The Hour of the Crow

Chapter 30: The Seeds of an Uprising

The bustle of the black market was exactly how Inna remembered it: loud, energetic and obscure, with throngs of people moving along the narrow passageways, their faces a blur lit by scant torchlight. Merchants shouted at the top of their lungs to tout their wares. Coin flickered copper, silver and, in rare cases, gold where transactions were completed. Next to her, Arran ploughed through the masses with the ease of a regular visitor, someone who felt at home amid the chaos unique to this place.

"How will I ever draw all of their attention?" she asked him, grunting when a stray elbow hit her in the ribs.

"You'll need Majidah for that," he yelled back over his shoulder.

"Who?"

"The market's supervisor. She keeps an eye on brewing scuffles between merchants and customers, to make sure everyone's contented at the end of the day. She owns the warehouse where the previous market was located and every merchant pays her a small fee in exchange for selling their goods in a more or less secure place. Her stall is set up near the center of the market."

Inna stretched her neck to peer over the multitude of heads, many of them covered with shawls and hoods. A bit further away, the stalls and booths veered off the path to create a circle around a small wooden table, where a corpulent woman with black-and-white hair sat counting coins. Emeralds, sapphires and rubies pierced both of her thick eyebrows, although they possessed a glass-like gleam that marked them as cheap fakes.

She looked up as Arran, Inna and Adira approached. Her eyes were a venomous green speckled with gold. When she smiled, Inna noticed a silver tooth. "Look who we have here! Arran, I was starting to get worried you had abandoned us for good." She pouted.

Arran bent across the table to give her a quick peck on the cheek. "Salaam, Majidah. Has Basat come moaning to you about his lack of income?"

She scowled. "That idiot thought you were trading with a new buyer behind his back. I feared I would have to bribe him with coin to get him off my back."

He laughed. "Majidah, I'd like you to meet someone." Blindly, he reached for Inna's hand, pulling her into the other woman's line of sight. "This is Her Royal Highness the Princess Serafina. She has a message for all of us."

"The crown princess? Really?"

"Would I lie to you? Do you know anyone else with such lustrous hair and mesmerizing eyes?" Arran winked at Inna. She rolled her eyes, yet couldn't prevent her lips from twitching. Behind her, Adira let out a loud snort.

A sly grin crept across Majidah's mouth. Slowly, she bowed, a gesture that came across as mockery rather than genuine respect. Inna's nails clawed at the loose fabric of her pants.

"It is an honor, Your Highness," Majidah said, her voice too loud. Several passersby turned their heads to look at them. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit to our humble marketplace? Have you come to gloat about the consequences of your father's new government?" She peered over Inna's shoulder as if to search for guards ready to blow up the tunnel.

Zohra had been right. There was a lot of bad blood here.

Inna drew herself up, fearless and confident, although her neck warmed beneath the distrustful stares of the people in their immediate vicinity. "My father tried to imprison me in the palace's dungeons. I think it's fair to say he's lost his mind."

"On that, we can agree, Your Highness."

She clasped her hands behind her back. "It's not too late to undo the measures he's taken, but I can't do it alone. Let me speak to the people, Majidah, so that I can explain my cause to them. Give me a chance to persuade you of my intentions."