The Heart Forger (The Bone Witch #2)

The azi flew into the path of the fireballs heading our way. A current ran through my body, sparks singing through the air as Lord Kalen’s magic took hold. Almost immediately, ice crept up around the incoming flames, freezing and turning them into rocks that shattered midair, their pieces falling uselessly back to earth. Every attempt by the enemy asha was quickly repelled, and the Deathseeker was quick to turn the battleground to his advantage; new hurricanes savaged the area, and what legions of the army had retained their formations despite the undead assault were soon dispersed by the whirling tempest.

But the army’s asha had not been idle; I could see the earth breaking up underneath some of the cadavers, saw many of them falling into the pits. The girl smiled, and I could feel the crackling of energy around her. The zivar pinned to my shirt grew hot to the touch. “Mykkie must have learned that from Altaecia,” I heard her murmur to herself. “But she forgets the one glaring difference between humans and corpses.” She lifted her arms, fingers moving deftly.

More cries and shouts of alarm came as the corpses reconstituted themselves and clawed their way back to the surface. Limbs reattached and heads returned to their bodies as the Dark asha’s magic took hold again, willing ashes and bone back to life. Now I saw the wisdom of bringing these undead from every grave she could find in Daanoris and burying them before the city. Already the army was demoralized and broken, and the daeva still waited beyond, refreshed and eager to participate.

The army retreated, carrying their dead and injured with them. I watched them disappear over the hill, while the corpses stood like rotting mannequins.

The azi returned with the triumphant Deathseeker. The bone witch rushed to him, giving him little time to respond as she took his face and kissed him hard.

“You are to never do that again,” she panted when they finally broke apart. “For a moment, I had forgotten that you were…that you were…”

There was a boyish grin on Lord Kalen’s usually serious face. “Call it payback from last time.”

“Shut up,” the girl said and kissed him again.





18


“How could you not tell us that your pet could get from Kion to Daanoris in one day?” Zoya was not having a very good morning. We were camped outside Santiang, Daanoris’s capital, to finish our preparations. The azi had long since left; none of us wanted another panic, much less in a potentially hostile city. I could still feel it nearby, making itself at home in a nearby forest.

“It never came up in conversation before. And I’ve never been to Daanoris.” I felt ridiculous changing into an elaborate hua in the middle of nowhere, but there were delegates to consider. The presence of the azi had not gone unnoticed, and a small contingent of ambassadors, diplomats, and three times as many soldiers had arrived barely an hour after the azi’s departure. Though they were most respectful, with Zoya and Shadi fluent in Daanorian to prevent any misunderstandings, they were also very insistent that we meet the emperor immediately.

The look Zoya shot my way was scathing. “Well, there better not be any more surprises. We’re treading on unknown territory, and your daeva isn’t helping matters any. Can you keep a leash on your azi at this distance?”

“Distance doesn’t really mean anything to us.”

“Good. Let Shadi and me do all the talking. Back me up even when it sounds like I don’t know what in Mithra’s ass I’m talking about.” Zoya smoothed her dress. We were all decked out in our best hua, Inessa included, while Kalen, Khalad, and Fox dressed in gray woolen robes. It was odd to see Kalen in clothing that wasn’t black, and it was clear that the Deathseeker didn’t like it.

Zoya was uncharacteristically meticulous, fussing over each of us. “You’re going to have to take the lead at some points, Your Majesty,” she told the princess. “You’re going to be speaking for all of Kion, and it’s necessary to be assertive. Keep Prince Kance’s heartsglass hidden at all times. Have you ever been here before?”

“Once, on a ceremonial visit. Mother did most of the talking.”

“Channel as much of your mother as you’re able to. I’ll be whispering in your ear every now and then, like I’m your closest adviser. The emperor’s own counsel does this frequently, so it won’t seem out of place.” Zoya sighed. “They’ve waited long enough. Let’s get this over with.”

A crowd had gathered by the time we entered the city. As we were led down the streets, the people knelt, touching their foreheads to the ground.

“The emperor has his subjects well trained,” Kalen murmured softly and received a sharp jab in the side from Zoya.

There were certain similarities between Kion and Santiang. The roads here were narrower, but the sharp roofs and curved arches so popular in Ankyo had first taken root here. Kion was constructed with aesthetics in mind, but Santiang was built with utilitarian intent. The walls were made of a mix of wood and concrete. Though roughly hewn and unpainted, all looked capable of lasting for decades. We passed sturdy houses and well-maintained pavements, all in varying shades of gray.

Most of the people wore short robes and sandals, and I saw nothing in their dress to distinguish among different professions and trades. The only magic I could sense were in the hua and zivars we wore—no one we passed wore anything bespelled. Nobody wore heartsglass. It would take considerably more effort to use magic on someone without one, a clear disadvantage for asha.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Likh said nervously.

Zoya wove a rune in the air. It sputtered against her fingers. “Still works,” she said, “but it’s not as strong as it should be.”

“If runic magic isn’t used here, then how did the sleeping Daanorian princess acquire a heartsglass of her own?” Fox asked Khalad.

The forger shrugged. “Master thinks it was a foreigner. I don’t think it was an asha though—that would have caused a stir—and Princess Yansheo wouldn’t have understood its significance. Most Daanorians think heartsglass are nothing more than pretty trinkets.”

“Makes what happened to her even more heartless,” Fox said. “Literally.”

The Daanorian palace was the only spot of color in the city. Pearl-white and luminescent, it was ringed by golden towers and sloped roofs, which shone like ivory. As we approached, I saw the reason why—the exterior was covered in marble slates, polished until they reflected the sunlight. I shuddered to think how hot it would be in the height of summer.

“They have an extensive irrigation system that pipes cold and hot water into the rooms within and can be adjusted according to preference,” Shadi murmured. “It keeps the palace temperate, no matter the weather.”

Something felt wrong the instant we stepped inside. Zoya stiffened, her fingers moving. “Wards,” she whispered.

“Someone warded the whole palace?” I could see the barriers writhing above us, tied in complicated knots. I sketched out Compulsion, but nothing happened. I pressed my hand against the protection stone I wore around my neck but found no response to it either. I tried Scrying, to similar effect. These wards were stronger than those in Aenah’s jail if not even the False runes worked.

“We should have expected this,” Shadi said softly. “Magic is banned in Daanoris. Whoever was responsible was also very thorough. And extremely competent.”

“Master never mentioned these protections though,” Khalad said. “This was added recently.”

Likh stared intently at the ceiling, at the magic beyond our grasp. “They may be more complicated than the wards around Aenah, but they don’t look all that different from the spells we wove into zivar at Chesh’s,” he murmured. “Will this put us at a disadvantage?”

“Not completely.” I reached out with my mind, felt my brother’s response, his comfortable nearness. Moving farther out, I detected faint thoughts from the azi. Our connection was not as strong as I was expecting, but it was assuaging to know our link had not been severed.

The azi was drifting lazily somewhere in the middle of the Swiftsea. I tried to nudge it with my mind, tried to get it to turn around—and found that I couldn’t.

“My bond with Tea is intact,” Fox confirmed.

“And the daeva?” Zoya asked.

“Not quite. I can sense it, but it doesn’t respond to my commands.”

“Isn’t that bad?” Likh asked. “Who’s controlling it while you’re here?”

“It’s not going to attack.”