let damnation out without guilt following lost souls home.”
“And without such a place, where do you think these ‘sinners,’ as you call them, would go?” the Thief King rumbled. “How would they curb their vice? Let out their carnality? The Thief Kingdom exists to relieve Aadilor of what would otherwise plague its lands. To accept what is deemed unacceptable. We welcome chaos to allow calm.”
Niya had heard these words before, in lessons from their father. For the world to remain at peace, it needed a place that could safely hide desires otherwise condemned by society. The world needed a sanctuary for pleasure and folly and sin. Which was why the Thief Kingdom was not marked on maps of Aadilor: to maintain a semblance of control over who came and went, to allow their king to collect the secrets of every soul who entered his domain, to keep the havoc in.
“But you know this,” the king mused. “You needed this kingdom once, Valexa. Very badly.”
“And I have paid for that need ever since,” she spat.
“A price you agreed to. Do not place blame on others for decisions you have made. You have lived long enough to know such ways are tiresome.”
“Too long,” she mumbled.
“A burden you will no longer shoulder after this night.”
Niya looked to her king, as did Valexa, but the black-and-silver cloud around him remained impenetrable.
“Silencing me will not stop others. I have spoken of the evil here, of the tyrant who rules within the caved city. Others feel as I, and when they find this place, Aadilor will—”
Valexa’s words were cut off. The king’s magic tightened around her once more, her complexion turning purple from the blockage of airflow.
“My devoted subjects,” the king’s voice boomed, acknowledging Niya and her sisters. “I called you here tonight to extend an invitation at my court. You perform for my subjects, but now I ask you to perform for me. Will you help keep this kingdom safe from those who wish it otherwise?”
Niya’s heart picked up speed, her magic gleeful with the dark promises that spun in the air. She had been waiting for this moment.
Niya and her sisters answered as one. “We will, my king.”
“Will you obey my commands loyally and without question?”
“We will, my king.”
“The tasks ahead will not be easy. Most will fear you, some will hate you, but all will respect you. Are you willing to become such creatures?”
Niya could feel the thrum of energy from her sisters, from each of their gifts, their quick hesitation, before, “We are, my king.”
“Then I name you my Mousai, members of the Thief Kingdom’s guardians,” he declared. “And to prove your faith to me and our people, you will send the guilty before us to the Fade.”
“You are . . . all . . . monsters,” Valexa gasped through the king’s grip, her eyes full of determined fire, it seemed, until the very end.
“Perhaps,” the king replied, “but even the sun casts shadows.”
A sand fall later, Niya and her sisters stood in the dark hall of the court, dressed in one of their many opulent disguises, fully covered from head to toe to fingertip in costume. Despite the hour, the hall was now packed with court members. Word seemed to have spread fast regarding the Mousai and their intended performance. A buzz of excitement filled the high-ceilinged black onyx hall. Desire to watch punishment and pain.
Achak stood in the center of the hall. Valexa knelt at their feet.
“Our king has found a traitor in our midst,” the brother said, hushing the crowd. “It appears there are those who do not condone the conduct of this kingdom. There are those who wish it to fall at the mercy of the ignorant and fearful.”
Boos and shouts of displeasure echoed against the cool, inky walls.
“Here kneels such a member. They have been linked to the many explosions that have taken lives and destroyed irreplaceable parts of our kingdom.”
The yelling grew louder. Niya’s magic spun impatiently inside her veins at the mass of movement and energy to feed off. She did not yet know how to feel about sending Valexa to the Fade, but she soaked in the anger in the room, solidifying her resolve that the bent, broken woman before them deserved her end.
“Our dear magic performers, the king’s Mousai, have agreed to demonstrate what we do to those who dare defy our master, who dare to cast judgment on those who have done them no harm. Who are different from them.” Achak lifted their voice higher. “Our dear Mousai will give us a performance none have yet seen. They will give us a performance that will send this soul to the Fade.”
The following roar was deafening, the spiked hall reverberating with animalistic glee. Niya felt heady with their excitement. Yes, purred her gift. Yesssss.