He does not look so formidable, I lied to myself, staring at the
warped, decaying body before me.
I can defeat his will. I will break him. It
is a wonder what Mykkie had ever seen in him.
It was not the first time I had deceived myself in this manner. Neither was
this the first time I had raised King Vanor from the grave. But if I repeated
that mantra enough times, I thought I could finally believe my
words.
The dead king refused to look at me, his eyes distant. The royal crypts were
built to strike both fear and awe in those who visited, but I had grown
accustomed to the stone faces looking down at me with quiet scrutiny from their
high precipices. But King Vanor’s continued silence unnerved me every time—more
than I cared to admit.
“A wise philosopher once said,” Fox drawled from the shadows, “that doing the
same thing over and over again while expecting a different result is the mark of
a fool.”
“Why do I bring you along?”
“Well, a wise philosopher once said—”
“Shut up.” My brother had no need to tell me my quest was hopeless. Numerous
Dark asha, all more experienced than me, had made the attempt. But I had to do
something.
“You’re in a worse mood than usual. Did Kalen chew you out at practice
again?”
“If you don’t like it here, why not find some women in the city to flirt with
instead?”
“Not in Oda—” He caught himself. “None of your business. Can we get this over
with?”
I turned back to the corpse. “Where are you keeping Mykaela’s
heartsglass?”
No answer. The colossi statues guarding the catacombs were likelier to
respond than this infernal sod of a king.
“Answer me! What have you done to her heartsglass? Where did you keep it? Why
do you hate her so much?” My headache worsened. Somewhere in the back of my
head, I was aware of a shadow thrashing about, sensing my anger. I saw a vision
of water, green and murky, before it faded out of view.
I took a deep breath and let it out carefully. The ache lightened and the
shadow retreated as I recovered my calm.
“This is a waste of time.” Fox folded his arms across his chest. My brother
looked to be in peak physical health, though he was no more alive than the royal
noble standing before us.
Their similarities ended there; there was barely enough skin and sinew
clinging to Vanor to pass for human. That was my doing. The first few times I
resurrected him, I had been respectful, taking great pains to restore his body
to how it appeared when he was alive.
Now I allowed him only enough muscle and flesh to move his jaw.
“He’s not going to talk, Tea. You know that, I know that, and he definitely
knows that.”
“I will
make him talk.” Many years ago, my sister-asha had fallen in
love with this wretched excuse of a ruler. In exchange for her unwavering
devotion, he had taken her heartsglass and hidden it so well that no one had
been able to find it.
And now, more than a decade later, Mykaela was dying. She could no longer
return to Kion. Her health had deteriorated to the point where she had to remain
near her heartsglass, still hidden somewhere within Odalia, here in the city of
Kneave. It was hard enough to be a bone witch; that she’d survived for this long
was a miracle in itself.
I grabbed what was left of the king’s shoulders, pulling him toward me. He
reeked of death and obstinacy. “Answer me!” My voice echoed off the columns.
“Didn’t you love her even a little? Or are you so petty that you’d allow her to
suffer for the rest of her years? She’s
dying. What grudge do you harbor
to hate her this much?”
“Tea.”
I froze. So did Fox.
I had told no one else about my weekly excursions to the royal crypts. Not my
friend Polaire, who would have boxed my ears if she’d known, nor Mistress
Parmina, who would doom me to a life cleaning outhouses. Only Fox was privy to
my secret, which he had agreed to keep despite his own misgivings. And Mykaela
was the last person I wanted to find out.
She had aged more rapidly during the last few years since she had taken me
under her wing. There was more gray in her golden hair, more lines on her face.
Her back stooped slightly, like she struggled under a heavy burden. She had
taken to using a cane everywhere she went, unsure of her own feet.
“Mykaela,” I stammered, “you’re not supposed to be here.”
“I could say the same for you,” she answered, but her eyes were fixed on King
Vanor, her pain obvious. He watched her gravely, without shame or guilt, and my
anger rose again. How many raisings had my sister-asha endured, forced to watch
while this king refused to speak?
I raised my finger to sketch out the rune that would send Vanor back to the
world of the dead, but Mykaela lifted a hand. “Vanor,” she said quietly, “it’s
been a while.”
The decaying figure said nothing. His eyes studied her, savage and hungry and
ill suited for such an impassive face.
“I apologize for my wayward apprentice. She has been willful and intractable
since her admission to my asha-ka and has shown little improvement since. Please
return to your rest. Tea, let him go.”
Mykaela’s words were a steel knife through my heart. Stuttering apologies, I
completed the spell and watched as King Vanor’s body crumbled back into dust in
his open coffin. Even as his features dissolved, King Vanor never once looked
away from Mykaela’s face.
“Close the lid and move the stone back in place,” she said. I could detect
the anger behind her calm. “I would tell King Telemaine to seal his coffin, but
even that might not stop you. Whatever possessed you to let her do this,
Fox?”
Fox shrugged, grinning like an abashed schoolboy. “I’m her familiar. It comes
with the territory.”
“Being her familiar is no excuse for being an imbecile! And you! What
possessed you to summon dead royalty in the middle of the night?”
“I wanted to help.” The excuse sounded weaker when made to Mykaela than to
Fox. “I thought that I could control daeva now! You said no Dark asha’s ever
done that before! That’s why…why I…”
Mykaela sighed. “And so by that logic, you think you are different from Dark
asha of the past? What you have in ability, Tea, you lack in wisdom. You cannot
compel the dead if they are not willing. Wasn’t that the first lesson I taught
you after you raised Fox from his grave? Arrogance is not a virtue,
sister.”
I looked down, blinking back tears. Was I arrogant to want to save her?
Unlike Fox, Dark asha and all those with a silver heartsglass cannot be raised
from the dead, and that permanence frightened me. “I’m sorry. I want to help.
But I feel so powerless.”
I heard her move closer, felt her hand on my head, stroking my
hair.
“It’s not such a bad thing, to feel powerless sometimes. It teaches us that
some situations are inevitable and that we should spend what little time we have
in the company of the people that matter most. Do you understand me,
Tea?”
“Yes.” I wept.
“Tea, I’m not dead yet.” A finger nudged at my chin. “I would appreciate it
if you stopped acting like I was. I do not give up so easily, but we must adopt
other means.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It is only an apology if you mean it. This is the last time you will be
summoning anyone in the royal crypts, no matter how noble you think your actions
are. Promise me.”
“I promise,” I mumbled.
“The same is true for you too, Fox.”
“I promise, milady.”
“Good. Now help me up the stairs. My legs aren’t what they used to
be.”
Fox reached down and scooped Mykaela into his arms. “It’s the fastest way,”
he explained. “You’ve expended enough energy yelling at us.”
The older asha chuckled. “Yes, that’s always been rather tiresome now that I
think about it. Perhaps you should direct your energies toward more productive
tasks so I can tire less.”
“How did you know we were here?” I asked.
“I’ve taken to wandering at night. I looked in on Tea, but her room was
empty. I detected a shifting of runes nearby and merely followed it to its
source.”
“I didn’t mean to make you worry.” The staircase led back to the Odalian
palace gardens. For the past two months, Fox and I had been King Telemaine’s
guests, traveling the kingdom and tending to the sickly. Most of the people here
fear and dislike bone witches, though with lesser fervor than before. It is not
easy to hold a grudge against someone who has nursed you back to
health.
At the king’s invitation, Mykaela had taken up residence in the castle
indefinitely. But every day finds her weaker, and I feared the palace would
serve as her hospice.
“There are many other concerns, Tea. Likh has a new case pending, hasn’t
he?”
The asha association had rejected Likh’s appeal to join, but Polaire had
dredged up an obscure law that permitted Deathseekers to train in the Willows
until they turned fifteen, which was Likh’s current age.
Mykaela glanced over Fox’s shoulder, back at the catacombs, then turned
away.
She still loves him, I thought, and fury burned through me like a
fever. “I’m really sorry, Mykkie.”
She smiled. “As I said, only if you mean it, Tea. Get some rest. We’ve got a
busy day ahead.”
* * *
I listened until my brother’s footsteps faded before sneaking out of my room
a second time. I opened the doors of my mind to welcome the hidden shadows; they
wrapped around my core, creating a barrier that had for many months prevented
Fox from discovering the other sentience I hoarded away, like a sweet vintage I
had no intentions of sharing. I couldn’t. Not yet.
Chief waited for me at the stables. A lone woman on a horse caused no outcry,
and we rode undisturbed out of the city, into a copse of trees that hid us
further from view. I climbed off my stallion, told him to await my return, and
moved deeper into the forest, into a small clearing that served as a rendezvous
point.
I reached out once more to the moving darkness. The scar on my right thigh
was hot to the touch. It burned in the cold air, but I felt no
pain.
Despite its size, the beast was made of stealth and shadows. Where there was
once nothing, it now stood beside me, as if summoned from the air. Three pairs
of hooded eyes gazed down at me, forked tongues dancing. Its wings extended, and
twilight rolled over me, soothing and pleasant.
Master? It was a voice but not in the manner we think of voices. Our
bond gave us an understanding that went beyond language.
I reached out. Its scaly hide was a combination of coarse bark and rough
sandpaper.
Play? It sat, unmoving, as I climbed up its back.
Yes.
In the blink of an eye, we were soaring across the sky, rolling meadows and
fields of green passing below us.
Turn, I thought, testing the limits of
my control, as I have over the last several months. The
azi complied,
wings curving toward the horizon. I laughed, the sound joyous and free against
the wind, and one head dipped briefly to nuzzle at my cheek,
purring.
This is not selfishness, I told myself,
but a responsibility.
Mykaela was partly right; I was arrogant and overconfident, but I was not like
other Dark asha. No other Dark asha had been able to tame the
azi. And
riding with it on quiet nights meant it was not rampaging through
cities.
But I also knew I had to keep my companion a secret. Raising a dead king was
a far lesser sin than taking a daeva as a familiar.
I shall conquer this,
I thought and, in doing so, sealed my fate.
Why are we at Daanoris?” I asked again when she paused. “Why won’t you
tell me?”
“Because I need you as a witness as well as a storyteller, Bard. You will
not remain unbiased for long if I supply you with foresight.”
“You summoned me. I travel with you. My opinions will make little
difference.”
“You have a reputation for impartiality, Bard. I trust your judgment and
my prudence. And here in Santiang, there is someone I would like you to
meet.”
“Who?”
“They call him the Heartforger.” She flashed me a quick mischievous grin.
“I find it difficult to believe you will be so eager to rule in my favor after
the endless stretch of corpses I summoned in my wake. Or after informing you of
my intentions to take Daanoris. It is not easy to mask your repugnance. Why have
I come to Daanoris? Perhaps simply because I can. Has that not crossed your
mind?”
“Tea,” Kalen admonished, his voice low and amused.
She laughed. “Let me continue my story while we still have the
luxury.”
The shadows grew across the trees. The daeva melted slowly into the
forest, moving silently despite their sizes. No other sound passed through the
woods—no chirping of birds nor chatter of squirrels. There was only the wind
whispering through the leaves, the crackling of fire, and the sound of the
asha’s voice.
