“Oh, let’s not talk about such worrying things,” Caddie, one of the other asha, begged. “It all sounds so frightening to me!”
The conversation drifted to other matters, and soon the other politicians began lecturing the asha on the history of their countries. Our history lessons had included such matters, but we nodded our heads like we have never heard them before.
Councilor Ludvig leaned back while the others talked, scowling into his tea. The others were occupied, so I angled closer to him. “What makes you think that some of the kingdoms could be invaded in the near future?” I asked.
He started—I don’t think he remembered I was even in the room. He eyed me suspiciously at first, but my sincerity must have shown on my face.
“Peacetime does not excuse the reality that there are numerous factions there out for blood. For as long as the problem of the daeva exist, the Faceless will use them to breed fear and terror among the people.”
“What should the kings do instead?”
“Send all available spies and scouts out to gather intelligence as to the daeva’s whereabouts first. Once located, gather all Dark asha—well, you and Lady Mykaela—add a few more asha and Deathseekers for additional firepower, and strike out. To have every able Deathseeker scouring the lands hoping to stumble into a savul by accident is a waste of time and ability. It doesn’t matter that the people clamor for a show of force. Pomp and fanfare for so few results will not help defend a kingdom, only expose its weaknesses to the unseen enemy.”
“That sounds logical, but why won’t they listen to you?”
The old man snorted again. “Because they think they know better. Kings nowadays play more to the politics than to any real strategies. Kion is more welcoming when it comes to Dark asha like you, my dear, but other kingdoms aren’t as open-minded. Bone witches passing through their territories does not make kings popular. Deathseekers guarding their borders satisfies their need for security, however false it may be.”
I felt disheartened. I had nurtured the foolish thought that being an official asha meant that people would be more inclined to look favorably on me, even if Lady Mykaela’s reception had been anything but.
“Don’t worry your pretty head over it, my dear,” the old man said kindly. “You Dark asha have my respect and my trust, and I wish that counted as much as it used to. Tell me more about your lessons. How many runes of the Dark have they taught you?”
Councilor Ludvig started coming more often to the cha-khana after that. Despite my busy workload, I always did my best to spend at least an hour with him. Because he usually only asked for me, our meetings were less of a party and more like my lessons. He instructed me on politics, geography, and military history and taught me more about strategy than any instructor I had.
“But why can’t you flush out all the other Faceless?” I asked him at one time. “If you know where their strongholds are, shouldn’t it be only a matter of time?”
“It’s not as easy as that,” Councilor Ludvig said. “It’s easy to imagine them concentrated within one small area instead of being dispersed over a population of people who have little idea of whom they are truly fraternizing with. They do not build their defenses with high walls and fortifications, Tea. Even Druj conceals his fortress well in his mountains, and it would be difficult to lay siege. As for Aenah and Usij, they build their defenses with a population of innocents for a shield, which is a considerably more difficult hurdle to overcome. It took us twenty years to cobble together a comprehensive report to capture Aenah’s men, and still that witch escapes us! I have always advocated for King Rendorvik to train more spies. He acquiesced occasionally, though he always considered it a dishonorable trade. Dishonorable!” Councilor Ludvig snorted. “There is no dishonor to winning a war!”
? ? ?
Once or twice a month, the Heartforger’s assistant would ask for my presence at the Snow Pyre. A Dark asha’s heartsglass was in high demand, and many ingredients could be gleaned from its depths. The old Heartforger himself, the boy said, was frequently away on trips; his services were constantly sought after even outside of Kion.
I was willing to provide what his assistant needed, but I also felt awkward around him. Now that I knew his true identity, I didn’t know what name to refer him by. I could no longer call him by his royal honorific, so should I call him Lord Khalad instead? Or Junior, as the Heartforger had called him?
“Khalad would do,” he said calmly. “The forger calls me Junior as a means to distance myself from the royal house, but sometimes I think I need to remember who I was to have an idea of who I should be.”
“How did you…?”
Khalad smiled, nodded at my heartsglass. “You asha do not have the monopoly on reading them.”
“But not to that degree of specificity.”
“You mean you can’t do that?” He sounded surprised. “My master said I was unusually perceptive, but I always assumed it wasn’t uncommon. Take a deep breath.”
He touched my heartsglass and I felt a quick twinge, like someone had pricked me with a tiny needle made from ice.
—the gaping mouth grinned malice at me; from within the depths of those empty eye sockets, something glinted. The skeleton gave me no time to recover but lunged—
When he took his hand away, I saw a wispy thread of smoke winding around his knuckles, disappearing into his own heartsglass when he pressed his fingers against it.
I was shaking. For a moment, it felt real, like I was confronting the skeleton all over again.
“Thank you. True fear is harder to find than you might think,” he said conversationally, patting my hand. “I visit the army for most of that.” He’d pulled a lot of memories from me these last few months—memories of seeing my brother rise up from the grave, memories of Lady Mykaela summoning the taurvi, memories of meeting the oracle.
“You’ve never asked me about them.”
“About what?”
“About the skeleton? Or my brother or the taurvi? You see my memories as well as I can every time you take them out.”
“I do, but your memories are only important to me in forging hearts. Their importance to you is your own business and no one else’s. I do not ask, and I share them with no one else.” He flexed his fingers. “I’ll need one more, and then that’s enough for today.”
“You impose limitations on how many you can draw from me, but you don’t do the same for yourself.”
He smiled sheepishly. “Too many hearts, not enough memories. Master says I overexert myself, but maybe it’s for the better. I have something of a temper. This will only take a—”
From inside his hood, the boy’s face hardened. “Your kind killed my mother,” he snapped. He turned and fled back into the confines of the crowd but not before his heavy cloak shifted and I saw his—
Khalad stopped. He leaned back.
“Well,” he said.
“Is something wrong?” I asked nervously.