“Here is one.” And Lady Mykaela placed a hand on my shoulder.
She led us to one house in particular. Only a peculiar symbol painted on a wooden sign out front distinguished it from several others along that same street. Beyond the initial doorway was a long strip of corridor that led into the inner rooms. The asha paused at a spot where the cobbled ground ended and the carefully tamped-down earthen floor I would learn was common in all asha-ka began. She took off her shoes and placed them in a small wooden cubicle built for that purpose and signaled for us to do the same.
The narrow passageway continued into an airy room that was both a reception hall and a transition place between the rest of the rooms and the street outside. Thick rugs of beautiful geometric designs lined the walls, and the floor was similarly covered with a thinner, less intricate carpet. The ceiling was higher than I had anticipated, with sloping curves that formed a hollowed out dome at its center. A small screen stood at the farthest end of the room, preventing visitors from seeing the inner chambers within, and a towering flower display was arranged on a table before it. A steel coal brazier lay in one corner, blazing merrily.
Two people rose to meet us as we entered. The first was a very old woman, her skin stretched so tautly over her bones that she looked nearly like a skeleton herself. Her hair was completely white and carefully set against the back of her skull in a severe bun. She reminded me of an aged tamra cat’s, with her triangularly shaped face and pointed chin. Her cheeks were sunken in, but her eyes were a bright and intelligent green. She wore a hua even more elegant and elaborate than Lady Mykaela’s; it was an abstract design of pale amber against a deep-brown background and an olive-green waist wrap with actual emeralds sewn into the gold-embroidered silk, matching the color of her eyes. She held a large, ornate fan with gold calligraphy that she kept snapping open and closed every few seconds.
Beside her was a round-faced girl wearing a simple peach robe over a gray tunic. Her dark hair was plaited into two braids, the ends of which traveled past her hips. She was remarkably pretty and looked curiously first at me and then at Fox.
But the older woman ignored us, addressing the asha instead. “And what is a man doing inside our asha-ka?” She had a high, penetrating voice that yowled out words rather than spoke them.
“It can’t be helped, Mother. He comes with her.”
The old woman refused to look at me. “Highly improper, highly improper. There are no rooms available for men here, whether they be wretched familiars or not. You know that, Mykaela.”
“The Owajin boardinghouse is only a block away from the district, Mother. I can talk to the mistress there and set up lodgings for him.”
“Do that, but do not arrange for anything more permanent. These wretchlings of yours come and fail so often that it would cost us more in the long run. Have you brought her to the oracle?”
“Not yet, Mother.”
“I don’t see why you bring these waifs here without consulting the oracle. If they do not pass the test, then they are not welcomed here.”
“This one is different.”
“Ha! You thought the same of those other wretchlings! What you consider ‘different’ matters little to me. Your unkempt charge might burn herself out soon enough, and then we would have to shoulder that expense on top of everything. Take her to the oracle, and then we shall see.” She snapped her folding fan close one last time. “Come, Shadi.”
The girl in the peach robe shot us an apologetic look but obeyed.
“That’s your mother?” I whispered to the asha, aghast, as soon as the two had left the room.
Lady Mykaela chuckled. “I call her Mother, but we aren’t related by blood. This is the House Valerian, my asha-ka, and she is Mistress Parmina, who runs it.”
I was even more horrified. One of the books my father had bought for me dealt with the exploits of contemporary asha, and one of the warrior-maidens it told about was a woman named Parmina of the Fires. She had once served as the personal bodyguard to King Farnod, who also happened to be King Telemaine’s father and Prince Kance’s grandfather. The book talked in glorious detail of the many instances she had saved him from an assassin’s blade before leaving to head her own asha-ka. Surely this could not be the same Parmina. The tale I remembered did not match that pinched face and that thin, reedy voice.
“She is one and the same. Do not let her appearance deceive you. She is still a powerful asha in her own right, and she is also one of Kion’s best minds. She’s a bit waspish now, because it is morning and she hates to have her sleep interrupted. Let us bring you to the oracle and prove her wrong.”
“What did she mean about passing a test?” I asked once we were back out in the street. Instead of leaving the district, Lady Mykaela led us even deeper into its center. People stopped to bow low to Lady Mykaela before hurrying on. Some shot Fox and I inquisitive looks but did not linger to ask questions.
“It is a requirement for asha novices to be brought to the oracle but not to pass her test. Many who have failed the first time have gone on to become skilled spellbinders—apprentices must pass only their second tests, when they make their debut. Faceless insurgents have always been a problem, and the first test is simply our way of weeding them out.”
“But if they do not pass—”
“For different reasons, and not because they are spies. Mother, unfortunately, is highly superstitious. If the oracle does not approve of a girl at their first meeting, Mother will not accept her into the Valerian. I believe it has something to do with what the oracle herself told Mother when she was an apprentice.”
I didn’t know what to say. A part of me balked at having traveled so far only to be turned away, but another part rejoiced at the possibility that they would return me to my family if I failed.
“There are many other asha-ka who are willing to take in those who Mother rejects,” Lady Mykaela said, dispelling that last hope. “But do not worry yourself over it. I am certain you will succeed.”
“But…why would she even consider letting bone witches into her asha-ka? Aren’t we bad luck?”