You would think that Lady Mykaela would rush to my defense, but she was strangely silent on the matter, content to look the other way every time the old woman would abuse her authority. Lady Shadi was kind but did the same. Kana and Farhi were powerless to do anything—the former was sympathetic, and since the latter looked at magic as a kind of sin, the mistress’s actions were redundant. I felt like I had no one looking out for me at the Valerian, and I even began to resent Lady Mykaela for it.
Fox remained the one bright spot of my days. He would stand patiently in front of the Valerian for hours, if only to let me know he was close by. Sometimes he would explore the city, preferring this over staying at the lodgings Lady Mykaela had arranged for him. Whenever I was sent on another one of Mistress Parmina’s errands, he would accompany me without anyone else knowing. He learned the lay of the city quicker than I had, taking time to roam the streets and commit many of the shops’ locations to memory, so that we were never lost on our way to the same shop twice. After my initial frustration over the old asha’s demands had faded, I realized I actually began looking forward to each trip. It was the only time I could spend with Fox.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked after one such errand to the sweetshop to pick up sugar cake. Sometimes when the list of things to do was overwhelming, Fox and I would divide up the tasks so we could return to the asha-ka with more than enough time to spare. Mistress Parmina had taken to falling asleep while she waited, and I knew from experience that to wake her was tantamount to suicide. I loitered outside the house with my brother instead, watching passersby. At this time of the afternoon, there were always people around, and I learned to distinguish between the maids doing errands for their own houses and the apprentice asha that bustled back and forth between lessons.
“Why would I be angry, Tea?” Fox sounded genuinely puzzled.
“Because I was afraid of you for a little bit.” His death had always felt like a barrier between us, like it prevented the closeness we had once shared.
“I think that, given our situation, that’s rather understandable, don’t you think?”
“Not if this was all my fault to start with.”
“I don’t want you saying that ever again.” Fox was firm. “You are not to blame here. And if you’re staying in Kion solely for my sake—”
“No!” I said it more forcefully than I wanted to, and he looked startled. “No, I don’t want to leave Ankyo. I…I want to do this. I really do.”
Fox eyed the entrance leading into the Valerian. “Even with the old prune inside?”
“Fox!”
“Isn’t she? She looks like an old fruit left to dry out in the sun for so long that it grew hungry and tried eating its own face.”
“Fox!” I was giggling. A novice hurrying past paused long enough to shoot us dirty looks, and I reeled in my laughter. “It’s you I’m worried about, Fox. It must be so tiresome for you, having to follow me around—”
“I don’t mind. I haven’t been as idle as you think. If you want to stay, then I’ll stay with you for as long as you want. And I’m sorry for making you afraid. This is new to me too.”
“Are you trying to apologize for my apology?” I demanded. It was Fox’s turn to laugh, and it was infectious. We stood there giggling until Mistress Parmina stuck her head out a window and yelled down at us to shut up.
“You must think me too fastidious, listing an asha’s hua in such detail every time I talk about one,” she said. “Some people assume that asha care only about their appearances, when that is the furthest thing from the truth. A hua collection is as personal and as private as toiletries or underclothes and as distinctive as a face or a voice. We can identify a particular asha simply by looking at her dress, for no one would think of wearing the same hua. To put on someone else’s would be an invasion of her privacy, like stealing into her house or secretly assuming her identity. Lady Mykaela was born near the Swiftsea, and so she wears water motifs on her hua to remind her of home. Lady Shadi is fond of peach and coral, and her father raised birds for a living, hence her preference for doves and the like. Mistress Parmina wears fortune runes on hers for luck. And as for me—”
The cauldron before us belched foul smoke. I stood downwind, but it did little to ease the fumes. She stoked the flames underneath it and added more wood to encourage the fires.
She ran a hand down her own dress, fingers stroking at the head of the dragon embroidered on her waist like it was a favored pet. Its body was still concealed underneath her waist wrap, but I fancied I could see the head of another dragon there.
She dipped a wooden ladle into the black concoction and spooned out the topaz-colored bezoar.
When she spoke again, her voice sounded far away.
“And that is why what I did was such a violation of Lady Shadi’s trust.”
8
Over a year after I first arrived at the Valerian in Ankyo, nothing about my situation had changed, save that Lady Mykaela’s visits to the asha-ka decreased over time, Mistress Parmina’s petty indignities increased, and I was nearly fourteen. I was still an indentured servant, and the old woman made it clear I was to be that for some time. Lady Mykaela stayed only infrequently at the house, constantly rushing off to different parts of the kingdom. I suspected she was struggling with something important, but she never made mention of her troubles. I was at that time of my life where I felt both overworked and foolish, and I was too caught up in my own misery to inquire further.
The first inkling I had of her situation was a conversation I overheard by accident between her and Mistress Parmina. I was scrubbing furiously at the floors beside the old woman’s room because she was fond of smoking shisha wherever she went. The soot and ashes left in her wake clung stubbornly to the ground, and it took several spongings for the black stains to disappear.
“Sakmeet died last week,” Lady Mykaela said. “She had been ill for a number of months and could not attend to her duties. I had to put down the zarich in her stead. The Deathseekers still hunt for the savul.”
“Losing Sakmeet is a heavy blow,” Mistress Parmina agreed. “The Dark asha’s numbers dwindle daily with little to replenish them. There is only you and the girl left. You are not strong enough to keep up this charade, and I do not like that you have very little time in between to heal.”
“I will be strong enough, Mother.”
“I would much rather you be weak and safe than strong and dead. There are reports that the people of the lie breed in Kion, and so we must be ever watchful. The King of Istera has sent me word; he has rooted out a sect of Faceless in his kingdom. But their leader, Aenah, is missing. His spies tell him that she may be in Ankyo.”
“And what of the other two Faceless leaders?”
“Druj is rumored to be stirring up trouble in the Yadosha city-states; for the moment, he is their problem. Usij has declared war on Daanoris but remains holed up somewhere in their mountains, prepared to defend his stronghold there. I am thankful that none of them harbor much affection for the other; it would be much more difficult to stave them off should they pose a united front. Are you sure about the wretchling?”