by Rin Chupeco
The houses here were not as small and as square as most of the city but longer and more rectangular in form, the size of two or three average Ankyon houses. The walls facing the street were made of thick adobe and white brick, plain and devoid of any other design. “We call this the Willows,” Lady Mykaela said, “home to the greatest asha in all the kingdoms.”
“There aren’t any willows,” Fox said, who sometimes took things literally.
“Here is one.” And Lady Mykaela placed a hand on my shoulder.
She led us to one house in particular. Only a peculiar symbol painted on a wooden sign out front distinguished it from several others along that same street. Beyond the initial doorway was a long strip of corridor that led into the inner rooms. The asha paused at a spot where the cobbled ground ended and the carefully tamped-down earthen floor I would learn was common in all asha-ka began. She took off her shoes and placed them in a small wooden cubicle built for that purpose and signaled for us to do the same.
The narrow passageway continued into an airy room that was both a reception hall and a transition place between the rest of the rooms and the street outside. Thick rugs of beautiful geometric designs lined the walls, and the floor was similarly covered with a thinner, less intricate carpet. The ceiling was higher than I had anticipated, with sloping curves that formed a hollowed out dome at its center. A small screen stood at the farthest end of the room, preventing visitors from seeing the inner chambers within, and a towering flower display was arranged on a table before it. A steel coal brazier lay in one corner, blazing merrily.
Two people rose to meet us as we entered. The first was a very old woman, her skin stretched so tautly over her bones that she looked nearly like a skeleton herself. Her hair was completely white and carefully set against the back of her skull in a severe bun. She reminded me of an aged tamra cat’s, with her triangularly shaped face and pointed chin. Her cheeks were sunken in, but her eyes were a bright and intelligent green. She wore a hua even more elegant and elaborate than Lady Mykaela’s; it was an abstract design of pale amber against a deep-brown background and an olive-green waist wrap with actual emeralds sewn into the gold-embroidered silk, matching the color of her eyes. She held a large, ornate fan with gold calligraphy that she kept snapping open and closed every few seconds.
Beside her was a round-faced girl wearing a simple peach robe over a gray tunic. Her dark hair was plaited into two braids, the ends of which traveled past her hips. She was remarkably pretty and looked curiously first at me and then at Fox.
But the older woman ignored us, addressing the asha instead. “And what is a man doing inside our asha-ka?” She had a high, penetrating voice that yowled out words rather than spoke them.
“It can’t be helped, Mother. He comes with her.”
The old woman refused to look at me. “Highly improper, highly improper. There are no rooms available for men here, whether they be wretched familiars or not. You know that, Mykaela.”
“The Owajin boardinghouse is only a block away from the district, Mother. I can talk to the mistress there and set up lodgings for him.”
“Do that, but do not arrange for anything more permanent. These wretchlings of yours come and fail so often that it would cost us more in the long run. Have you brought her to the oracle?”
“Not yet, Mother.”
“I don’t see why you bring these waifs here without consulting the oracle. If they do not pass the test, then they are not welcomed here.”
“This one is different.”
“Ha! You thought the same of those other wretchlings! What you consider ‘different’ matters little to me. Your unkempt charge might burn herself out soon enough, and then we would have to shoulder that expense on top of everything. Take her to the oracle, and then we shall see.” She snapped her folding fan close one last time. “Come, Shadi.”
The girl in the peach robe shot us an apologetic look but obeyed.
“That’s your mother?” I whispered to the asha, aghast, as soon as the two had left the room.
Lady Mykaela chuckled. “I call her Mother, but we aren’t related by blood. This is the House Valerian, my asha-ka, and she is Mistress Parmina, who runs it.”
I was even more horrified. One of the books my father had bought for me dealt with the exploits of contemporary asha, and one of the warrior-maidens it told about was a woman named Parmina of the Fires. She had once served as the personal bodyguard to King Farnod, who also happened to be King Telemaine’s father and Prince Kance’s grandfather. The book talked in glorious detail of the many instances she had saved him from an assassin’s blade before leaving to head her own asha-ka. Surely this could not be the same Parmina. The tale I remembered did not match that pinched face and that thin, reedy voice.
“She is one and the same. Do not let her appearance deceive you. She is still a powerful asha in her own right, and she is also one of Kion’s best minds. She’s a bit waspish now, because it is morning and she hates to have her sleep interrupted. Let us bring you to the oracle and prove her wrong.”
“What did she mean about passing a test?” I asked once we were back out in the street. Instead of leaving the district, Lady Mykaela led us even deeper into its center. People stopped to bow low to Lady Mykaela before hurrying on. Some shot Fox and I inquisitive looks but did not linger to ask questions.
“It is a requirement for asha novices to be brought to the oracle but not to pass her test. Many who have failed the first time have gone on to become skilled spellbinders—apprentices must pass only their second tests, when they make their debut. Faceless insurgents have always been a problem, and the first test is simply our way of weeding them out.”
“But if they do not pass—”
“For different reasons, and not because they are spies. Mother, unfortunately, is highly superstitious. If the oracle does not approve of a girl at their first meeting, Mother will not accept her into the Valerian. I believe it has something to do with what the oracle herself told Mother when she was an apprentice.”
I didn’t know what to say. A part of me balked at having traveled so far only to be turned away, but another part rejoiced at the possibility that they would return me to my family if I failed.
“There are many other asha-ka who are willing to take in those who Mother rejects,” Lady Mykaela said, dispelling that last hope. “But do not worry yourself over it. I am certain you will succeed.”
“But…why would she even consider letting bone witches into her asha-ka? Aren’t we bad luck?”
“In Kion, we call ourselves Dark asha. ‘Bone witch’ is offensive here just as much as it is in Odalia, but all asha take offense at the term. And Dark asha are not necessarily a prerequisite to fail the oracle’s test, little one. Mistress Simin, who was head of the Valerian before she died and Mother took over, was also a Dark asha.” She smiled kindly at me. “Do not let the prejudices of a few people affect your place in the greater scheme of Kion. In the Willows, all asha are equally respected.”
The oracle lived in a small shrine at the very center of town. It was small compared to the other asha-ka around it but looked more impressive. It had a double-domed roof, and I could see colorless smoke rising out of its top, like wayward clouds drifting back into the sky. A pillar of thin columns stretched across the entrance before large doors built of polished wood.
“I cannot join you inside,” Lady Mykaela said quietly. “It is forbidden for more than one asha to enter at the same time, so Fox and I will wait here until you return.”
“But what do I do?”
“The oracle will ask you for an item. Take the sapphire pin I had given you for this. Answer her honestly, little one. Asha also means ‘truth,’ and truth is the only weapon you need. The oracle sometimes speaks in riddles, but what she says must remain between the two of you.” A small bell hung from one side. The asha rung it three times, the sound loud
to my ears in the quiet. “Now go. She is waiting.”
The entranceway led to a narrow passage not unlike the one we had entered the Valerian by, lit only by small torches on the walls. The path seemed to go on forever, and it constantly curved to the right like a snake winding around itself, leading into a large room devoid of furniture or decoration.
The first thing I saw when I stepped into the main chamber were the fires. They rose up from a large brazier at the center, but rather than breathe in soot and ash, I found myself taking in the smell of sandalwood. A small figure dressed in white was seated before it, and the train of her dress spread out around her like a pristine fan. A veil was drawn across her face, so I was unable to see her features, but when she lifted an arm, I saw her hand, smooth and unwrinkled.
“What is your sacrifice?” Her voice was like a mournful chorus that spoke as one, and it echoed across the bare room.
I fumbled at my hair and pulled at the pin I wore, the one made from star sapphires.
“Throw it into the fire.”
I hesitated, shocked. Surely Lady Mykaela didn’t mean to give me something so valuable only to be wasted in this manner? My hand wavered between the expensive blue gems and the less costly amethyst with its odd crescent.
The veiled woman made a swift, impatient gesture.
“Throw it into the fire, child.”
It hurt to see those sapphires lost to the flames. The oracle remained unmoved, staring hard at the center of the fire, so close that I feared sparks would fall on her veil and clothes and burn her.
“Do you truly wish to return home, child?”
A yes hovered at my lips, but I hesitated. Lady Mykaela had told me to answer the oracle’s question honestly. All throughout the journey, I had convinced myself that there was nothing I wanted more than to go back home to Knightscross. But then I recalled the hostility of the villagers, people I had long considered to be friends. In truth, I had thought much like them, but now that I was on the other side of that hate, I refused to go back to that way of thinking.
If I did return, I knew they would still treat me differently, even if I never drew the Dark for the rest of my life.
And then there was another reason.
The woman waited. Countless asha must have entered her sanctum, must have wrestled with the same choices I did.
“No.” The word came out small and disbelieving. “I do not wish to return home.”
“Why?”
I swallowed. “Because I like how the power to wield the magic feels.”
The flames seemed to blaze brighter, as if the fire had heard my answer and approved.
“You will change Ankyo, for the good and also for the bad. You will change Kion. You will change the Eight Kingdoms. Return to me once you have entered a mind from where three heads sprout.” And the woman turned away.
As I left the room, I saw her reach toward the fire. I saw the flames curling toward her outstretched hand, like a child would to his mother or a man would to his wife. And then a heavy gust swept through the room, dousing the fires in one swift motion, plunging the room into darkness. I looked over to where the white figure had stood, but she had disappeared with the wind. I was alone.
“Congratulations, Tea.” Lady Mykaela was smiling as I stepped out of the temple. “I knew you could do it.”
“How did you…?”
“The smoke changed,” Fox said quietly. I turned to look and saw it rising out from the covered dome a light blue color, no longer the colorless wisps I’d seen when I entered. We had attracted a small crowd while I was inside, and people were already coming forward, proffering Lady Mykaela their congratulations. The Dark asha’s face beamed; Fox’s looked less enthusiastic.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught someone staring at me. He was swathed in black from head to toe, the way Drychta women preferred their dress. The eyes were veiled, but I had the impression that they were staring straight at me, and it wasn’t friendly.
I blinked, and the apparition was gone from view.
“Tea? Is something wrong?”
It’s nothing.
“It’s nothing,” I echoed and turned away.
“This is an everflowing, and this is a tamarisk.” She touched first one flower and then another. “This one is colchicum. Amaryllis. Burdock. The language of flowers might seem a frivolous concept to most who live outside of our little part of Ankyo, but it’s an important part of our lives. We asha are always expected to be on our most proper behavior, to never have so much as a hair out of turn. Asha do not cry or scream or make threats. When people cut us, we are expected to do only two things: smile and bleed.”
She busied herself with the bouquet arrangement on the table, taking out a flower at one end, adding a few more in other places. Her finger grazed against the petal of a large pink blossom.
“Our houses are named after flowers for a reason. My house, Valerian, means ‘of an accommodating nature.’ Other asha-ka hold similar meanings. Hawkweed is for quick sightedness. Calla means ‘magnificent beauty.’
“It was only after I learned the language of flowers that I learned how inappropriately my sisters were named. Lilac means ‘the first stirrings of love’—and yet my sister Lilac was a spinster, more comfortable in her own company than in others. Marigold was a happy, bouncy girl, though her name meant ‘despair.’ Rose meant ‘beauty,’ but she was the homeliest of us sisters.
“And as for Daisy—”
The long, slim fingers stilled momentarily against the green leaves.
“There are many different kinds of daisies. A garden daisy means ‘I share in your sentiment.’ A wild daisy means ‘I make no promises.’ A Michaelmas daisy is to be an afterthought. And the common daisy means innocence.
“But Daisy died only a few years after I arrived at Kion.”
Her hands moved again, pale against the vibrant flowers.
“In this regard,” she said softly, “I’d like to believe she was quite common.”
7
“Listen here, girl. I don’t need to know your name. I don’t want to know your name. So many girls flutter in and out of this house, running away and getting married and dying and leaving us in the red. You will begin work here as one of our maids. If you last long enough to begin your formal lessons, then I will finance your training to be asha. Until then, you will work at the scullery and clean the rooms and do everything I say if you know what’s good for you.”
This was how Mistress Parmina welcomed me into House Valerian. This was how she welcomed every asha they took in, but I felt that the old woman was more abrupt with me than she might have been with the others. Lady Mykaela had brought half a dozen other girls to Kion before she found me. The old woman refused to accept any of them, certain they would fail their test with the oracle, and was smug when proven right. That I was the exception annoyed her.
It took me several days to get used to the Valerian, and I was amazed at how big it truly was. The asha-ka was three houses joined together by a strip of corridor, with only the main house visible from the outside. The largest room was where Mistress Parmina received visitors, and the smaller rooms along the back were used for sleeping. Mistress Parmina had her own room, and Lady Mykaela and Lady Shadi had theirs as well, despite the long periods of time my mentor spent outside of Kion. A separate path led to the dining area and the scullery, where I and the two maids the asha-ka employed slept. Lady Mykaela also gave me permission to make use of her library whenever she was away, and what little personal time I had was spent reading my way through her impressive collection of books, returning frequently for second and third and seventeenth helpings.
The next was a guesthouse where visitors could spend the night, and that was composed of one large room with multiple screen partitions that could be added to or removed according to the resident’s fancy. The smallest was a bathhouse
made of wood. I learned much later that the water piped into the baths did so through a series of underground springs that traveled through the heart of the Willows and that supplied many of the asha-ka in this manner.
There was a courtyard garden within the house’s walls, which contained a vegetable and herb garden. There was even a tiny pond filled with guppies and a few large turtles.
As the newest member of House Valerian, I was given many chores to do. I was one of the first to wake and spent most of my mornings watering the plants and tending to the vegetable garden, sweeping the floors and the street outside of the house, and cleaning the rooms. I was also given the task of cleaning the outhouses, which I hated most of all, though fortunately the maids and I took turns. Their names were Kana and Farhi, and both were seventeen years old.
Kana was amiable with a blushing, demure prettiness. Her family came from the small village of Belaryu in Southeast Kion, where her grandfather’s ancestors had lived since Empress Undra’s reign over a century ago. Her father sold pomegranates at the city market, and her mother looked after Kana’s siblings, all three younger than she was. She was fond of pretty things and hoped to one day purchase a sivar, like those asha wore, from one of the many hairdressing establishments in the Willows. Mistress Parmina frowned on the maids wearing anything elaborate but allowed her a plain hairpin with a tiny faux ruby set on it, which she wore at all times.
Farhi came from different stock altogether. Her family moved to Kion from Adra-al when she was seven years old, but they continued to cling to their Drychta roots, wearing their traditional dress and veil, though her face was uncovered. To work in the Willows had not been her choice, but the job paid well. She looked on the asha’s fancy hua and its ornaments with disapproval but otherwise kept to herself.
