“Stronger.” I’d thought an additional familiar would make things more exhausting for me, but the opposite was true.
“The Gorvekai have a special connection with their horses; the bond draws and provides strength for both. It is not magic, nothing that even asha understand. Only bone witches can do the same as them with Gorvekan steeds and only in death.” She watched me for a long moment, then sighed and nudged Kismet forward, and I followed.
? ? ?
“What was it like to be dead?” I asked one early summer evening while I watched my brother at practice. They had given him leave to stay at the Valerian if he wanted to—or, rather, Fox, taking Lady Hami’s suggestion, began to visit more regularly and for longer periods, and Mistress Parmina gave no protest. But Fox rarely entered the asha-ka, preferring instead to remain outside. It was a rare outing for us; Althy was at the Ankyo palace, still serving as Princess Inessa’s bodyguard, and Polaire was at the Flowing Waters cha-khana, entertaining at an important function that frowned on mere novices. Lady Mykaela and Mistress Parmina napped inside the asha-ka. I was astride Chief again. My mouth was occupied with smoked ham; I ate in small bites and constant meals nowadays, because blood and runes took strength and gave back appetite.
“Nothing and everything at once,” Fox replied and swiped with his blade at a falling leaf. It folded itself into two halves at his feet. The leaves cast a shadow on the ground, and I cast a shadow too, but though he looked more alive than he had before, Fox and Chief had none. “Colder, without feeling; grayer, without seeing. Alive but without aim. Hunger without flavor.”
I watched him batter at a bare trunk with a plain sword, glinting steel against dead bark. The pallor had long since left his face, and his legs no longer creaked and spasmed. Some days it was easier to believe that I was not a bone witch watching my creation but just a sister watching a sibling at swordplay. I closed my eyes; the bond between us was stronger than ever, and I could pinpoint with near accuracy just how far away he was from me without seeing him. I also sensed Chief below me, impatient at remaining still.
“As it should be with your familiars,” Lady Mykaela had told me. “It is the same on their end, and their instinct will always be to seek you out to protect you at the first signs of danger. That he is your brother makes the chains between you even harder to break.”
“Canter,” I told Chief. The horse whinnied and began. He pranced across the street, encircling the large oak tree that stood across from the asha-ka and then returning. I had brushed his white coat beforehand until it gleamed. Chief knew he was the best-looking horse in Ankyo and was not afraid to let everyone else know it.
“Did it hurt?” I had never asked Fox this before. Heartless Fox had been quiet and distant, always watchful and concerned. He could sound angry and sad and worried and happy, but never would his expression change to suit the emotion. Heartful Fox was different, more prone to show with his face and his eyes what his words meant, more of the brother I remembered and less of the shade that had remained.
Fox paused to think about it. “It did at first. We were patrolling the swamps that separated Odalia from Kion. News reached the king of some strange creature lurking there, feasting on nearby villages. There were bodies, half-eaten and ruined beyond recognition. Another regiment brought one to camp the day before, and I threw up the small army rations I had for breakfast all over my new boots.”
He made a face at the memory, then flicked at the small half leaf, turned it over. “I was the first one to die, I think. I was scouting ahead of my group, because I was quiet on my feet and never one to talk much, and I counted on that to see things before they see me. It didn’t matter though, because the creature was like a shadow and made no sound at all. I managed to shout out a warning before it jumped me. One swipe of the claw, shock and pain. And then nothing.”
He paused and then lifted up his shirt, and I saw the claw marks knifed across his body in three red streaks, half-healed and no longer the gaping wound it had been that night at the Snow Pyre.
“That’s horrible.” I shuddered and turned my head away, not wanting to look at the fatal injury that had claimed his life.
Fox only looked thoughtful. “I would like to face it again, for my pride if nothing else. There are days now when I can make no sound either.” He held out his arm and made a quick shallow cut at the back of his hand with the sword. A small wound gaped back, but for all his pink-faced, alive-seeming countenance, Fox did not bleed.
I slid off Chief’s back and moved toward him.
“It’s only a small cut, Tea. You don’t need to.”
“But I need the practice too. There’s a reason I’ve been eating those runeberries, as terrible as they taste.” I cut my finger with my knife, a new gift from Lady Mykaela for this purpose. I allowed the blood to drip onto his palms. The brown of my skin was paler now due to my frequent bloodletting, because after that first lesson, there had been many more for Lady Mykaela to teach, many more still to learn.
The blood spread across my brother’s skin, seeped into the flesh. He turned his hand over, and the wound was gone. The marks he wore on his chest retreated but did not diminish completely and remained red stained and angry.
“One day,” Fox said, and Chief neighed in agreement.
The taurvi was suspicious at first. The other daeva was larger and more ungainly on its feet, and it tottered as it walked until time smoothed out its stride. They moved in a circle, sniffing each other warily. The girl said nothing and watched them with an old smile on her young face.
Finally, the taurvi raised its head and let out a bellow. The akvan did the same, its tusks twitching.
With a growl, the taurvi sprung onto the akvan. They grappled for several seconds, rolling in the sand. Finally, the akvan let out a gleeful cry, and I realized they were playing.
The taurvi disengaged, shook itself free. It returned to smelling the other creature’s hide. The akvan butted it affectionately on the stomach, and the monster flopped onto its side, purring again.
“If the rest of us could only get along so well,” the girl mused.
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