by Rin Chupeco
“I’ll find him.” I squeezed her hand. “I promise I will.”
“I know, Tea. That I never doubted.” Polaire sighed, her eyes falling shut. “I have been sharing my heartsglass with Mykaela for months now. Another month or so will make no difference. Heartshare. A Compulsion that us regular asha can use.”
“For months? Polaire, how did you know of the rune?”
“Her study,” Polaire mumbled. “Hestia.”
“Mistress Hestia?”
But Polaire was already asleep, her breathing steady.
• • •
The oracle’s temple looked the same as when I had last left it: the same winding halls and confusing corridors, the same fiery pit burning at the center of its only room. The oracle herself was unchanged. Despite the heavy incense, she wore a thick veil to obscure her face. Asha are expected to meet her only thrice during their lifetime: before they are accepted into an asha-ka, when they become an apprentice, and again when they become a full asha. I have visited her twice more after that. She had predicted my bond with the azi and Aenah’s imprisonment. Now I return a third time, seeking more.
Without waiting, I threw one of my zivars into the fire, watched the shiny opal gleam for a moment before disappearing into the flames.
“Did you know this would happen?” I demanded. “Did you know the prince would take sick?”
“As it was written,” the oracle whispered, a chorus of voices accompanying the sound.
“Will he get better? Will Mykaela and Polaire get better?”
“With death shall come enlightenment. It is not Kance who you shall weep over, broken and bleeding. You shall weep once for regret and another for family, one more for mercy and two for love. You must tread on a path of dead, asha. Only then will you find your shadowglass.”
“What deaths?” I cried, but it was useless. The oracle turned away and said nothing more.
Standing outside the temple much later, I made a fateful decision. I scried and reached out—but not to Fox. I followed the spiral of thoughts leading toward the asha-ka and into House Imperial. The mind I entered was a rigid maze, full of right angles and narrow lines. I felt suffocated, undercurrents of thought pushing me in directions I did not want to go. At least with the azi, in its swamp-like mind, I could choose my own paths.
I swam against the tide, struggling, until I found the memory I feared I would find: carefully locked away in a hidden drawer of the mistress’s study was a familiar book of bound leather, the embossed upside-down crown stamped on its cover. But Mistress Hestia’s mind reared up, alarmed, and the image disappeared.
“Do not let Empress Alyx’s submission deceive you. She is wiser than many of the other elder asha.” The bone witch continued to linger by the flowers, inspecting each bud. “Did you notice Mistress Parmina’s hua?”
“I wasn’t sure she could fit through the door, milady.”
“The larger and more flamboyant the hua, the more she liked it. She wasn’t fond of flowers, and yellow carnations are typically worn among the younger asha. It suggests youth not usually attributed to someone of Parmina’s age.”
“Perhaps she didn’t think about the implications.”
“No. Parmina had always been vain about her appearance, always quick to follow the conventions of dress. She is craftier than the elders who rule the association at least.”
“It will take some time before they can muster any attack,” Lord Kalen said, watching the women and their guards ride out of the city from the window. “In the meantime, you need practice. How long has it been since you’ve used your sword?”
The asha had not backed down when up against an empress, an elder asha, and her former mistress. But under Lord Kalen’s raised eyebrow, she wilted. “Several weeks maybe.”
“Tea.”
She raised her hands. “I mourned you for months, and the only thing you single out is that my sword skills are rusty?”
“Are they? Did you seriously think I was going to change because I died?”
She glared at him, and he glared back. She surrendered. “I suppose not.”
Without warning, Lord Kalen pulled her close to him and kissed her hard.
She whimpered softly.
“Get your sword.”
It was a dance of blades. Her fierceness met his skill, matching him stroke for stroke. The bone witch worked hard for every parry and blow, but the Deathseeker’s shoulders were relaxed, deftly avoiding the brunt of her attacks but taking his time to counter.
Finally, the asha’s blade snapped against his shin. They stopped; the girl was breathing hard, and the boy not at all.
“You let me win!” she finally growled, but the frown never quite reached her burning eyes, bright from more than just the fight.
“I always let you win.” He sidestepped her fury, caught her mouth in his again. She resisted at first, still in protest, but gave up soon enough, leaning into his taller frame. Red-faced, I turned to watch Khalad at work instead. The Heartforger’s eyes were on the clay before him, but he was grinning. “Get a room, you two.”
“A good idea.” The Deathseeker lifted the asha in his arms and carried her across the hall, her halfhearted, half-laughing protests carrying through the corridors, the first genuine sounds of mirth since we had arrived.
15
I had no delusions that Kalen would resume his sword practice sessions with me after everything that happened, so I took the initiative. The revelations my scrying uncovered had kept me awake the night before, and I was haunted by their implications. If Aenah spoke the truth about Hestia, then was she right about others? Did the elder asha hide Mykaela’s heartsglass and not Vanor?
I chased those thoughts until morning and found, despite my lack of sleep, I had excess energy that needed spending.
I knew Kalen trained at dawn. The look on his face when he found me waiting at the courtyard, my practice sword at the ready, would have been funny in any other circumstance.
“Get out,” he said curtly, though it was he who turned to leave. I was ready for his rejection, shrugging off the twinge of hurt.
“You promised Prince Kance you would protect me.”
He stopped. I pushed on.
“You might not like me right now, but I’m prepared to make it up to you any way I can. I want to save him too. And if that means learning to defend myself better, then I’ll be damned if you let your opinion of me break your oath to the prince.”
For several moments, he stood as still as the wind. I closed my eyes, prepared for him to rebuff me again. Images of the azi passed through my mind; it was sailing leisurely along the Sea of Skulls, by Tresea’s coast. I watched the sparkling waters underneath us, wishing I could sink down into it.
A rustling noise made me open my eyes again. Kalen had stripped off his coat, his chest bare. I remembered how he looked at Lake Strypnyk, near naked and soaking wet (magnificent, a hidden voice inside me trilled), and I frantically ripped away my gaze, looking up to meet his brown eyes instead.
“What are you waiting for?” he rasped.
An hour later, I regretted my offer. Fox had wandered in—first to watch and then to keep score. Seventeen for Kalen. A measly four for me.
I hopped back and charged again. He parried my attack and swung overhead, but I was ready this time and blocked. He was tougher and more relentless than before, and I realized then how much he’d been holding back in our previous spars.
“Stop,” Fox finally said after Kalen scored another hit. I dropped to my knees, puffing, annoyed that he’d barely even broken a sweat.
“Better form than usual,” the Deathseeker said, surprisingly. Then, because he could never stop at a compliment when he could also add an insult, he continued, “But not all that much better.”
I bit back a retort. I was used to Kalen’s snide criticisms, but I wa
sn’t used to the cold way he said them, like he meant it this time. The azi let out a baleful sigh, sensing my thoughts.
My brother approached us, weapon in hand. “Too tired to go another round?” he asked, grinning.
“Not after this small fry.” Kalen abandoned the practice sword for his own steel blade.
Watching Kalen and Fox fight was like watching two of Vahista’s best asha perform the Lament of the Goddess, the most difficult dance in the academy’s repertoire. I moved back and caught sight of Princess Inessa standing nearby, away from their line of sight.
Fox moved first. Steel sang as blade met blade. Both men moved far quicker than I ever could, switching tactics and counterattacks in mere seconds.
Fox charged forward, and Kalen shifted to one side, sword sliding inches past my brother’s ear. Without hesitating, he turned and swept his blade up, but Fox ducked underneath the blow and swung again, only to be met by another parry. Princess Inessa took a step forward, hand over her mouth.
“Don’t,” I said quietly. “They’re having fun.”
She nodded, her eyes straying back toward the fight. “How are Mykaela and Polaire?”
“Still unconscious.” Althy had told me that sleeping was their body’s natural response to healing, that neither was in any immediate danger.
“Fox never told you about me, did he?” she asked softly. “I presumed many things about your bond that were not, in fact, accurate.”
“It isn’t any of my business, Your Highness.”
“Call me Inessa.” We watched the two in silence for several minutes, neither of them gaining the advantage for too long. “I’ve known Kalen since I was very young,” she said finally. “He’s Odalia’s best fighter, better than any in Kion. Your brother is extremely competent.”
“He told me he wasn’t very good back when he was alive.” The princess winced at my words. “But he had to match with the best in the kingdoms to be my protector. I sensed some tension between you and Kalen,” she said. “Are you all right?”
“Not really.” I should’ve be watching my brother, should’ve be cheering him on, but I had eyes for only Kalen.
“Should I talk to him?”
“No!” Inessa blinked, and I hastily lowered my voice. “No. I have to work out things with him on my own.”
“Do you like him?”
I looked at her but couldn’t think of anything to say. Me, like Kalen? Of course not, I liked…
“I don’t know,” I said. “I want him to like me, but…”
Inessa smiled reassuringly, patted my hand. “Sorry. You don’t need to say anything. I understand. I was confused for the longest time too, trying to figure out what I wanted—who I wanted.” Her gaze drifted back to the sparring. “Fighting styles weren’t likely to come up in conversation when I was with him.”
“So you were often with…how…?”
She grinned. “As often as I could. They say Kion princesses enjoy more freedom, but that’s not true. Oh, we have the run of the palace, but it is a different story beyond castle walls. I snuck out one night, determined to see more of the city I was to one day rule yet knew little of.
“I was curious about the dancing houses that are so popular among the people. An atelier had once made me a dancer’s hua. It was the most fun I’ve ever had. My dancing tutors were asha, so I reckoned I could perform with the best. It was easy to slip on a veil and pretend I was just one of the many girls there.”
Her voice softened. “Fox arrived in the middle of my performance. Unlike his friends, he was embarrassed to be there, but he couldn’t take his eyes off me. He said my dance reminded him of a dance he’d seen his sister perform.” Summer over Istera, I remembered. “I found it adorable, the self-conscious, almost guilty way he stammered, like he’d stumbled onto secrets he wasn’t supposed to know.”
I tried to imagine my brother as self-conscious and stuttering and couldn’t.
“I snuck out a week later and saw him again. His friends told me he visited the dancing house every day, hoping to see me.” The princess blushed, faltering. “He never told you about me?”
“Being my familiar doesn’t mean he tells me everything.” Both Fox and Kalen showed no signs of letting up, and a curious crowd had gathered to watch them spar. Among the onlookers, I saw some of Kalen’s friends, fellow Deathseekers I had met before: Ostry, Mavren, and Alsron, Farragut and Levi. I continued, “I knew there was someone he was very much taken with. It didn’t feel right to pry.”
“I intend to honor my engagement. My mother might have agreed to it in my name, but it is my duty to follow through.” She laughed. “We’re good at keeping up the pretense of free will. Few people know what few choices we truly have.”
She turned to look at me. “I wanted you to hear my side of the story. Not that it matters now.”
“It does.” It was my turn to pat her hand. “And I admit, I would have wanted to learn about this sooner. But Fox cares about you.” I stressed the word, watching her surprise. “Still does. It doesn’t sound like you’re ready to let go of your relationship, and I know he isn’t either.” I could meddle as well as my sister Daisy if I wanted to.
Something akin to hope appeared in her eyes and spread across her heartsglass. “Do you—”
A shout from the field made us turn. Fox had made a slight mistake—a forward jab an inch more than he should have. Kalen altered the stroke of his swing, and the blade glanced off Fox’s shoulder.
I gasped, and Inessa’s hand gripped at her collar, nearly yanking it off. Her heartsglass burned a bright blue.
Fox moved back, grinning ruefully. “Point to you.”
The audience broke into applause, Ostry and the others leading the cheers. “Fine job, you two!” The burly Yadoshan called to them. “Never thought I’d see the day someone could give Kalen a run for his money!”
“A run for my money too,” Levi grumbled. “I bet Alsron the familiar would win.”
“Watch out, Kalen,” Mavren laughed. “Sir Fox shall outstrip you soon enough!”
Kalen wrinkled his nose, used to his friends’ jesting, but he was smiling.
Inessa grabbed one of the wooden swords propped against the wall and made a beeline for them.
My brother moved quickly in battle, but he seemed paralyzed as the princess approached. The crowd went quiet.
“You told me I was useless because I couldn’t protect myself or my fiancé.” Inessa planted herself before him, one hand on her hip. Her heartsglass wobbled between unsteady blue and deep maroon, but she lifted the sword and pointed it at him. “Teach me then. Teach me how to use a sword.”
“Kalen would make a better instructor.”
“Kalen is busy seeing to Tea.” I turned red at her remark. “You are the only fighter here who can match his skill.” Inessa lifted her face, defiant, and threw the sword at his feet. Her other hand came up and tugged at her collar again. “Or are you not good enough for a princess?”
There was a long silence. Finally, Fox spoke. “Pick up the sword.”
Inessa paused, her turn to be wary.
“Pick it up, Princess. When facing an opponent in battle, the last thing you should do is throw your only weapon at his feet. Bravado only gets you killed.” Fox sheathed his own blade and picked up the wooden sword. “Put your dominant foot forward, grip the sword like this, and don’t lock your elbows. I said do it!”
The words cut through the air like a whip, and though Inessa looked both alarmed and murderous by this sudden change in attitude, she hurriedly complied.
Being a bastard to her isn’t going to help, I told Fox.
That’s not my problem.
Sometimes I want to throttle you.
Get in line. It’s a long one. “Now stab me.”
“What?” the princess asked.
“First rule of swo
rdsmanship. You take the pointy end of that weapon you’re holding and try to stab me with it.”
“Shouldn’t we put a stop to this?” Mavren whispered to Alsron.
“You try. I’m not going to put myself within sword range of either.”
“Do they know each other?” Ostry asked me. “I didn’t realize.”
“It’s a long story.”
The princess’s technique needed work, but her strength was surprising. Her blade rammed hard into his side. She stopped, panicked. “Why aren’t you defending yourself?”
“Because you don’t want to harm anyone, and that will kill you. Until we wean you of that fear, you’re useless in a fight. There is no room for hesitation in battle, Inessa.” He paused. “And if you want to vent any frustrations you might have at the moment, I’m the only person in Ankyo who can take it.”
I could see Inessa was tempted by the offer—for all of two seconds. She raised her sword and threw it. The sword whizzed past Fox and clattered against the wall behind him. To his credit, my brother didn’t blink.
“I wish I could,” Inessa informed him quietly, breathing hard. “I’d like to. But even if I wanted to hit you, the only trouble that would cause is to Tea. I won’t hesitate if it comes to a fight. But I don’t want to always be a victim. Teach me to be useful. Please.”
A reluctant smile found its way to Fox’s face. “You have a good throwing arm.”
“But very poor aim,” she informed him, and he started to laugh.
Kalen waited long enough to ensure neither Fox or Inessa were going to kill each other, then quietly withdrew. I caught up to him by the entrance to the palace.
“Are you going to ignore me from now on when we’re not sparring?”
