I did not understand, but Lady Mykaela did. She reached into the bags and pulled out a small pouch and signaled for Fox and me to follow.
The boy led us to one of the smaller houses. Inside, an old woman lay groaning on the bed, her eyes clouded with fever. Lady Mykaela gently lifted the blankets off her and glanced at her heartsglass, green tinged and clouded against her chest. “Bonesmelt,” she said. “Common for her age but already at an advanced stage. What is your name, boy?”
“Tanner, milady.”
“Boil me some hot water, Tanner, and fetch me a clean bowl.”
Lady Mykaela took packs and jars from her pouch, all containing assortments of dried herbs. She mixed some of each into a bowl—a pinch from one, a larger dose from another—before dividing them into smaller portions, pouring all but one into folded paper packets with the efficiency of one who did this often. The last she added to the hot water. “This is a mixture of enderroot, sage, and adalt. Your grandmother must drink a bowl of this three times a day, after every meal,” she instructed. “When the potion runs out, boil her a fresh batch. One packet for every pot. Remember that. They should last you four months, but I should be back before then.”
“Mistress Mykaela?” There was someone else at the door. This time it was a young woman whose husband had broken his leg in a fall.
We followed Lady Mykaela as she moved from house to house, treating the sick and the injured. I could not figure out how the asha knew their ailments with only a glance at their heartsglass, but I noticed a pattern: the sickly were green hued, family members’ blue with worry. There was orange for disinterest, yellow for fear, and red if their owners were healthy and happy. My mentor asked for nothing in return, and my confusion grew with each visit. My books told me that asha could heal the sick, but I had always assumed it was through magic. The reality was very different.
The villagers gave us a simple meal of bread and vegetables, but the asha ate no more than a few bites. It was evening by the time she was done making her rounds, and the village chief asked us to stay for the night, citing the lateness of the hour.
“There’s something troubling you, Garen,” Lady Mykaela said, smiling. “I can see it in your heartsglass.”
I looked and saw faint blue ripples across the surface of his pendant.
“You’re right, Mistress,” the old man apologized. “I am worried. It will be the seventh day of the seventh month tomorrow, and I wonder… The time is growing close to when that…that thing rises again. Murkwick is the nearest village where it could vent its fury, and I am very much afraid—”
“I have not forgotten, old friend,” Lady Mykaela interrupted him. “Rest easy. I will deal with the matter tomorrow, as I always have.”
“We are, as always, in your debt, Lady Asha. Is there anything else you require?”
“There are two things. I would like a shovel and perhaps a small sword for Sir Fox over here.”
“I will have them ready before you leave.” The old man bowed. The blue of his heartsglass faded until only its red hue remained.
They gave us the largest room at the Dancing Rune, Murkwick’s only inn, at the village chief’s request. The innkeeper offered Fox another, but my brother turned it down, calmly pointing out that the dead had no need for sleep. I’m sure it unnerved the man, but Fox had never been one to mince words.
I could sense Fox while he occupied himself in the village and was surprised to learn that a connection existed between us, however faint.
“What did you expect?” Lady Mykaela asked, sitting on her bed. She had traded in her beautiful blue-and-green dress for a silk robe more suitable for sleep. Even the woman’s underclothes were stunning. The rough chemise I had brought along looked ungainly and coarse in comparison. “The bond between an asha and her familiar is strong and difficult to break. You’ll learn more once we return to Kion.”
“What’s going to happen tomorrow?”
The woman took something round and carefully wrapped in paper from her pouch. When she pulled back the sheets, I saw a black stone, crumbled and decayed and covered in mold. “This is a bezoar,” she told me. “When fresh, it is a powerful antidote to many illnesses. But in a few days’ time, not even ashes shall remain. Tomorrow, we shall bring back a fresh specimen.” She slid into her bed, took a quick glance back at me. “You may ask me any other questions you have in mind. You must have many.”
“I could see the colors of the villagers’ heartsglass changing. I’ve never noticed that before.”
“Using the Dark runes for the first time made you more attuned to magic. That is all. Most people know three kinds of asha, Tea. The first are performing asha, known for their dancing and their singing, though their magic may be weaker than others. The second are fighting asha, known for their magic and their prowess, though they may not be the most gracious of hosts. The third are Dark asha like us, the strongest of them all.”
“Does this make my sisters asha as well?”
“Your siblings can sense magic, but purple hearts prove they are not powerful enough to be even the weakest of asha. They make for good apothecaries and ateliers, that is true, but they cannot harness magic strong enough to shape it according to their will. Asha means two things in old Runic. The first is ‘truth’; the second, ‘spellbinder.’ That is what we must do—we bind the magic and force it to do as we command. Rose may be a good healer, but she cannot see illnesses in heartsglass. And Lilac might be a good diviner, but she is not strong enough to summon so much as fire. They can draw Heartsrune, but that remains the extent of their abilities. Do you not find it odd that it is the custom of even the most remote villages to wear heartsglass?”
“When my parents wedded, they exchanged them as proof of their love. They have never lost their hearts in the twenty years since their marriage.” My eyes betrayed me; they wandered to Lady Mykaela’s neck, to her empty heartsglass. I jerked my gaze away, but already Lady Mykaela’s smile grew pinched, like she had tasted something tarter than runeberries. For a moment, she looked so sad that I worried I had given offense yet again.
But she only said, “Then that is evidence of your parents’ fidelity. But one of the original purposes of heartsglass was to find people who can wield the magic to take them to be trained. And then there are the rare few like you, who do not wait until they are thirteen years old to make their presence known. It was only by a stroke of luck that I was at the right place and time to sense the Dark you drew to summon Fox; you would have fared worse otherwise.”
I worked up my courage. “Lady Mykaela, what happened to your heartsglass?”