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."
Majidah narrowed her eyes. She glimpsed at Arran from the corner of her eye. "You vouch for her?" He nodded, and she scoffed. "Do I even want to know how you met the goddamn crown princess? Did you try to raid the palace or something?"
Arran crossed his arms. "No, but I'm going to. Now, if you agree to let the princess deliver her speech, I'll bring you a souvenir," he added with a wink.
A shark-like grin spread across the woman's face. Her snake-like eyes burned with greed. "I don't believe you." She licked her lips, then gestured at Inna. "All right. But if they turn this place to chaos to rip you to pieces, I'll send the bill for the repairs to your father along with your head."
Inna arched a brow, unimpressed, yet Majidah had already turned on her heel to clamber onto the table. The supervisor cleared her throat. "Hear ye, hear ye, people of Primsharah! We have a very special guest at our market today who would like to have a word with all of you." Customers gathered around Majidah to listen, while the merchants leaned against their rickety stalls, wary to abandon their goods. Probably a smart move, considering the number of thieves and pickpockets that roamed the market.
Majidah rubbed her palms together, her face alight with the excitement of being the center of attention. "Allow me to present to you Serafina Adelhari, First Daughter to our beloved Shah and heir to the throne."
The palm of her hand was slippery with sweat while she helped Inna up the table. From up close, the two women were almost of the same height. Inna thanked her with a brief smile. Her heart pounding in her ears, she inhaled deeply. Arran and Adira gave encouraging nods, their resemblance to each other so strong in that movement that Inna had to stifle a laugh. Zazi rested her head between Arran's wild curls; Inna missed her familiar closeness, but the snake's presence might have unnerved her audience even more than already was the case.
"I know many of you distrust the royals," she began, "a distrust not only caused by recent events, but by many years of neglect on the palace's part. My father, and several generations of Shahs before him, have allowed this part of the city, your part of the city, to wither for much too long. And now, to top it all off, foreigners pace our streets and impose senseless rules to restrict your freedom." A mutter of cautious agreement rose from the assembled crowd. "These foreigners have polluted our city with foul magic. They have smelled the weakness in my father's mind and exploit it for their own interests. There is a prince among them, a prince who cannot be a Shah in his own nation. He was welcomed into the palace as my suitor and now seeks to conquer it for himself."
The clamor grew louder. "More royals to spoil our lives," one man with a long, black beard spat. Several people raised their voices in agreement.
Inna grimaced. Not for the first time she wondered whether she was doing the right thing. What if their anger extended toward the entirety of the royal family after they had banned the Cult from Primsharahn soil?
"SILENCE!" Adira bellowed. A startled quiet followed in the wake of her command. That was a strong noise coming from such a small girl.
Inna shot her an appreciative glance. "Now," she continued, "I don't want this coup to proceed as much as you do. This prince thinks it is his rightful place to rule over others, as a high-born noble, as a sorcerer." She paused to let that last word sink in. The change in atmosphere, propelled by the sudden severity of the situation, descended onto the crowd like a veil dipped in poison. "We all know what damage the self-righteous ideologies of men with magic in their blood can inflict."
"Is your own bloodline not defined by magic, then?" an elderly woman spoke up.
"Have we ever used it to exert control over others?" Inna countered. "There are countless sorcerers in Primsharah. They fight as your soldiers, they trade as your merchants, and they steal from the rich as your thieves." She thought she heard Arran's chuckle mingle with the onlookers' doubtful grunts. "They are among you now, as your neighbors, coworkers or friends. They are good people. But this prince, Prince Rabyatt of Rasir, is not a good man. The signs are everywhere." She spread her arms to encompass the tunnel's width. With her words, she had spun a web of truths and lies that trapped her audience in a single state of mind: rebellion.
Still, she hadn't convinced them. She could see it in their knitted brows, their clenched fists and teeth. Could she blame them? After all, in her own way, she had abandoned them as much as their Shah had, even if they lacked the proof to confirm their suspicions.
A young woman of Inna's age stepped forward. She flipped her long, brown hair over one shoulder as her eyes swept past Inna's feet to where Arran and Adira flanked the table. "I saw you enter the market with the princess, Arran," she said. The hair on the back of Inna's neck stood up indignantly at the accusing note in her shrill voice. "Do you think she really wants to help us?"
As one, all faces turned to the dark-haired boy who stood a head—or two—taller than most of them. His familiar features bore the trust they could not find in Inna's. He was one of them; she was an outsider. No matter how much it frustrated her that she had so little say in this matter, despite her position of authority, she understood. In a district deprived of most of its means and rights, the only ones who knew the hardship of such a life were the ones who had lived it themselves. If she gained the support of one of their own, they might reconsider.
Arran looked at her, calm and confident. "I do. I owe my life to her." His voice was a low, deep rumble. He tore his brilliant eyes away from her, focusing on the curious faces of their audience. "The princess fled the palace after Prince Rabyatt coaxed her father to throw her into the dungeons. She caught me sneaking around a house with my pockets full of coin and jewelry." His guilty grin was met by quiet laughter. "Instead of handing me over to the city guards, she chose to help me. As a counterweight for her discretion, I agreed to aid her in toppling the foreign prince. But we can't do it on our own."
He walked forward until he stood face to face with the girl who had spoken earlier. She tensed, her cheeks flushed. Inna did her best to ignore the sting in her heart at the intimacy of the look they shared. These two had history.
"So, Saara, you ask me if you should stand beside her when she's going to take back our city," he said softly. "A month ago, I would have been just as skeptical as you are now. But that woman over there"—he pointed back at Inna—"is our only option in the face of this new threat. Otherwise, all of us will continue to be suppressed until we no longer know what it's like to live without a yoke around our necks. And if she's willing to help me, an ordinary thief who even the gods don't deign to look after, I trust that she will do the same for every soul in this city."
A faint murmur rippled through the crowd. Inna's spine had straightened with each one of Arran's words. She searched his gaze and he held hers as an invisible tremor passed through the both of them, like a tug at the chain that bound their fates together. For a moment, she forgot about Saara, Majidah and all the others in the room.
"I'll join you," a woman balancing a toddler on her arm declared. Inna blinked, startled. The woman's eyes were fierce and determined.
"So will I," the man with the black beard said. He had crossed his arms over his chest. "If royalty is a necessary evil, I still prefer the local ones over foreigners."
More people joined in, nodding and pledging their support to Inna's cause. Even Saara, whose eyes narrowed with jealousy at the loss of Arran's undivided attention, succumbed. Every new voice strengthened Inna's resolve. Rabyatt and his stupid Cult wouldn't know what was coming for them. And when she was done with the prince, she would use her father's weakened position among his court and people to present him with an ultimatum: invest in the enhancement of Primsharah's poorest, or abdicate in favor of his daughter.
Inna held up a hand to silence the crowd. "I could thank you a thousand times for putting your trust in me and it still would not be enough. I will prove that trust to be justified; that is my promise." She paused to take a breath. "Whatever happens tomorrow, or the days after that, this moment has marked a turn in history. Tonight, we stand in the tunnels where the Uniformists plotted the Exclusivists' downfall, and we shall honor them by protecting their legacy and putting an end to our nation's neglectful government. The years of peace and profitable trade have made our leaders blind to danger and to the disintegration of our society. I say no more."
The crowd cheered. The adrenaline pulsing through her veins made her light-headed.
"Are you with me?" she screamed. The noise became deafening, trapped within the tunnel's boundaries. Everywhere she looked, she saw her own wild hope reflected on dozens of faces. In the past hour, she had achieved what no Shah had accomplished in a hundred years: to unite her people once more and to fortify their loosened bond of citizenship in their common goal. She had won back their support. Reckless laughter bubbled up in her throat, but she settled for a broad smile.
Majidah, a hint of skepticism still carved into her features, put both of her hands on the table to claim it back. "What's your plan, Your Highness?"
Inna accepted Adira's extended hand to climb back down to the ground. "I have a few suggestions. Do you have a map around here somewhere?"