She chose to come here without the Guardians’ Hero at her side. She went willingly with the guards who accosted her at the coast. Even we, at the top of the highest platform in the palace, deliberately visible for the Hero to find, felt the aftershocks of her mimicry as she teleported past the palace walls.
She’s not stupid. She had to know we would sense her.
So, she went with our guards, only struggling when they tried to take the young boy from her arms. He was already unconscious by the time she made it to the platform. His face stayed hidden in the crook of her neck until she tenderly placed him on the floor, curled into a fetal position that made him look smaller than he already was.
She physically placed herself between him and us, as if we would have any need for a young boy.
Unless he had the Samay Stone.
Pucaru orders another three soldiers to detain her, but our numbers are quickly dwindling. Tutay is standing guard halfway up the stairs, and we won’t call her up when she needs to stay focused on potential threats like the Guardians’ Hero. We can’t afford for anything to go wrong while Cashan is up here with us in his debilitated state, unconscious body hidden away in a makeshift tent.
Princess Yanami takes down the three guards effortlessly, knocking them out but not killing them. The guards refused to use mimicry even under threat of death. Their misguided devotion stifles their full power. Yet something in the princess’s grace makes me think that even the guards at their true power wouldn’t be enough. She really is so highly skilled as to take them out in a few moves.
From my vantage point in the back, I analyze the situation with the rest of my family. Princess Yanami wears the same mask as her mother and siblings, but there’s something frenetic in her energy. She’s holding back with the guards, but here and there she slips and uses more force to end things faster. In between the fights, she looks around, taking in every face as if trying to find someone specific.
I think of Suyai, slowly dying from her wounds due to a lack of healing. None of us got the sense that Suyai and the princess were close, but maybe we missed something.
I crane my neck but only catch a fast glimpse of the unconscious boy before the princess’s body falls into place to block him.
Suyai and this boy. We’re missing something about them.
A guard comes in from the north stairs, and the princess momentarily turns her body to look at them. She only does it for a second, too fast for me to move my body, but not fast enough for Qajay to dart to the side and get a good look at the young boy.
Qajay jumps out of the way once the princess gets back into place, but their pale face is enough to confirm my suspicions.
“That child is Suyai’s,” Qajay announces to the group, not bothering to keep their voice low. They figured out the same thing I did. The princess wouldn’t come here with this liability if she weren’t here for Suyai too.
There’s a moment of pause, like the bated breath before a sob.
The princess may be weakened from the mimicry it took to teleport here, but she has a few pitch-black strands left in her hair. She’s not powerless. We have numbers on our side, but she has the stone.
So, which way is it going to go?
“Where is Suyai?” Princess Yanami asks.
Her voice surprises me. It holds all the authority of the dead Inka but none of the snobbery. The princess sounds exhausted, not defeated but not arrogant either. I stand up from my chair, and the others close their mouths.
“She’s too injured to leave her room,” I say.
The princess has to have seen the projection after the fight. She has to know what state Suyai is in.
Her next words come out so sure that I almost believe her. “Send one of your men to get her. I assure you, she has the will to come out.”
“We can tell her you’re here with her family, but there’s a chance she won’t believe us,” Qajay reasons. They’re right. Suyai fought Tutay valiantly, but by the end, any budding camaraderie we had between us was gone. She won’t trust a single word out of any of us.
The princess raises an eyebrow at us, then sighs as if we’re inconveniencing her. As if she hadn’t been fighting for her life moments ago. Maybe to her, she hadn’t been.
“She already knows the boy is here. We handled that part for you,” she bites out. Her face shifts between petulant teenager and world-weary adult.
“I don’t repeat myself,” she says. It’s a statement that should be abrasive, but from her, it sounds like a prayer.
This is our chance. It’s the only leverage we have.
“We’ll bring Suyai if you comply with our demands,” I say. My mind both races and feels peacefully detached. We’re at the end now. It’s just a matter of pulling it off.
The princess narrows her eyes at us, but answers quickly. She isn’t surprised by anything. “What are your demands?”
“We need the Samay Stone,” I answer bluntly. Her facial expression doesn’t even twitch.
