||- Lady of Labyrinth II - ||

"It is in time of peace that instruments of war are built"

- Paul Barnmikole

The winter moon was large and cold, set against velvet of inky black, dimming the cluster of dark stars; it bathed the desert in milky light. The Mahakaal temple of Chandranagara was a sight to behold in that moonlit night. It stood separated from the main fortress, clearly descending into ruins under the rule of a Nawab who did not worship at the shrine; it still managed to emit a certain aura of mystique and reverence. Only a set of lonely earthen lamps were lit on the four corners of the temple, underneath the ornate stone carved pillars that held the lotus design of the roof.

A horseman, dressed to suit the rank of inner palace guards left the city gates towards the temple. The guardsmen at the gate did not think to stop and inquire him; for one, they were far below the station of inner palace guards and for another, it was not an uncommon occurrence that a Hindu serving at the palace would make a trip to the temple they still venerated.

For David McLane, speeding towards his destination, it was a clever disguise. Andrew had wanted to come, but his presence was needed at their quarters to keep up their pretence. It had taken a lot to convince him though, especially since the cursed princess had fascinated Andrew's poetic notions. Dave reined in his stallion and watched the motionless temple for a moment, the words encrypted into the note turning his thoughts.

"In the path you aim to follow

Three moons sparkle in light mellow

One is above while one is below

The last is bowed by every fellow"

She had impressed him with her unpredictability. Dave had not confronted Meghdyuth in hopes of finding the cursed princess of Chandranagara. At the present moment, he stood there challenged by a woman who was trapped and secluded by her own people. He wondered what the true nature of the lady was – for he was more than certain that she was nowhere near the demure, delicate princess of Andrew's fantasies. She was a double edged blade, both in brain and character. Perhaps the real purpose of his arrival could only be attained through sharpening her edges into a real fetal weapon.

For that, he needed to win her trust; to win her trust, he must prove himself worthy by winning the test she had set out. After so many years, to be honest after the moment when Lord McLane told him he was ready to return, Dave found adrenaline pumping excitement into his veins. Inhaling a large gulp of the cold desert air, he rode into the night towards the Mahakaal temple's shade.

The sand dunes sheltered them from the guard post towards the temple, where he left his horse and made his way inside. Decades away from these lands had made his memory about temples hazy, still he could feel the vibes of divinity that remained buried in the now abandoned adobe of the great lord. The lamp light was too week in there, while the rest of the temple was drenched in shadows a single beam of moonlight rested on the crescent in Lord Shiv's head, therefore illuminating his idol in a silvery mystique light.

"The moon bowed by all..." Dave muttered to himself. "And where is the other two..?"

As he neared the idol he could see that the silvery light rippled on the stone carved body of Lord Shiva, giving him a strange aura of divinity. The effect was created by a pool of clear water, engraved at the feet of the idol. On the water he could see a clear reflection of the full moon, as the stone roof simply opened up to heavens from that point.

"One above and one below..." Dave smiled. "Clever."

She had clearly mentioned the place, date and time of their meeting in those simple lines. He was sure only on a full moon night like that and at a precise time the pool would be illuminated by the moonlight. But something told him, the real evaluation was only beginning. From instinct, Dave put his hand into the stone engraved pool and felt for the bottom, kneeling at the feet of Lord Shiva.

There it was, as he had expected, there was a lever of sorts on a side of the stone pool. Knowing the trapdoor nature of the architecture of Chandranagara Dave was not surprised as a stone panel slid behind the idol when he pulled the lever, opening a passageway that twisted out of sight.

As soon as he made his way inside, the stone panel slid back to place, sealing him in darkness. Only beams of moonlight that peeped through the stone ceiling of the passageway made his surrounding distinguishable. He made his way forward, cautiously, feet hardly making a sound as he hoped some kind of a bobby trap along the way. Dave did not have to venture too far in search of doom. As he kept one step in front of the other, there was a wheezing sound, a set of knives, one after the other flashed at him.

He escaped them narrowly, as they hit the wall opposite and remained there, dragging his attention towards the wall. Upon it, words were engraved, in an older script that not many of their day and age could read.

The divine mother was blessed with a son

Many children merged into one

Take the path that belongs to none

At the cross chose the wiser one

"Divine mother –" he muttered to himself thinking back to the idols of other deities he had passed on the way to Lord Shiv's. "Goddess Parvati, she represents the north of the shrine. Her son – lord karthikeya represents the east."

He looked around himself, realizing for the first time that he was standing at a center from which five passages went into different directions.

"The direction that belongs to neither – should that be the Northeast?" He took one cautious step towards the said passageway and waited with battered breath. Nothing happened. Upon the gateway to the passage words were engraved. They read, 'life.' Dave closed his eyes for a moment, a different voice calling him from his memories.

"A correct beginning leads to a correct end. The nine gates are the same."

"At life's gate, you cannot die..." He repeated to himself the words his mother had spoken a long ago and strode forward.

The tunnel steeped downwards, the ground turning slippery and air pungent with smell of mold. He reached a fork in the passageway again, where two passages crossed one another. Dave stood there for a moment. He could hear footsteps above him, it seemed the twisting tunnel had somehow led him back to the main fortress of Chandranagara. He filed the knowledge for later use and leaned his ear against the slimy wall, from which he could hear low voiced conversation.

A man groaned and a whip cracked. There was a chuckle and some clinking of chains.

"You'd have to do better than that to make false, true, my dear brother," said a man as another man cursed in fury.

"You will tell me the truth now! I demand it!"

"Better luck next time," sarcasm dripped from the tone of the first man as Dave recognized the other voice as that of Aziz Khan. Shaking his head, he moved away from the wall and replayed the lines from the verse on the wall.

At the crossing, choose the wiser one...

"That is to say, Lord Ganesh? The west?" This time he did not linger on the decision and quickly set off in the respective direction. The tunnel begun to rise again, finally coming to an end with a set of stone steps leading upwards, to a trap door that remained closed. Dave wiped perspire off his brow and started to climb the stairs. From the trapdoor he could hear sounds of a melodious voice and the strings of a sitar being played. The voice sounded like singing some devotional verse as he neared.

The trapdoor cracked, cranked ominously and opened into a vast chamber bathed in ocher candle light. The singing stopped altogether and silence waited to welcome him.

She sat there behind translucent curtains of pale gold, with hair darker than the night outside coiled into a loose braid and thrown over her shoulder. Dark eyed with a complexion like desert, her face was round and cheekbones high, thick lashes casting shadows on them. She was beautiful, now that she was dressed in the finery of a princess, but beautiful in the way all dangerous things were. When she smiled, a gesture both enthralling and daunting, her eyes flashed golden in the light of candles – like those of a lioness.

"Kingmaker," she said slowly. "My friend Afreen had called you that. I wanted to see for myself if you could only talk yourself out of a labyrinth or perhaps you were capable enough to walk out of one too..."

"Meghdyuth," he replied. "The woman who made fools out of many warriors. Have I proved myself enough to call you by your real name?"

"Kashi," she said evenly, there was no awe in her tone, but he took it as a gesture of acknowledgement of his achievement nevertheless. "I am called Rajkumari Kashi Bai."
"Dave – David McLane." He unconsciously almost allowed her to call him by the shortened form of his name, but corrected himself on the last moment.

"Dev..." Kashi rolled the word on her tongue. "Dev?"

He did not correct her, instead inhaled sharply. It was more than a decade since he was called that name; and it had never occurred to him that it could still be a variation of his name on the tongue of another Hindu woman – other than his mother.

"Afreen made a bargain with you," she continued, waving off his reaction to her pronunciation. "And now I have completed it. You can forget whatever secret you held against me."

Although she sounded dismissive and uninterested, Dave held her gaze, reading the spark of interest those dark orbs.

"Something tells me – this conversation is not done, Rajkumari."

"You're correct," she said briskly and rose to her feet, her anklets tinkling with the movement. "After all you played well, up until now." He said nothing as she approached the curtain that parted them, closer enough that he could see each sparkle of the stones on her necklace. "You wanted to find me – me – not Meghdyuth – and I wish to know why."

"And you decided to allow me to reach you – I wish to know why first." He replied without missing a beat. Amusement flashed across her gaze, before she blinked and lowered her eyes.

"Questions are not answered with questions, especially when the interrogator is a royal." Her voice was still sweet, but her gaze now held command. David folded his hands, crossing the little distance between him and the curtain and stared deep into her eyes.

"A royal in no position to demand answers..." He pointed out and she laughed, a tinkling yet sharp laughter.

"We are in the center of a web – indeed, but who is the spider and who is the fly? Who is at the mercy of the other? The cursed princess or the foreign envoy? The painter or the rebel?"

"If the painter is truly a painter and the princess was truly a princess, life would not be so – captivating, huh?"

"Then the painter, who is not a painter, seeks out the princess who is not a princess – things are indeed interesting!" She leaned closer, drowning him in her eyes, her lips twisted into a smile. "Why would the kingmaker want a cursed princess?"

"To make a queen out of her, of cause," he whispered, watching the way the curtain rippled with his breath. Kashi blinked, her gaze blank for one stunned moment before it became icy once more.

"And who would be the king behind that queen's throne? My step brother – Shivjit?" Her tone was venomous when she spat the question. David only smirked.

"Prove your worth to hold the crown alone, Shivjit will no longer shadow your path."

"What if I wish for no throne?"

"Then I'd say you're deceiving yourself."

"I take it, you're here to tempt me into a political struggle? More likely shape me into a political pawn?"

"Willing pawns, wins the game," he told her.

"Is this a bargain?" She mused softly. "Anything I wish, in return of me being a willing pawn?"

"An excellent idea!" His lips twisted into a smirk. "Especially in your friend's moment of need."

"Satya? Was a part of this plan?"

David bowed.

"Impressed, Rajkumari!"

She frowned, eyes flashing at him, still managed to keep her face cold and frozen. He admired her self – restraint as he had admired her other qualities.

"A pawn in exchange of a pawn?"

"A queen in exchange of a pawn."

"Good, for I will never be a pawn to anyone." Her tone was steel just like her gaze.

"Good, a fine queen you will make." He declared.

They held each other's gaze for a moment more in which a truce was formed; between the cursed princess and the kingmaker. A truce that would take many twists and forms, a truce that would be harder to keep than it was to make; a truce it was, that might change not only their fates, but the course of entire history waving around them.

It was a truce, between fire and ice.

** 

This is sort of a milestone in the journey of chasing the sun.
I'd like to know your thoughts on the development so far and please do vote if you liked what you read!

Edited to add: with this chapter we reached 200 votes! I'm so happy! A BIG hug to everyone who voted!

Thank You!