With a loud whinny, Chief broke through the wall right beside Aenah. She turned her head, and for a second, I saw an opening through the fog surrounding Fox. It was enough. I drove my will through it, pushed Aenah’s presence out of his mind. My brother slumped down.
Kalen was the first to react; his sword came whizzing through the air, but the Faceless reached out and plucked it out of his hands like she was picking flowers along a meadow. Without missing a beat, the Deathseeker sent a ball of Fire toward Aenah’s direction, but she repelled it easily, her hand reaching out to absorb the flames.
Polaire and Althy attacked as one; I could see the runes blaze before them, Fire and Wind streaking toward Aenah, combining to form lightning. The Faceless whirled back and stopped both attacks in midair as well. It sizzled a few inches before her outstretched hand, smoking.
“Too slow,” she sneered. “Your paltry Runic is nothing compared to what I—”
“Stay out of my head,” Fox growled at her feet, rising with his sword in hand. Aenah turned to deflect the blow, the blade skittering across the floor, and I attacked, with Althy, Polaire, and Zoya adding their strength to mine. I used everything I had gleaned from Aenah’s mind about Compulsion and lashed out. While she had sought to corrupt my mind little by little in subtle, underhanded ways for years, I needed no such pretense. I poured into her head, using her own tricks against her. She fought off my invasion but never saw Fox coming until his fist slammed into her face, knocking her out.
“The maid,” Zoya said with some disgust, staring down at her prone form. “How did we not think it would be the maid?”
“We’re too far removed from the time we ourselves worked at our own asha-ka as servants,” Althy said. “She was clever. We’ve assumed often enough that Faceless would choose positions of power and overlooked the people working for us.” She bent down and plucked the fake ruby pin from the Faceless’s hair. As she did, I stumbled back from the strong sense of magic emanating from her. “Not quite so faux, it seems. It helps to hide her magic from others rather than amplify it. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”
“But why not simply poison the food at the Valerian?” Kalen asked.
“The girl is strong in the Dark, but too many zivars and spells are woven around the asha-ka, limiting her abilities,” Lady Mykaela said wearily, stepping into the room. “And should someone fall ill or die at the Valerian, she would be easily suspected. She bided her time and waited instead until she could do the most damage—as evidenced when she placed the seeking stone at the Falling Leaf and when she summoned the azi to disrupt the darashi oyun.”
I stooped down to the fallen Faceless. I reached out to her with my mind, assessing, exploring. Twisting. “I wanted to tell you all about her so many times before, but she always compelled me to remain silent,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I believed that they were my own thoughts. I know otherwise now.”
“I’ve never told anyone else about it,” Zoya said to me. “That I first came to the Valerian but was rejected.”
“Lady Mykaela knew,” I admitted, straightening up, “but she never told me. I guessed and confronted her about it. Your dislike didn’t just stop with me. You disliked Mistress Parmina, the maids here, everyone in the Valerian except Lady Mykaela. It was like you associated a lot of bad memories with the place itself. And you were always so in control of your emotions, yet every time you looked at Shadi, your heartsglass always betrayed you. I convinced Lady Mykaela that I already knew enough and that I may as well know everything else.”
“Was the horse your idea?” Kalen asked me.
“Althy did something similar in the past—but with a cow.” Chief simply shook off the blow and wandered out from the stallion-sized hole it had caused in the wall. “Though I imagine Mistress Parmina will charge me for the repairs.”
“I think I understand your meteoric rise through the asha ranks,” Zoya confessed with a wan smile. She lowered her voice for my ears alone. “And since you know everything, must I implore you not to tell Shadi about my other secret.”
I met her even gaze and grinned. “What other secret?”
Zoya laughed.
“I chose the Sea of Skulls for my exile because the bones scattered here serve my purpose,” she said. “Because the last person that matters to me lies here. I buried him myself, with my hands and my tears. I raise all these daeva because I intend to have my vengeance for his sake and for the sake of other friends who have fallen. Both asha and the Faceless will pay for taking everything from me—my friends, my love, my identity. The Willows will not protect them. No fortress or stronghold that shields them will be spared, wherever they may be.
“This is my new family. This is my new identity. I will be the bone witch the kingdom fears, and I will make them pay.”
She knelt before the grave one last time. She pressed her lips against the stone and then rose. The daeva flanked her, sensing their mistress’ intentions; they were no longer affectionate and playful, now baying and primed for war. Her fingers traveled along the breeze, mapping out a new rune in its wake.
The ground underneath the headstone shuddered, split open. A figure rose from the hole that yawned before us, fingers digging into the dirt. He was tall and garbed in military black; it was obvious from the deep wounds on his chest that he had died fighting.
The girl took something out of her waist wrap. It was the small jeweled case I had seen before on her table, surrounded by the bezoars. Inside lay a silver heartsglass, shining bright as the sun.
“Welcome back, my love.”
“Your brother?” I whispered, staring at the boy.
“My brother and I are no longer on speaking terms. He chose to stay behind and defend the Willows.”
“But what of the bond you share?”
“An unexpected effect of my black heartsglass is that he can no longer sense me, and the reverse holds true. But for as long as I live, so will he.” She smiled. “He might even seek to kill me, though it will cost him his own life. We have come a long way only to fall apart. But if he cannot stand with us, then he must stand against us.”
The man in black approached us, cloak fluttering in the wind. He took her hand.
“You can join us if you choose to, Bard. The story is far from over, and we still have many kingdoms to take.” She smiled at the boy she had just raised from the grave. “Don’t we, my love?”
31
“They told me I would find you here.”
My breath caught in my throat. I turned away from the imposing domed roof of the oracle’s temple to regard the man standing in the moonlight, regarding me with his solemn face and smiling eyes. He was dressed in dark clothes, an unusual choice for him. I put my hand over my heartsglass, instinctively seeking to shield him from reading the staccato beats his unexpected presence caused. I was thrilled, but I also knew this was not the place I wanted him to see me at.