The Mayaware's reign has to end.
In a world of demonic beings with a hunger for human flesh, and thirst for blood, Hesi Renen knows it well. When her siblings are taken to the harvesting farms, she must do everything she can to get them out, even if...
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If a celebration was meant to be this muted, Hesi would have attended a Mayaware rave after a successful raid. She sat cross-legged on the edge of her cot, eyeing the basket of scarlet citrus near Uzare's foot. It was part of the feast Festophis claimed to have prepared for his slate since all six went through.
All of the brides lounged around in the largest room of the bridal palace. Even if there were enough rooms for everyone in this building alone, the Mayaware insisted on keeping the humans in one place. Maybe it was for safety reasons or something as stupid as thinking of them as sheep needing to be reared. Hesi resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her own thoughts. It wouldn't be a welcome sight.
"How did you know our tasks were meant to disrupt each other's?" Semret, the youngest of them all, shifted from her cot and faced Rehema who sat with one leg up. On the older woman's hand sat an opened but uneaten fruit.
Hesi's stomach growled. She hadn't been able to grab something to eat since midday and the ceremony lasted well away into the afternoon. After that, they were all thrown into this room.
If Hesi's eavesdropping on the brides' conversations since a woman gathered enough courage to speak, Semret was the other one in Iserphis' slate. There were only her and Taskhari so with the latter gone, the pressure for Semret to win it for the Mayaware general would be stronger.
Petra, the woman with dark ocher hair, and Barteset, a woman who looked old enough to be Semret's mother, were in Khetaphis' slates. As the head of the Iron Pillar, the largest trading post in all of Iren-Washep, his slate would be receiving some burden. Rehema entered the trials as Nephdaphis' sole bet, as was Khono, who was competing under Heruphis' flag.
Festophis seemed to think it was the lottery and entered six—Mensa, Tagara, Uzare, Isueri, Otraqte, and, of course, Hesi.
"It's not me," Rehema answered with a sigh. She jerked her head in Hesi's direction. "She's the one who pointed it out."
"And then what?" Asrate, the woman with two braids hanging on either side of her head while the hair behind her ears were sheared to the base of her neck. "You just followed her?"
Hesi glanced at the woman. Despite the straightened spine and the squared shoulders, she could tell Asrate was faking it. Out of all the women who saw what happened to Taskhari, it was Asrate who was affected the most. Her hands still hasn't stopped shaking and Hesi had lost count of how many times the woman had rubbed her palms against her gossamer skirt.
"It made sense," Uzare interjected. Hesi frowned. Why was the woman defending Hesi? "I saw it with my own eyes too. These demons weren't concerned with our lives. They just want to find the prince's wife, for reasons I never could fathom."
Hesi crawled to the woman's side and used it as an excuse to swipe a fruit from the top of the basket. These would rot if they didn't eat nothing but them for the upcoming week. "Whatever it is, I'd still want to offer you the same proposition I did to Rehema," her nails dug into the fruit's crown, the sickly-sweet juice staining her nailbeds red. She pulled. The rind made tearing noises against her force. "Their plan was to pit us against each other, so we're going to turn it on their heads. We're going to work together."
