by Rin Chupeco
He ignored me. I grabbed him by the elbow.
“Can’t you at least let me apologize?”
“Why? So you can do it again at the next opportunity?” His voice was cold.
“They’d torture you if you stayed behind! They’d execute you, duke’s son or not!”
“That’s my decision to make!”
“No, it’s not!” A few people stared, but I was too caught up in my own emotions to care. “You know you could do nothing for Prince Kance if you remained behind, and he would’ve never forgiven us if you got yourself killed for the most idiotic of reasons!”
“You do not speak for Kance!”
“Yes, I do! His last request was for you to protect me, and I am making damn sure you carry that out! Kance wants you alive, Kalen, and so do I! I want you to be with me for as long as we can be together. I don’t want you to die, you ass! I had a choice between letting you kill yourself and keeping you alive but having you hate me for the rest of your life, and I chose the latter!”
The Deathseeker paused.
Emboldened, I pushed on. “And even with that, I still want you to like me. If not as a friend, then as allies working to make sure Prince Kance is safe. So yes, I’m selfish. I’ve always been selfish. That won’t change anytime soon. And you may not like me, but you’re my bodyguard now. And if the only way I can stop you from throwing away your life is to compel you and everyone in Ankyo, I will if I have to!”
The hall was silent by the time I was done. I was not making any new friends with my words, but I was too focused on Kalen to care. I wove Heartshare briskly, and his eyes widened.
“This is the rune Polaire cast over Mykaela.” My voice was quieter, reassured that no one else could see. “It’s used mostly for healing, but it also grants one person control over another willing spellbinder. The only way I can think for you to forgive me is to put myself in the same position I put you in.” I guided the rune toward him; it hovered over his heartsglass. After a moment, he accepted, the rune flaring around him before disappearing.
“I’m not going to dispel it,” I continued, “which means you can choose to take control anytime you like. Go ahead. I’ll submit to whatever you want.”
The Deathseeker stared at me, and his silver heartsglass shifted to a bright, brilliant red. Why was my offer making him madder?
“This is the least sincere apology I’ve ever heard. Did you think I was going to take you up on your offer? To do what? Clean the barracks for me?”
My cheeks burned. “I’m trying my best! I don’t know any other way!”
“Do you know what I really want, Tea?” He stepped closer. “Do you want another look inside my head?” He forced my chin up so I couldn’t look away.
This was different. He was different. He was using me as an outlet but for an anger that was, oddly enough, no longer directed at me. “If you knew what I was thinking, would you still be so willing?”
We were still, him and me, staring at each other, my breathing embarrassingly loud. What does he mean?
“I don’t need the rune. If you promise to stay out of my head,” he continued, in a lower voice, “then I will obey Kance and protect you with my life. That’s all the apology I want.”
His animosity had retreated. There was a strange gravity to his words.
“I promise, with all my heart,” I said softly. “I’ll never do that to you again.”
He placed a hand on top of my head—easy to do given his height but annoying to be on the receiving end of given my temperament. He drew closer again—too close—and my heart sped up.
“Apology accepted. For now. Inept as it was.”
He walked away. This time, I didn’t chase after him. He didn’t reject the rune but neither did he take me up on my offer.
The spell continued to hover between us, along with all my other unspoken questions. But though I tried to lift my fingers to dispel the rune, I couldn’t find the courage to carry out the act.
• • •
The room allotted for me at the palace was three times as large as my old room at the Valerian—staying at my asha-ka would not have been prudent. As I walked in, I was stunned to see it filled with beautiful hua of every fabric and color. My dresser overflowed with countless zivars where all kinds of gemstones shone. From within the hidden depths of my mind, the azi stirred, curious at the glint of jewels. Zoya was in the room, a dreamy smile on her face.
“What’s going on?” I sputtered.
“As part of the delegation into Daanoris, the empress said we must look the part—which, by Kion standards, is to be as ostentatious as possible. We shall all be the poster girls of hua excessiveness before this is over.”
“There you are!” A loud, booming voice was the only warning I received before I was swept into a bear hug by Rahim. Chesh popped up from somewhere behind him, grinning, and with her was Likh, who had shed the customary black clothes he had been given and now wore something more familiar to me: a hua of amber and blue, with beautiful koi swimming down the folds. Councilor Ludvig accompanied them, smiling.
I squealed happily and turned, trying to wrap my arms around Rahim’s massive shoulders. This was proving difficult because he refused to relinquish his bear hug. I settled for clinging to one giant forearm instead. I extended my other hand to Chesh, who wasted no time hurrying in for a hug of her own. “I missed you guys.” It hadn’t been that long since the last time I’d been in Kion, but after our escape, it felt like years had passed.
“We were so worried!” Chesh stroke my hair. “We heard about what happened to the prince. I’m glad you’re here!”
“The empress, she says it is dangerous for you to walk in the Willows still,” Rahim proclaimed, still holding me in his death grip.
“Fah!” I said. “What do elders know? They go around, grimacing in their dull hua and their shades of blech. Shall they decide who I can and cannot take in as clients? Even if Empress Alyx did not insist, I shall dress you well and spit in their faces! Pshah, like so! And so here I rush, armed with my best designs. You represent the ateliers of Kion and must have only the best to show! I can’t possibly afford all these!” I protested.
“The empress is footing the bill,” Chesh pointed out. “She insisted we provide you with the highest quality silks that Rahim possesses, as well as the best of the zivars in my inventory. That goes for you too, Likh.”
“Me?”
“I understand that the elders have not yet made a decision regarding your petition, but the empress insists you be outfitted as an asha regardless.”
Likh’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Lady Chesh.”
“Don’t lose heart so easily, Likh my dear.” Chesh hugged her former assistant. “Let’s get to work! Lady Tea, I have several accessories I want you to look at. Empress Alyx wanted me to fashion the strongest protection spells for you.”
“A rightful decision of the empress,” Mistress Parmina snorted, stomping into the room with Shadi and Althy close behind. “And at such exorbitant rates, even for you, my dear Rahim! What of our wayward Dark asha?” Mistress Parmina gestured at me. “Mykaela missing in Odalia, and Polaire along with her. My Dark asha, wanted fugitives in Telemaine’s kingdom! The elders in particular are not happy about you and the empress defying their wishes! Imagine how much revenue that will cost our asha-ka, hmm? A wardrobe full of hua and zivars will not be enough if we are known as criminals!”
For the right price, Mistress Parmina would stick a knife into every one of those elders herself, but two years living under her asha-ka had taught me the importance of silence. I waited for Shadi to speak up. She did not disappoint.
“I’ve just received our account reports from Ula this morning, Mother. All our asha in Kion have been booked solid for the next six months.”
Mistress Parmina’s head spun so fast, it was like an old barn owl swiveling its head.
“How so?”
“The nobles are intrigued, Mother. To be a fugitive in Odalia is not the same as being a fugitive in Kion. Even given Tea’s unavailability, it is enough for them to be associated with the asha-ka she belongs to.”
“And also, my dear Parminchka,” Rahim broke in, releasing me so I could finally draw breath, “you forget about the untapped potential that is the eager Daanorian public. Their emperor is enamored of both our princess and of asha. Perhaps in the near future, there will then be visitors from Daanoris, asking for beautiful asha of the Valerian they have heard so much about?”
Mistress Parmina visibly thawed. “Well. I suppose the asha-ka must continue to grow. And as the Empress Alyx has vouchsafed all expenses, I see no reason why you should not do as she asks.”
Rahim winked at me.
I drew Althy to one side. “I think the elder asha might have something to do with the troubles in Odalia,” I told her quietly.
She stared. “And how did you come to that conclusion?”
“Polaire didn’t learn of the Heartshare rune from the book. She told me she’d found it in Mistress Hestia’s study.”
“She’s not in the best frame of mind. How can you be so sure?”
Telling her I’d snooped in Mistress Hestia’s mind would only land me in more trouble. “I trust Polaire.”
“But why would they do that?”
“I don’t know yet. I was hoping you could help me with that.”
Althy looked troubled. “The elder asha and I don’t always see eye to eye, Tea, but to accuse them of what is practically treason…you might not like them, but they are loyal to Kion.”
“Please, Althy.”
The older woman sighed. “If you believe there is something suspicious there, then I will take a look. But we must keep it quiet. We are already in enough hot water without more accusations.”
“A moment of your time, Lady Tea?” Councilor Ludvig asked me as Althy left.
“I have been struggling with my conscience for a while now,” he continued as Rahim pounced on Zoya and Likh in turn. “Alyx is aware of this latest development, and I feel it is important to let you know.”
“What is it, milord? Did something happen to Mykaela or Polaire?” I asked with concern.
“No, there is no change in either. I am close friends with the father of Baron Cyran, the youth who succumbed to the sleeping illness some years ago. The lad woke up yesterday.”
“What?!”
“Say nothing of this to anyone, save your brother and Khalad—and perhaps your small circle of asha friends who will be going with you to Daanoris. Istera is keeping his miraculous recovery a secret from the rest of the kingdoms, and I trust you will do the same. The Heartforger came to us with a cure last month.”
My hands shook, hope bubbling inside me. “Then that means…Prince Kance—”
The old man shook his head. “I do not know yet. It was the forger who requested secrecy, and I suspect he is at Daanoris, attempting to do the same to Princess Yansheo. He left us no clue how to replicate his cure. He is the key to Prince Kance’s life, Tea. This is promising, but locating him is imperative.”
Likh and I emerged a short time later with an armful of hua. Zoya remained behind; I saw her take Shadi’s hands in hers as we were leaving. Likh clung to his share, terrified that someone might snatch them away from him at any minute.
“You better get used to this,” I told him, my head still spinning from Councilor Ludvig’s revelation. The forger could cure Prince Kance. The forger could cure Prince Kance! “Rahim’s been looking at you like a cat looks at tuna. He’s been looking for a new model for his latest summer collection.”
“I hope I don’t cause trouble for him,” Likh said, worrying. “Or Chesh.”
“They’re the most popular artisans in their trades, and their opinions aren’t easily dismissed. You’re an asha whatever the association decides, Likh. Don’t you forget that.”
“And if they decide against me,” the boy said dreamily, rubbing his cheek against the exceptionally soft satin, “then at least I’ll have all this to remember it by.”
The Heartforger paid little attention to the approaching army outside, more concerned with the strange lightning-shaped beads he was forging. His calm unnerved me.
“There will be no more lives lost among the Daanorians, Yansheo,” the asha promised the princess. “Not while I breathe.”
“But how? At least two kingdoms stand against us.”
“Trust me. Khalad?”
“A day or two more is all I need.”
“What is he doing?” I asked. “What are these urvan? Who do these souls belong to, and what do you intend to do with them?”
The Heartforger and the bone witch glanced at each other. “I told you how the old Heartforger had an antidote to the sleeping sickness,” the girl said slowly. “This is part of the remedy.”
“But no one is afflicted with the sleeping sickness here.”
The bone witch smiled. “Khalad and I have since found other uses for the antidote. I have learned that when heartforgers are involved, nothing is impossible.”
Lord Khalad shrugged. “No more so than Dark asha. Silver heartsglass cannot be raised from the dead, Tea—yet my cousin stands here with us. I have worked easier miracles.”
“For what use?” I insisted.
“To you, deprived of heartsglass, seeking Blade that Soars’s path,” she quoted. “Take that which came from Five Great Heroes long past and distill it into a heart of silver to shine anew. Khalad remembers every heartsglass he touches and can create copies of their urvan if needed. I wear Hollow Knife’s darksglass, but I shall need lightsglass. I intend to have both before long, to create shadowglass.”
“You intend to become immortal?” I was crushed, betrayed. What good was her hatred for the Faceless when she walked the same path?
The bone witch looked back out the window.
“I intend to die,” she said.
16
Our group was to be few in number: Fox, Kalen, Councilor Ludvig, and me. I had told Fox about Baron Cyran’s recovery and the forger’s visit, and he agreed it would be prudent not to say more to anyone else. But after thought and my last encounter with Kalen still on my mind, I had told the Deathseeker as well and asked if he would accompany us.
Then Likh came, unusually insistent and blushing. At the last minute, Inessa announced she and Althy would also be joining us.
“I want Khalad to take another look at Kance’s heartsglass,” she explained. “He might have something in his workshop that can provide more clues.”
The Willows was different from the rest of the city. Magic was a mandatory experience among the asha-ka, and one expected to find beautiful women there in expensive garments, with runes as easy to discern as the wind. Most people in downtown Ankyo, from the richest nobles to the lowest trader, steeped their bodies in magic. I could smell it in their hair, in their clothes, in the jewelries they wore.
Shops sold clothes with runic spells stitched into the fabric at a quality below authorized atelier shops, but the garments were affordable to most. There were different strains of inferior runeberry drinks, zivars promising all sorts of dubious abilities, and quack love potions. Numerous stalls lined the streets, specializing in spells of varying successes. What they lacked in authenticity, they more than made up for in demand.
“Kion,” I heard Kalen mutter behind me, the wryness in his tone unmistakable. “The city of plenty.”
We traveled through the widest, busiest streets first, where people wore heartsglass cases in elaborate metalwork. But the spells grew fewer and the garments simpler as the streets narrowed until we reached the poorest districts, where mud-smeared children played in front of decrepit gray houses. Men and women in drab clothing and hard faces hung linens from clotheslines or loitered
in groups and stared as we passed. The air smelled of rotten eggs and discarded trash, unflavored by spells.
“For a city that looks as rich as Kion, I never imagined it would have such poor in these numbers,” Inessa murmured, looking stricken. She gripped her cloak, and I saw numerous cuts and bruises covering her hands and arms. Fox was as hard a taskmaster as Kalen.
“Cities are the same the world over,” Councilor Ludvig said. “The greater the stench of the city’s poor, the more extravagant the lives of the city’s rich.”
“We try our best,” Inessa said. “We created food programs. We try to find them decent places to live. But sometimes people slip through the cracks.”
“These are mighty big cracks,” Fox said. Princess Inessa looked away.
Our journey ended in a narrow lane too small to be called a street at a shack between two crumbling houses abandoned by even the most desperate. The path was filled with people, wretched and sickly.
The princess took a step back. Kalen forged on ahead, but a chorus of angry cries greeted him when he stepped past the line. I grabbed his arm, tugging him back.
“We were here first!” an old woman shouted shrilly.
“We’ve been waiting to see the boy!” another man shouted. “My child is sick. We will not wait another day more!”
“What is all this?” Likh gasped.
“They have come for the Heartforger,” Althy said. Few here could afford heartsglass cases, so many kept them in small bottles worn around their necks, and most glowed an unhealthy green. “They cannot afford a doctor.”
“And Lord Khalad and his master treat them?”
“As frequently as their time allows. The Heartforger is often away, so these duties have fallen to Khalad. Why did you think he left the palace?”
Kalen scowled. “We’ll be lucky to see him today.”
“Their ailments are common enough,” I observed, watching a heartsglass near me flicker the bright emerald color of bronchitis. “Fox, where is the nearest shop selling pots and pans?”
“There is one not too far from here,” Kalen said before my brother could speak. “I’ve been there before.”
