“Until we meet again,” Aenah called after us before the heavy metal doors slid shut.
“Tell the commander that Garveth is to have time off until his wife gives birth,” I instructed one of the passing soldiers. “And I want all guards keeping watch over this cell, standing at least twenty feet away. No one but the Deathseeker who delivers her meals may approach.” I knew it would probably be ineffective, but I had to do something.
“What did she mean about an azi lodged in your mind?” Fox demanded as we left the prison. “You killed it two years ago, didn’t you? Has it been resurrected?”
I swallowed. “No. I never killed it.”
“This sounds like a private conversation between you two,” Khalad said nervously from behind us. “I should be going.”
“Stay, Khalad,” Fox commanded. “You’ve been taking memories from Tea all this time. Did you not know about this?”
The forger swallowed. “Well…”
Fox gaped at him. “You knew?”
“It’s part of our oath as Heartforgers—memories are no one else’s business but their owner’s.”
“It didn’t want to fight!” I protested. “The azi was under Aenah’s influence. It fought her as much as I did. But now I’m in its mind and it’s in mine, and I know it meant no harm.”
“Break your bond with it, Tea! It’s too dangerous!”
“I don’t know how even if I wanted to. But it knows I’m not the threat Aenah was. It’s made no move to attack since I took control.”
Slowly, Fox shook his head. “That doesn’t make it harmless.”
“Harmless or not, it hasn’t done anything to me. There’s something about this bond that makes us aware of each other’s presence. And…and it gives me control of it when I ask.”
“Tea!”
“What do you expect me to do, Fox? Tell the asha elders? Khalad, tell him what would happen if I did.”
Khalad swallowed. “You’d be locked up just like Aenah. You’d be considered a source of danger to everyone, and neither Mykaela nor even Altaecia has that much authority to protect you.”
“Tea, don’t you think Mykaela ought to know at least?” my brother persisted, though much of his irritation was gone, knowing Khalad had spoken the truth.
“She won’t know how to break the bond any more than I do. At this point, I know more about handling daeva than she does. And as for the others…” Telling Mykaela meant telling Polaire, and after my blowup at Polaire the other day, telling her would be tantamount to telling the association. “That I’m a bone witch makes it worse. There’ll be people crying for my head soon enough. King Telemaine and Prince Kance could even be accused of conspiring with me. I won’t let that happen.”
“I really should be going,” Khalad said nervously, backing away. “I really should put this memory in a safer place.”
“Khalad, come back here. I’m not done with—ah, hells. He’s gone.” Fox turned back to me. “I’m not ‘other people,’ Tea. I’m your brother. You should have told me.”
“I know about your dislike for daeva, Fox. I knew you wouldn’t approve.”
“Not approving doesn’t mean I’m not going to stick by you. Your problems are my own.” He paused. “At least that explains the disorienting sensations I get from you sometimes.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll try my best not to keep anything from you again,” I said, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
“I like how you say ‘try,’ like you would do it again if you thought it would spare me the trouble.” My brother sighed. “I guess we have no choice then.”
“No choice in what?”
“We have no choice but to find that blasted book that harpy’s been yapping about. If there is guarded magic in it that might break your bond, that warrants a look.”
“I remember that day,” the Heartforger said. “Your heartsglass shone so brightly, Tea. There was anger and frustration and sorrow, an unhealthy combination. I remembered Aenah’s too. She was afraid of you, no matter how she tried to hide that. She was adept enough at disguising it, but I could still see the flecks of blue.”
“I’m surprised how much you recall, considering how quickly you fled.”
The Heartforger actually laughed. He was everything she described and, at the same time, everything she had not. He was dark from his travels, and his eyes were a light gray, nearly as colorless as his hair, which hung long past his shoulders. He looked stronger than I expected—shoulders broad but hunched, arms heavily built. He narrowed his eyes as he focused on me, a habit I recognize, having poor sight myself. His heartsglass was a masterpiece—a dizzying crystal of fractured colors, of a finer cut than the best diamonds. “Who is he?” the Heartforger asked.
“My chronicler, of a sort.”
The Heartforger frowned, but his final impression was of sadness rather than of anger. “This is a dangerous thing you do, Tea.”
“No more dangerous than other choices you have made, Khalad. And you know as well as I that I am running out of options as quickly as Daanoris is emptying of people.”
“How did you know to find me here? You were still in exile when I left Ankyo.”
She smiled at him. “I didn’t. But I knew you wouldn’t stay in Kion for long. Ankyo and Odalia disgust you now as much as they disgust me. During my exile, I scried my way down the coast and followed the minds leading into Santiang. Imagine my surprise to find this man in charge.” She nodded at the emperor, who had made good on his promise not to move while we were gone. “I knew he would seek you out and that you would be in danger.”
“You were able to scry over that distance? Your powers are stronger than even before you were…” His eyes met hers, and she nodded. “I had little time to do much forging for him,” he continued. “I’ve barely been in prison two days. Is that why you came to Daanoris with all the daeva in your heartsglass?”
“Can you see them?”
“Their hearts are intertwined with yours, and only your death can pull them apart.” He looked troubled. “I am afraid, Tea.”
The asha knelt before him, her hands clasped around his. “Will you stop me then?” she whispered, and for a moment, she sounded very young. “Is there any other alternative, Khalad?”
“No,” the boy said heavily. “There isn’t. That is the problem.”
“Do you approve then?”
“No. But I understand why you do it.” He glanced at me again. “How much does he know?”
“As little as possible,” the asha replied.
“I found the princess, and the rest of the soldiers are tending to their wounded,” Lord Kalen said, entering the room.
The Heartforger’s jaw grew slack, and he rose to his feet as Lord Kalen approached.
He continued, “They surrendered swiftly, and I do not think they will cause more trouble, not with the daeva waiting outside. Hello, Khalad.”
Lord Khalad’s mouth worked uselessly, and tears of both shock and joy filled his eyes. His heartsglass wept, a shining star.
“I am glad to see that I can still hide things from you, Khalad,” the bone witch said, smiling.
“We saw you die,” the Heartforger finally croaked, clutching the other boy’s shoulders. “Tea tried to raise you. We couldn’t bring you back. We saw you die.”
“I got better,” Lord Kalen said. A strange smile played on his lips, and his heartsglass burned as brightly as the Heartforger’s.
7
Millicent Tread’s grave was a neglected tangle of grass and dandelions. The small headstone that marked her final repose was obscured by the tall weeds and heavy stones. It lay the farthest from the graveyard entrance, relegated to a plot near forgotten folk who had died in the last century and were, therefore, of little use to the current one. I could see why Aenah would plant secrets along its periphery; few people had reason to go this deep into the boneyard, and Millicent Tread was difficult to find unless you knew she was there to begin with.