Maya's POV
The palace guard shoves me into a room and slams the door behind me.
I hear the lock click. Then footsteps walking away.
I'm alone.
The room is beautiful—silk curtains, a bed bigger than my entire New York apartment, golden decorations everywhere. It looks like something from a movie about ancient royalty. But beautiful or not, it's still a prison.
I run to the door and pull on the handle. Locked tight.
"Let me out!" I pound on the wood with my fists. "You can't just lock me up! I have rights!"
No answer. Just silence on the other side.
I sink down with my back against the door, my hands shaking. Everything that happened in the throne room keeps replaying in my mind. The Pharaoh's command. Nefertari's pitying look. Prince Ammon's creepy smile.
And Khalid. The warrior who's now responsible for keeping me alive.
The same warrior who looks at me like I'm a problem he wishes would disappear.
I pull my knees to my chest and try to think logically. I'm an archaeologist. I solve puzzles for a living. This is just another puzzle.
Except this puzzle involves time travel and prophecies and being trapped three thousand years in the past.
My stomach growls, reminding me I haven't eaten since before the gala. Was that really only two days ago? It feels like a lifetime.
A knock on the door makes me jump.
"Who is it?" I call out, scrambling to my feet.
"Someone who's not here to hurt you," a woman's voice responds. "Unlike the men outside your door who definitely would hurt you if you tried to escape."
The lock clicks. The door opens.
A woman around my age steps inside carrying a tray of food. She's wearing simple clothes and has a sword strapped to her hip. Her dark hair is pulled back in a braid, and there's a scar across her left eyebrow that makes her look tough.
She kicks the door shut behind her and sets the tray on a table. "Eat. You look like you're about to pass out."
I don't move. "Who are you?"
"Zara. Lieutenant in Commander Khalid's guard." She gestures at the food. "Seriously, eat. The commander will start training you tomorrow, and you'll need your strength. Trust me."
"Training for what?"
"For staying alive." Zara sits on the edge of the bed like she owns the place. "You're the Star-Marked Woman. That makes you the most valuable person in the Empire right now. Also the most dangerous. A lot of people want you dead."
My legs suddenly feel weak. I sit down hard on a chair. "Why would anyone want me dead? I just got here!"
"Because of the prophecy. Some people believe you'll save us from the Great Shattering. Others believe you'll cause it." Zara shrugs. "Either way, you're powerful. And powerful people always have enemies."
I look at the food on the tray—bread, fruit, something that might be cheese. My stomach growls again, but I don't trust it.
"How do I know it's not poisoned?"
Zara grabs a piece of bread and takes a big bite. "There. Happy?"
I reach for the food with trembling hands and start eating. It tastes amazing, which makes me want to cry for some reason. Maybe because it's the first kind thing anyone's done since I got here.
"Why are you being nice to me?" I ask between bites.
"Because Khalid ordered me to make sure you don't die of starvation or stupidity before training starts." Zara grins. "Also, I like you. Anyone who makes the commander that angry is automatically interesting."
"I make him angry?"
"You should've seen his face when the Pharaoh gave him responsibility for you. I've never seen him look so furious." She laughs. "He hates prophecies. Hates magic. Hates anything he can't control with a sword. And you're all of those things combined."
"I don't want to be here either," I mutter.
"Yeah, I got that impression." Zara stands and walks to the window. "You should know—Prince Ammon has already sent three requests to the Pharaoh asking for you to be transferred to his care instead of Khalid's."
"Why?"
"Because Ammon wants power, and you're the key to getting it. If he controls the Star-Marked Woman, he controls the prophecy." She turns to look at me. "Khalid won't let that happen. Whatever else he is, he's loyal to the Pharaoh. And he keeps his promises."
"Even promises he doesn't want to keep?"
"Especially those."
I finish eating in silence, my mind racing. Everyone here wants to use me for something—prophecies, power, politics. Nobody cares that I'm just Maya, a person whose life got destroyed and who just wants to go home.
"Can I ask you something?" I say quietly.
"Sure."
"The High Priestess said I can't go home until the prophecy is fulfilled. But what if I don't want to fulfill it? What if I just want to find a way back to my own time?"
Zara's expression turns serious. "Then you doom two worlds. Yours and ours."
"What does that mean?"
"It means if you leave before preventing the Great Shattering, the timeline collapses. Your present and our past both cease to exist." She crosses her arms. "Nefertari didn't tell you that part?"
I feel sick. "No. She didn't."
"Well, now you know. You're stuck here whether you like it or not." Zara heads for the door. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow Khalid starts training you, and he doesn't believe in going easy on anyone."
"Wait," I call after her. "What's he like? Really?"
Zara pauses with her hand on the door. "Khalid? He's the best warrior in the Empire. Completely ruthless in battle. Would die before breaking an oath." She looks back at me. "He's also the loneliest person I know. Lost everyone he ever cared about. Doesn't let anyone close anymore."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you're going to spend a lot of time with him. And Khalid pushes people away by being cold and harsh. Don't let it work on you." She smiles slightly. "He needs someone to push back."
Then she's gone, the door locking behind her.
I walk to the window and look out at the impossible city below. Lights flicker in windows. People move through streets that shouldn't exist. Somewhere out there is a war brewing that I'm supposed to stop.
I press my forehead against the cool glass and close my eyes.
"I can't do this," I whisper. "I'm not strong enough."
But there's no one to hear me. No one to tell me it's okay to be scared.
I'm completely alone in a world that's not my own, with a destiny I never asked for.
Sleep doesn't come easily. When it finally does, I dream of Sebastian's smiling face as he destroyed my life. Of Patricia's cold eyes at the gala. Of the mysterious woman on the phone warning me it was a trap.
They wanted me to touch the ankh. They knew what would happen.
Which means everything—the betrayal, the setup, my disgrace—was planned to get me here.
But why?
I wake to pounding on my door.
"Get up!" Khalid's voice, sharp and commanding. "Training starts now."
I look at the window. The sun is barely up.
"I need to change first," I call back.
"You have two minutes. Then I'm coming in whether you're ready or not."
I scramble out of bed and find simple training clothes laid out on a chair—pants and a tunic that actually fit. Someone must have measured me while I was sleeping, which is creepy but also practical.
I change quickly and open the door.
Khalid stands there in training gear, his arms crossed. His expression is hard and cold, no trace of the momentary recognition I saw in the desert.
"Follow me," he orders, already walking away.
I hurry to keep up. He leads me through hallways and down stairs until we reach a huge outdoor training yard. Dozens of soldiers are already practicing—sword fighting, hand-to-hand combat, archery.
They all stop and stare when they see me.
Khalid grabs a wooden practice sword from a rack and throws it at me. I barely catch it.
"Defend yourself," he says.
"What? I don't know how to—"
He attacks.
I stumble backward, barely getting the wooden sword up in time to block his strike. The impact sends shocks through my arms.
"Again," Khalid says, and attacks from a different angle.
This time I don't block fast enough. His sword catches me in the ribs. Not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to prove a point.
I fall to my knees, gasping.
"Get up," Khalid orders.
"I need a minute—"
"The enemy won't give you a minute. Get up."
I force myself to stand, gripping the practice sword with sweaty hands.
"Why are you doing this?" I ask. "I'm not a warrior."
"No. You're a target. Every faction in the Empire knows about you now. Assassins are probably already planning how to kill you." His dark eyes bore into mine. "You have a choice: learn to fight, or die the moment you leave this palace."
"I didn't ask for any of this!"
"Neither did I. But here we are." He raises his sword again. "Now defend yourself, or I'll show you exactly how easily someone could kill you."
He attacks, and this time I manage to block. Barely.
We train for hours. I fall so many times I lose count. My arms feel like they're on fire. Sweat pours down my face. Every part of my body hurts.
Khalid shows no mercy. No encouragement. Just cold, brutal training.
By midday, I can barely lift the practice sword.
"Again," Khalid says.
"I can't." My voice breaks. "Please, I just need—"
"Again!"
Something inside me snaps.
"No!" I throw the practice sword at his feet. "I'm not doing this anymore! You want to train me? Try treating me like a human being instead of a—a problem you're being forced to deal with!"
The entire training yard goes silent. Every soldier stops to watch.
Khalid stares at me, his expression unreadable.
Then he does something I don't expect. He picks up my discarded sword and hands it back to me.
"You're right," he says quietly. "You are a problem. The biggest problem I've ever been given." He pauses. "But you're also brave. Stupid, but brave. You stood up to me in front of my entire guard."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"It's a fact. Now pick up the sword."
"Why should I?"
"Because three men just entered the palace grounds carrying weapons they shouldn't have. And they're heading straight for your chambers."
My blood runs cold. "What?"
"The first assassination attempt." Khalid's hand goes to his real sword. "I told you—you're a target now. Question is: are you going to hide and hope I save you? Or are you going to learn to save yourself?"
He tosses me the practice sword one more time.
This time, I catch it without hesitation.