I had always thought asha were sorted according to the elemental magic they wielded—there would be Fire asha and Water asha, who would specialize in Fire and Water magic, respectively. Books called Taki of the Silk a Fire asha because she had set fire to the beard of a man who had insulted her in King Marrus’s royal court at Highgaard, for example.
“But that wasn’t the case at all. Most asha are well-versed in different kinds of elemental magic, so to call one a Wind asha would be misleading, for they can use Earth and Water and Fire and Wood magic just as well.”
The girl was hard at work, emptying the contents of the cauldrons now that she had taken samples of each in her phials. The tauvri drew close, prodded at one of the discarded pots with a clawed paw, and shuddered.
“There were asha who could dance and sing but whose command of the runes were minimal enough that they would be useless in a real fight. Lady Shadi fell into this category. I don’t think anyone would have expected her to go out and do battle. They often earn the most money for their asha-ka, and they are the most likely to have patrons outside of the Willows who would further finance their careers in the arts. It’s not unusual for them to wind up being wives of powerful rulers and noblemen. This ensured that those in power would always look favorably on asha.
“There were asha who were known for their expertise in battle rather than onstage. Althy was this type. She could wield the runes with ease, and I have seen her win a match against three Deathseekers at once.
“What few people know of are the asha who are highly skilled in politics, in management. They often wind up managing their own asha-ka, and they have the most influence. Mistress Parmina is one and—though she would never admit it—so is Polaire. And then there are those who can sense magic, though not enough to command them. They often become ateliers and apothecaries and hairdressers instead, easily discernible by their purple hearts.
“Dark asha are the grunts of the system. We do the most important work—raising and banishing daeva—but we rarely receive acclaim for it. We are more likely to be known for our mistakes than our successes. Lady Mykaela had summoned and put down daeva for the greater part of a decade, and yet she will always be known as the bone witch who had bespelled a king, one who had her heart taken as punishment.”
She upended the last of the large pots. We watched it mix with the waves, the seawater diluting its colors until we could no longer distinguish it from the rest of the surf.
“And then there’s me,” she added.
19
Life after my khahar-de changed. Aside from my usual lessons, I was now also obliged to attend some of the parties the asha went to at least twice or thrice a week, which gave me even less time to myself. I didn’t see Fox as often, and I grew to rely on his steady presence in my mind, because it was better than nothing at all. I was encouraged by Lady Mykaela to call her and the others “sister,” although my dislike for Zoya prevented me from ever saying this to her face. I was also encouraged to call Mistress Parmina “Mother,” but I found that equally difficult and never did so unless she prompted me to.
Although I could not draw other kinds of runes, Lady Hami began to teach me the combat stances asha used—I had to recognize and understand the movements they made when they drew in their magic, even though I couldn’t use them.
“Tell me everything you know about runes,” she demanded as I stood shivering in the cold. We were outside Ankyo, in an open field used for Runic training, to minimize the injuries and damages that came with the territory. I was clad only in a short tunic and very thin pants my instructor called a sirwal, which did nothing to keep out the chill of the morning. Lady Hami was dressed no better than I was but ignored the morning cold.
“There are three thousand characters in the Runic language,” I narrated, my teeth chattering. “But only five hundred runes of the old language are known today. Of these, only two hundred runes are used for magic—no one yet knows how to make use of the other three hundred. There are ten words associated with meditation and healing, thirty for Fire magic, thirty-five for Water, thirty-seven for Wind, twenty-nine for Wood, thirty-one for Earth, twenty-five for Metal, and three for Dark magic. The more complicated the rune drawn, the more powerful a spell it can—”
“That’s enough. You’ve been paying attention to your lessons, but theory is useless without practical applications.” With one finger, Lady Hami sketched out the rune for Wither in the air, an aspect of Wood magic. It was roughly the size of her head, and it dissolved easily as soon as she directed her will downward.
The grass around us started to decay. It spread out like a disease, until we stood in a brown circle roughly a yard across.
“Now spot the difference.” Lady Hami flung her arms out above her as high as she could and then brought them back down. She drew the Wither rune in this manner, so that this time, the symbol was as large as she was, shining a bright, sickly green light.
The circle of decay around us spread farther, five times the size of the original.
“The bigger you draw the rune, the more damage it can cause,” she said. “You would expect, then, that bigger runes are always better when in battle, yes? But that is not always the case.” She whipped out an arm, punching at the air for a few seconds, and three small holes popped up, one after the other, alongside the large decayed circle, so that from above, it resembled a dog’s paw.
“Or perhaps this.” She gestured, this time drawing the Rot rune, and the circle around us sank to a lower level than the rest of the ground. She sketched out Rot and Mud next, weaving both runes together, and a large patch of land beside me turned into sticky quicksand. She did it again, rushing her movements so that the runes were poorly drawn, like bad handwriting. Another area of the ground roughly the same size as the quicksand appeared, more solid than the first—a fact Lady Hami demonstrated by deliberately stepping onto it. Her boot sank an inch or so but went no deeper.
“There is no point in drawing so large a rune when someone could get off three smaller runes and incapacitate you before you can complete the spell. But there is no point in attacking with three smaller runes if they do little damage and allow your opponent to finish. There is also no point in writing your runes poorly, as slovenly written runes to make quicksand will not make it quicksand. Some runes do more damage but take longer to create. Every fight is unique. There is no blueprint for opponents, and you must learn to decide quickly in the course of a battle—or you will be dead.”
“But I c-can’t do any of these.”
“On the contrary, you know three Dark runes and then ten more.”
I stared at her. “But those runes are for healing and for meditation. I don’t know how—”
“Ah, so now you know better than I which runes to use in a fight, little chitterling? You have suddenly mastered the craft after only half a lesson?”