The Bone Witch (The Bone Witch #1)

Mistress Parmina often woke when I was done, and together with Lady Shadi, we would make a small offering of water and bread to a small shrine set up in the main room we received our guests in before two abstract idols that symbolized Blade that Soars and his lover, Dancing Wind. Mistress Parmina had never shown any inclination for the old gods or for the Great World Spirit or for any of the other major devotions in the months I lived at the Valerian. Lady Shadi explained to me that this was done at every asha-ka regardless of their affiliation, out of tradition and respect for Vernasha, the Willows founder, who had also been a devotee of Dancing Wind.

After the offering, we went our separate ways. Ula usually arrived after breakfast, and she and Mistress Parmina would retire to her room to sort out the asha-ka’s financial accounts and tally up any expenses and earnings House Valerian took in from the day before. Lady Shadi would leave for the dancing hall to rehearse for upcoming dances. Sometimes she would accompany me to one of the studios whenever she had her own lessons to attend. “We never stop learning,” she said, “and to dance or sing or play an instrument, we must always seek to improve and be better, never too stagnate. Asha will continue to take lessons from instructors throughout the course of their careers, until they become masters themselves or retire. There is always something new to discover every day, no matter how skilled you are.”

Lady Shadi would know. Though she never boasted of her own merits, she was one of the best dancers in Ankyo and was frequently asked to star in one of the several performances always taking place in the Willows, especially during the spring and early summer when they were common. She was guaranteed a role in the upcoming darashi oyun, the most popular dance in Ankyo, performed during the spring equinox, which is around the same time most kingdoms conduct their heartsglass ceremonies. This was also the dance that Zoya had been envious of Lady Shadi for, the reason she had used me to cause embarrassment to the Valerian.

My first lesson for the day was my meditation class, where Instructor Kaa taught me breathing exercises designed to soothe any volatile thoughts and focus my mind for the day ahead. She even taught me to temporarily block out Fox’s presence in my head, giving me my first real privacy since raising him. The first time I succeeded, Fox came hammering at the doors of the studio, alarmed, demanding to know if I was all right.

After my meditation sessions ended, I visited Instructor Merina, who taught me the more refined arts. These included flower arrangements, reading and composing poetry, color coordination, and formal court etiquette.

My singing lessons came next, which I was terrible at. While my teachers have praised my ear for music, nothing I did helped me modulate my voice to follow the melody I did hear. Instructor Mina was understandably disappointed in me and soon deemed me unsuitable for important singing engagements. But the lessons were a requirement of asha training, and I had to attend her classes anyway. Fortunately, she placed me in a class with other apprentices and made us all sing in chorus, and so my poor attempts at warbling were not as noticeable.

I returned home for lunch, the heaviest meal of the day. The Valerian had no cooks, and so a nearby restaurant prepared food catered to our tastes. A typical fare may include a savory eggplant and tomato stew they call the bademjan or slices of grilled lamb and beef garnished with onions, lemon juice, and saffron or pomegranate-walnut soup. They were almost always accompanied by rice—sour-lime biryani one day, perhaps fried basmati tahdig or jeweled rice at another—served with nuts and an herb salad. Asha and apprentices do not normally eat large suppers—they believe the feeling of fullness that comes after makes one languid and unable to entertain visitors in their best capacity. I felt bad for Kana and Farhi, who still had to make do with gruel and a bit of fish. But as Lady Shadi ate very little, I secretly gave them what she’d left untouched. I knew what it was like to go hungry. Farhi sometimes refused her portions; I think she didn’t want to be constantly beholden to a group of people her devotion disapproved of. The food never went to waste, for Kana was only too eager to dispose of what Farhi turned down.

My musical training continued after lunch, where Instructor Teti taught me how to play the setar, the most basic of the stringed instruments and the most popular choice among asha. I fared better at this than I did at singing and could play the simplest songs after only a month. I also showed some promise with the tar, a drum you held in one hand while beating it with the other.

My combat training was next, and that was easily the most difficult part of my day. Instructor Hami was a hard taskmaster and gave me no quarter despite my lack of experience. She put me through the most grueling exercises. I had to run the length of the hall several times, made to jump with heavy stones chained to my feet, and pulled myself up thin metal bars that connected one wall to the one across from it. Soon I had a wooden practice sword to call my own, though I wound up getting hit more often than I hit opponents.

Sometimes Instructor Hami trained us in a group, where we went through a series of fighting forms at her command. It was hard work, and I always felt as limp as a rag when my lessons ended, but I would often stay behind after classes and watch the more experienced novices perform. Dark asha could not use any other runes, but most asha have no limits selecting the kinds of elements they were good at and specializing accordingly.

Many of the mock fights that took place were educational to watch and almost always entertaining. To the untrained eye, it resembled dancing; some students drew runes with large, overarching gestures; a few kept their movements close to their body, sketching out the symbols in the air in quick succession; some did a combination of both. Fire runes appeared to be the easiest to call among the apprentices, and many a session was interrupted because of a few stray fireballs. Once, an overly enthusiastic student set the whole room on fire, but before anyone else could panic, Instructor Hami whipped up a hand, crooked a finger, and sent a huge wall of water cascading down onto the flames, leaving everyone but her soaked to the bone.

Despite all the mishaps, I could not help but feel envious. It looked like so much fun!

My history lessons gave me a short respite from all the hard training. With a dozen other apprentices, I learned more about the geography and politics of not only the eight major kingdoms but also of the city-states of Yadosha and the major cultures and prominent rulers of each. I learned of how the kingdom of Yadosha had once comprised the entire continent, and that bickering among the royal descendants led dissenters to form Odalia and, eventually, Kion. I learned of the Five Great Heroes, the first warriors to confront and successfully defeat daeva. I also learned the Runic language, to recognize the two hundred kinds of runes that asha used for combat and magic.

Next came my dancing lessons, and they quickly became my favorite part of the day.