The Bone Witch (The Bone Witch #1)

Rahim and Chesh had outdone themselves. The young boy wore a black hua with white roses that had gold-rimmed petals, and a modest copper-colored wrap. A crown of white roses circled his head, weaving into his long tresses. Likh was dancing the Fox Spirit’s Song, where a beautiful fox demon was caught by hunters and forced to dance in order to gain her release. It was a second-tier piece I had watched other asha rehearse several times before but was not yet cleared to do myself. How had Likh learned this?

The boy pirouetted and extended out a hand. Fire sprung to life, settled against his palm. The audience gasped and Likh withdrew, leaving it suspended on nothing, and drew another Fire rune at the next corner, repeating the movements until he was surrounded by balls of steady flames, licking at the air like candlelight.

“Likh didn’t tell us he was going to do that,” I muttered. It was one thing to dance like an asha, but to show them you could draw runes too was inviting trouble. They were going to seek him out afterward, and the boy knew it.

“Now you know how we feel every time you do something you neglect to tell us.” Fox was amused, to my irritation.

A hush fell over the audience as Likh completed the dance, balancing himself on one leg while the other remained poised in the air on his left. When he finally sank down to the ground, extinguishing the balls of fire as he did, the applause was deafening. Likh’s solemn demeanor disappeared, and he turned red. Chesh was already hurrying forward, her face beaming, to help the boy off the stage.

“I have a good feeling about this,” I whispered gleefully to Fox.

“I hope you’re right,” my brother whispered back. “They might like him now, but opinions may shift later.”

“You’re a spoilsport, you know that?” I would have added more, but the torches flickering around the stage dimmed—the play was about to begin.

For the dance, the asha wore floor-length sleeves and full-body overcoats that opened at the front to expose silky inner garments, accentuated by hints of bosom. Asha played both male and female roles; the former’s clothes were not as ornate, with scarves around their necks as long as the women’s sleeves but with shorter coats and trousers. The magic emanating from them was overpowering—my hairpins, created to withstand the worst of what the city could offer, tingled from the surplus. And with every additional garment the asha wore, the greater the potential for higher magic stitched into the cloth.

The dance itself was as old as the lands, as ancient as people remembered time. The villagers of Knightscross knew the story, acted it out in simple plays during the winter solstice. But paper masks and sticks were nothing against art in its fullest flavor, under the watchful eyes of rich patrons.

The asha chorus had soft voices, but their words carried effortlessly.

“In the beginning, Blade that Soars. In the beginning, Dancing Wind.”

Two people danced into the center of the room; Lady Shadi wore an eye mask of unparalleled beauty, with tiny diamonds that encircled her eyes and golden agates that rounded out the corners of the cloth, set in stone along a profusion of sapphires and rubies. But the greatest of her treasures was a brilliant diamond around her neck, set inside a heartsglass case. Black onyx lined the man’s mask, deepening the hollows of his cheeks and smoothing out the sternness of his chin. The woman tilted her hand up, a coquettish movement, and the man accepted.

“They ruled the sky as far as the wind took breath, the lands as wide as the ground held sand and soil, the seas as fathomless as their darkest depths. The god cloaked his lover in moonlight and wove stars into her hair. He gave her the brightest and most beautiful of gemstones, worn on her graceful neck. Magic flourished in abundance, runeberries plump and primed.”

Two more dancers entered. The second man wore an eye mask of midnight black; rubies and sunstones painted his brow. The second woman wore a strange combination of moonstones and black pearl. While Lady Shadi wore a magnificent array of colors, Zoya’s was a muted enterprise of black and gray.

“But not all creatures were happy. The god’s brother was Hollow Knife; the god’s beloved, a sister named Little Tears. Hollow Knife resented his brother, for the people loved Blade that Soars, and the younger sibling desired his influence. Little Tears too loved Blade that Soars and hated her sister.” The newcomers began their own dance—fierce, angry gestures.

“Hollow Knife came to Blade that Soars and said, ‘Brother, keeper of the winds and crown of the world, we are of one blood and of one purpose, with no secrets between us. I ask, where does your heart keep?’”

The asha in the rubies-and-sunstone mask minced around the onyx-gilded dancer, a crafty satyr encircling his unwitting prey.

“And Blade that Soars told him, ‘Inside the egg of a nest in the highest tree in the peak of the highest mountain, guarded by twelve rocs and twelve eagles as large as the sun and as swift as the fastest rivers. It is there, and only there, I keep my heart.’

“And so Hollow Knife traveled to the mountain. He slew a dozen rocs and a dozen eagles, but when he reached into the nest to claim its prize, he saw it was only a normal egg, round and black speckled.

“And Blade that Soars berated him, saying, ‘Why do you seek to unman me, Brother? My fields I have given freely, and my waters you can drink your fill. Do not seek what is not yours to take, for the world will suffer.’

“‘Forgive me, my brother,’ Hollow Knife groveled.” And the dancer bent gracefully on one foot, her body straight as an arrow, muscles straining against her weight. “‘I only meant to see for myself that it was true, all the better to protect you from harm. But it is not right to lie to your own kin, I, who have only your best interests in mind.’ And so Blade that Soars relented and forgave him his treachery.

“After some time had passed, Hollow Knife came once more to Blade that Soars and said, ‘Brother, bearer of light and eye of the storm. We are of one blood and of one purpose, with no secrets between us. I ask, where does your heart keep?’

“And Blade that Soars told him, ‘Inside the belly of a fish swimming in the lowest reaches of the deepest sea, guarded by twelve sharks and twelve kraken as large as the moon and as fierce as the hottest fires. It is there, and only there, I keep my heart.’

“And so Hollow Knife traveled to the nethermost sea. He slew a dozen sharks and a dozen kraken, but when he took the fish to claim his prize, he saw that it was only a normal fish, small and white tailed.

“And Blade that Soars berated him, saying, ‘Why do you seek to unman me, Brother? My crops I have harvested for your care, and my animals I sacrifice for your meat. Do not seek what is not yours to take, for the world will suffer.’

“‘Forgive me, my brother,’ Hollow Knife groveled. ‘I only meant to see for myself that it was true, all the better to protect you from harm. But it is not right to lie to your own kin, I, who have only your best interests in mind.’ And again Blade that Soars relented and forgave him his treachery.