? ? ?
I listened until my brother’s footsteps faded before sneaking out of my room a second time. I opened the doors of my mind to welcome the hidden shadows; they wrapped around my core, creating a barrier that had for many months prevented Fox from discovering the other sentience I hoarded away, like a sweet vintage I had no intentions of sharing. I couldn’t. Not yet.
Chief waited for me at the stables. A lone woman on a horse caused no outcry, and we rode undisturbed out of the city, into a copse of trees that hid us further from view. I climbed off my stallion, told him to await my return, and moved deeper into the forest, into a small clearing that served as a rendezvous point.
I reached out once more to the moving darkness. The scar on my right thigh was hot to the touch. It burned in the cold air, but I felt no pain.
Despite its size, the beast was made of stealth and shadows. Where there was once nothing, it now stood beside me, as if summoned from the air. Three pairs of hooded eyes gazed down at me, forked tongues dancing. Its wings extended, and twilight rolled over me, soothing and pleasant.
Master? It was a voice but not in the manner we think of voices. Our bond gave us an understanding that went beyond language.
I reached out. Its scaly hide was a combination of coarse bark and rough sandpaper.
Play? It sat, unmoving, as I climbed up its back.
Yes.
In the blink of an eye, we were soaring across the sky, rolling meadows and fields of green passing below us. Turn, I thought, testing the limits of my control, as I have over the last several months. The azi complied, wings curving toward the horizon. I laughed, the sound joyous and free against the wind, and one head dipped briefly to nuzzle at my cheek, purring.
This is not selfishness, I told myself, but a responsibility. Mykaela was partly right; I was arrogant and overconfident, but I was not like other Dark asha. No other Dark asha had been able to tame the azi. And riding with it on quiet nights meant it was not rampaging through cities.
But I also knew I had to keep my companion a secret. Raising a dead king was a far lesser sin than taking a daeva as a familiar. I shall conquer this, I thought and, in doing so, sealed my fate.
“Why are we at Daanoris?” I asked again when she paused. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“Because I need you as a witness as well as a storyteller, Bard. You will not remain unbiased for long if I supply you with foresight.”
“You summoned me. I travel with you. My opinions will make little difference.”
“You have a reputation for impartiality, Bard. I trust your judgment and my prudence. And here in Santiang, there is someone I would like you to meet.”
“Who?”
“They call him the Heartforger.” She flashed me a quick mischievous grin. “I find it difficult to believe you will be so eager to rule in my favor after the endless stretch of corpses I summoned in my wake. Or after informing you of my intentions to take Daanoris. It is not easy to mask your repugnance. Why have I come to Daanoris? Perhaps simply because I can. Has that not crossed your mind?”
“Tea,” Kalen admonished, his voice low and amused.
She laughed. “Let me continue my story while we still have the luxury.”
The shadows grew across the trees. The daeva melted slowly into the forest, moving silently despite their sizes. No other sound passed through the woods—no chirping of birds nor chatter of squirrels. There was only the wind whispering through the leaves, the crackling of fire, and the sound of the asha’s voice.
2
“Have you gotten around to kissing a boy yet?” Councilor Ludvig asked, and I choked on my tea.
We were sitting in one of the rooms at the Gentle Oaks in Kneave, one of the rare teahouses in Odalia where asha were acknowledged. It was a far cry from the more elaborate cha-khana found in Kion, but I liked the fewer formalities required here. Fox had gone off to train with the Odalian soldiers and I’d attended a few functions that day, choosing to spend the rest of my free time with the councilor, a veritable Isteran leader in his own right. I had expected more history lessons from him or a sharp critique on current politics. I had not expected this.
“And why, pray tell,” I managed, after wiping the spill on the table and clearing my throat, “should that be any of your business?”
Councilor Ludvig grinned, making him look younger than his seventy-odd years. “Is it wrong to inquire after my favorite student? Asha much younger than you have had more experience in romance, despite having done much less for Kion. I’ve kissed a pretty asha a time or two myself back in my prime.”
“I’m…far too busy to be thinking about that.”
“Poppycock.” The councilor tore off a piece of tanūr bread. “Balance must be struck. You are still so young, my dear, and in danger of being overworked if it were up to your asha-ka mistress. Enjoy your youth. Do not let harridans like Parmina convince you otherwise. And also,” he added, chewing thoughtfully, “I have a wonderful nephew. He is only a couple of years older than you…”
I groaned. “Thank you, Councilor, but I already have my hands full juggling relationships with people I know without adding anyone new to the mix.”
“So I presume there has been progress between you and the prince?”
“Absolutely not!” My cheeks colored. “He’s a prince! And I’m just…I’m a…”
A bone witch. Feared and hated everywhere but in Kion. And even in Kion, I frequently felt that we were entertainment first and people second.
The councilor only nodded. He’d been in politics longer than I had been alive and knew the lay of the land, so to speak. “Yet you are drawn to Prince Kance.”
“Well, he’s kind. He’s the first person besides Mykaela and my brother who does not care that I am a bone witch. And he cares for his people. Really cares, not just parrots what will appease his subjects. He’s sincere about what he believes in. And he’s very…” This was harder to admit. “He’s very nice looking in the face. But not just in the face—overall. I mean—”
He chuckled. “I get the point. But marriages between asha and royalty have happened before. Even with Dark asha. It is not so uncommon.”
“It doesn’t matter. He has enough trouble helping his father run Odalia as it is.” And there’s an azi inside my head, milord, I added silently. Everyone knows daeva are a weapon of the Faceless, and I am wielding the most dangerous of them all. I don’t want the prince involved. The shadows in my head shifted, agreeing.
“How are your friendships with the other boys in court then? Prince Khalad?”
Only Councilor Ludvig would still refer to Kance’s brother as a prince, though his heartforging abilities had put an end to his claim to the throne. Khalad and I had grown close the year I became a full-fledged asha, and no other asha had his unique ability to forge memories into heartsglass. “Pretty good,” I said, “though Khalad’s even busier with work than I am.”
“And what about Kalen?”
I stared at him, then started to laugh. “Kalen? He still hates me.”
“Hate is a strong word, Tea.”
“He does. He ignores me whenever he can, and when he can’t, he talks down to me in that infuriatingly passive-aggressive way he has. I can never do anything right, if you listened to him, and if he could sever my ties to Prince Kance, he’d do it, then expect me to kowtow to his demands without protest.”
“Have you done anything to arouse his enmity?”
“I haven’t kept my resentment hidden exactly,” I admitted sourly. “And I might have ignored his orders on occasion, on account of him being a jerk with no redeeming qualities.”