“Get out of here!” I yelled.
“I could tell you the exact same thing!” Kalen turned to face the Odalian soldiers. It was a magnificent, petrifying sight: my black-clad warrior, facing off against an army—the very fate I had hoped for him to avoid when I compelled him in Odalia. My fears were mitigated only because I could sense no other spellbinders there beyond Baoyi and Usij. “What makes you think I’m going to let you do this alone?”
As the men surged forward, Kalen spread his arms, tracing dual runes in the air at once. A fog rose, the mist so thick and cloying that it was difficult to see a hand in front of your own face. Cries of dismay rose among the ranks as soldiers stumbled into each other.
Kalen wasn’t done. Borrowing a page from Althy’s book, he slammed his hands to the ground, punching another series of runes into the soil, and a large sinkhole opened up underneath the mass of swirling fog. More yells came from the soldiers as they tumbled down the unexpected ravine.
“Showoff.”
He said nothing, flashing me a smug grin.
With the soldiers off our backs, I focused on the savul again. I slipped cautiously back into its mind and felt Usij’s rancid presence as he screamed and railed at his creature to rise. The savul could only moan piteously. The azi had withdrawn its spike, leaving a large bloody hole at the center of the daeva’s body; I could feel the life stealing out from it. Usij’s mind withdrew, leaving it to suffer a slow and painful death.
Breathing hard, I commanded the azi to lower its head so I could slide down to the ground. Usij had abandoned his former pet, and I felt no resistance as I probed lightly into its mind. Its thoughts slid over me, warm and accepting of its approaching demise with a relief I could not help but feel pity for.
“Stay,” I told it gently, and it shuddered.
Pain lanced through my mind. I screamed; behind me, the azi reared up, all three heads howling at the sky. I felt something wrench them from my mind, and then their presence was gone.
Kalen’s arms caught me before I could collapse, but I could barely hear his voice. The loss of my azi had left a sudden gaping emptiness in my chest, like Usij had wrenched my heart out along with my control.
I heard a wheezing chuckle from nearby. As my vision cleared, I saw the old man standing before the fallen savul, smiling. “You might have bested the Odalian army, my dear,” he said laughing, “but empathy remains your weakness.” He turned to regard the savul with disdain. The creature was lying on its side, no longer moving. “A waste of flesh and power. The weakest of the lot as far as I’m concerned. But now, the azi…”
The azi took one step toward him and then another. It bowed its heads at his feet, and rage coursed through me. “Oh, the azi! That is a different beast entirely. The only daeva to have never been conquered by a human army or slain by a human hand. Aenah’s a fool, but that bitch knew how to tame daeva. If not for your efforts, Tea, I might never have found so powerful a prize.” He laid a hand on one of its heads, and the azi did not flinch. “It is time to replace your old master with one of better conviction,” he told the daeva. “Kill her.”
With a low hiss, the azi rose, its three heads trained in my direction. Trails of flame simmered from its snouts. Kalen raised his hand, palm outward, and Shield runes shimmered.
Despite the protection, the heat was intense. Fire licked at us, stopping several inches from us as it hit the barrier. The azi rumbled and let loose another torrent, and Kalen, his face grim and perspiring, shouldered the burden.
“Not today, Deathseeker.”
Kalen stiffened, his eyes wide with surprise. He let go of me, and I tumbled to the ground, still dazed. The azi had backed away, but Kalen remained upright, his eyes staring into the distance. The runes around us faded. I moved to stand, but Kalen’s foot pressed against my back, pinning me down.
“I think this would make for a better end and for better irony,” Usij drawled. “A bone witch slain by her own protector’s hand. Is that not a more fitting epitaph?”
Wordlessly, Kalen turned to me. He drew out his sword.
“Kalen…” I tried to enter his mind, desperate to find an opening, but Usij had been using compulsion for far too many years on far too many victims.
Kalen raised the blade over my neck. I changed the direction of my thoughts, pushing myself into the mind of the next best thing, knowing full well that I would not wrest control before the blow came.
“Kill her, Deathseeker.”
The blade fell, and I closed my eyes.
It struck the ground beside me, inches from my head. Usij snarled.
“Kill her!”
Kalen did not move. The sword trembled in his hands. I felt weak; there was a tug at my heartsglass, leeching strength from me.
“Kill her! Kill her!” Usij howled.
Kalen raised his sword, lowered it again. And then I saw the Heartshare rune, bright and glittering by his heartsglass, and I understood. He was resisting.
So did Usij, who laughed. “Foolish, besotted little man. Here is a better idea. Kill yourself in front of your beloved bone witch. Slice your own throat and let her bathe in your blood. Do it!”
The sword rose, but Kalen’s hesitation gave me time.
Usij let out a strange, strangled gasp and fell to his knees. The blade dropped from Kalen’s hands.
The Faceless looked down, eyes bulging, at the large claw now sticking out of his chest and at another talon protruding from his stomach, organs and entrails slithering to the floor.
“Impossible,” he wheezed as rivulets of blood flowed down his mouth, a waterfall of red that soaked his chin and neck. And then he fell on his face and stopped moving.
“Tea,” Kalen whispered. He was beside me, his rough hands cupping my face, his lips against my brow, my cheek, my lips. “Tea.”
“Beating him was tantamount to fighting at least five men, don’t you think?” I whispered against his mouth, exhausted beyond belief. Kalen’s chest heaved with relief, with laughter.
I focused on the savul again, and it withdrew its claw. At the same time, the azi, independent of any control, wrenched its tail spike away from the old man’s body with a sickening, crunching sound.
With difficulty, Kalen helped me up, his stare cautious as his eyes rested on the three-headed dragon before us.
“It won’t hurt us.”
“You’re not compelling it, Tea. It can attack at any moment.”
“It won’t hurt us,” I repeated. “When Usij was distracted, it killed him without my urging.” The azi bowed all three snouts, resting its long necks on the ground in an act of submission.
“But that’s impossible.”
“What’s one more impossibility today?” The yellow eyes that watched me approach were trusting, and the rumbling noise that started from the back of its throat was almost kittenish. “You shook free of his control all on your own, didn’t you?” I asked in wonder, laying my hand on the azi’s head, as I had done so many times before. It purred again, and I felt its mind open to mine, inviting as, for the first time, a daeva bowed before a human master of its own free will.
The ramifications were boundless. Emperor Shifang was an imposter. The man who had been leading Daanoris all these months was its greatest enemy. Now I understood the bone witch’s hatred; now I understood her murder of the hanjian.
The pain of having his spell so violently dispersed took its toll on the Faceless. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he shook, and foam bubbled from his mouth. His hands and feet were still bound, but these were no longer deterrents; he was clearly in no shape to break free.
“You survived, you old fool,” the Dark asha said, almost appreciative. “Old as the mountains, your hands full of guts and viscera, and still you survived. But severely weakened. Maintaining this Illusion rune must have taken everything you had.”