The Bone Witch (The Bone Witch #1)

“I’ll join you,” Fox said, to my relief.

“That’s Kalen’s way of saying he’s off to patrol the area,” Prince Kance said after they had left. “He takes his duties as my bodyguard very seriously.”

“I know the feeling.” With my brother gone, my anxiety diminished, if only a little. “Fox has always been protective of me.”

“How has he been adjusting?”

“Surprisingly well. Nothing really bothers him for long. Even this.”

“Isn’t it difficult to be sharing each other’s thoughts all the time?”

“I can’t read his thoughts unless he’s under some extreme emotion, and the same holds true for me. It’s not as invasive as you might think. In many ways, he’s a comfort.”

I soon found myself telling the prince about my childhood in Knightscross, and he, in turn, told me a little about his own life. His mother had died when he was only five years old, and his father, while kind, was too engrossed with the kingdom’s affairs to have much time for him.

“That sounds lonely,” I sympathized.

“I can’t complain. I have good teachers and mentors. I know I can always count on friends and family like Kalen. I can’t blame my father either. He wasn’t expecting to be king.”

I remembered. “Your father had an older brother, didn’t he?”

“Yes, King Vanor. My father never liked the way my uncle treated Lady Mykaela, and he always felt guilty about that. He spent a month searching the palace from top to bottom, hunting for her heartsglass. It was his idea for me to check up on you during my stay in Ankyo, though I’m glad he did.” He made a face. “We don’t have long. We only have this room for an hour, and Empress Alyx gets worried if Kalen and I are gone for too long. Has Mistress Parmina given you leave to attend parties at the cha-khana?”

I shook my head, not trusting my words.

He smiled. “I hope we can continue to meet like this once you’ve obtained her permission—not just because my father requested it.”

I felt like my smile could stand independent from my face. “I would like that very much. How long do you intend to stay in Kion?”

“For the next year, possibly longer. Kion is our closest ally among the kingdoms, and Father thinks it would be educational for me here.” He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Thank you, Lady Tea. After days spent overseeing my father’s affairs in Kion, it feels nice to relax and talk about other matters.”

“How did the first date go?” Fox asked after we had left the Snow Pyre. “Has he asked for your hand in marriage yet, or should we have stayed longer?”

I was grateful no one else was around to see a young asha apprentice chasing her brother down the lane leading back to the Valerian, their laughter riding on the wind.





The girl showed me the polished stone she wore on another thin chain around her neck, bright and smooth. It was easy enough to overlook when set beside her heartsglass.

“I wear the seeking stone all the time,” she said. “It has saved my life on countless occasions. I will always be grateful to the Heartforger, for it was backbreaking work to change a seeking stone into one of protection. It was a precious gem worth more than my own weight in gold, yet he gave it to me without asking for compensation. Do not let the stories about him intimidate you. He is a hard man to understand because he is a man capable of strong feelings. He hides them underneath heavy layers of indifference and distrust and hopes no one else notices. He is a wise man but often sad—though I have found that both frequently go hand in hand.”





16


Rahim beamed at us as we entered—Fox and I and also Likh. “Ah, my little uchenik and her brother! What will it be for you today? Does Parminchka require a new frock? Or do you allow me to design you an original hua for the day you make your debut? It is never too late to start too early.”

I had been to Rahim’s establishment many times since that first meeting, but it was easy to feel intimidated by the man’s affectionate demeanor and his booming voice. “Actually, I was wondering if you could design something for my friend here.”

“Your brother? Yes, we can make more than hua here. The dark and somber colors he wears will not do. He shall have the most appealing of red, scarlet like a woman’s lips, so that the ladies they are encouraged to use theirs on—”

“It isn’t for Fox,” I interrupted while my brother grinned. “It’s for Likh.”

“Likh? Ah, you wish to splurge? I will give you the bargains, because Chesh has been so kind to me. The best sherminas for you, the—”

“We don’t want a shermina. We’d like a hua for him.”

Rahim looked at us. He stroked his massive beard. “A hua? But why so?”

“We—we were hoping you could make something for Likh for the darashi oyun, when the gates open for those who would like to dance before the asha’s performance.”

“Well,” the man said. “Well, well, well.”

He took a step back and gestured at us to follow him into a smaller room, away from the bustle of activity taking place outside. Nervously, we sat down on a few chairs he pulled out for us. Rahim perched on a tall stool and stared at Likh.

“You do understand,” he said slowly, his Tresean accent less pronounced, “that some asha consider this an affront, a joke made in poor taste. The association of elders surely will.”

“And that’s why I was hoping you could make it,” I said eagerly. “Everyone knows you would never make a hua just for the jest of it. Then perhaps they will take him seriously when he dances.”

“The elders would censure lesser-known ateliers for this. Even with my influence, they may still do so. What makes you think I am willing to take such chances?”

“Because you have taken such risks before,” Likh said softly. “Chesh told me your story, of when you first arrived at Kion. You were a refugee fleeing from a place that punished people like us. When you opened your own workshop, people looked at you and laughed and said a bear could not possibly know how to hold a needle, much less sew. You ignored them because you knew you could do better than the clothes they made, the designs they created. You set up shop along the smelting district because that was the only place you could afford. But you were brilliant. Everything you made was a work of art, and people noticed. You made a living by not compromising who you are. I…I want to do the same—to prove to people that I can and to prove to myself that I can.”

Rahim sighed, a rumbling sound.

“That is a pretty speech. But there is a difference between a bear who wants to sew clothes like an atelier and a boy who wishes to dance like a girl, and the difference is there are no traditions that says a bear cannot sew.”

Likh’s shoulder slumped.

“I’m the last person in this room to know anything about asha tradition,” Fox said quietly, “but I believe there’s nothing that explicitly prevents Likh from dancing either. Tea and I read all the books we could find about asha conduct.”

Rahim thought it over. “Likh, dance.”