The Shadowglass

by Rin Chupeco

  Likh hiccupped with laughter. “I wish that were the only reason I’m here. No, I don’t have much of a choice anymore. I had to come. Otherwise, I’d probably be dead.”

  “What?”

  “Delve me.”

  Even before I’d finished the spell, I could see the glowing red creeping up his shoulders. My thoughts turned to ice. Now I understood the odd silence cloaking Likh. Runic wards were suppressing him from using magic—and from having magic used against him. “No. Oh no. Oh, Likh.”

  “I’ve been blighted,” Likh said. His smile was both sad and beautiful. “I’m sorry, Tea. I’m not cut out to be an asha after all.”

  • • •

  The hasty flight from Kion had not been kind to my complexion. Languishing in dungeons for days tended to do that to a person. Khalad told us that the Yadoshans would be waiting for us once we entered Thanh territory, and I’d asked for time to bathe and make myself presentable. The Ashi river, named for the Great Hero herself and very unlike her namesake, was a wide, mellow stream perfect for that purpose.

  I held my breath and dunked my head underneath the icy-cold waters. For a brief moment, I was tempted to let go, to drift until I reached the faster currents, to disappear for good. My death, I thought, would solve so many problems. Khalad would get away with aiding my escape by virtue of his position, and Kalen would likely be pardoned for letting his heart overrule his head. Likh would be spared for simply obeying his superiors. If I was being framed for the blight epidemic, then there was no one else to blame. And under closer watch, the Blight spell on Likh would dissipate.

  But a new thought entered my head, unannounced and unapologetic for its trespass. It was Fox, sitting in the very dungeons where I had been imprisoned. His expression was relaxed, head tilted toward the little sunlight that slipped through the bars. The Veiling was down, possibly because the Willows warded the prison despite Fox’s lack of magic, though he was oblivious to my presence. I retreated, closing my mind quietly and sealing it shut. He’d been imprisoned in my stead, no doubt accused of helping me flee. That snapped me out of my misery. I came up for air, sputtering.

  “Idiot!” Kalen, who had been keeping watch from the banks, had stripped off his cloak and his armor and stood a few feet from me, his breeches soaked and his face glowering.

  “I wasn’t going to drown myself,” I lied.

  “Don’t scare me like that.” He reached for me, and I let myself float into his arms. Only after I was firmly secured did his grip relax. “I told you I’d look after you, and I meant every word.”

  “I know.” I leaned my head against his chest. “Sorry.”

  “We’ll fight for you, Tea. I’ll stake my life on yours.”

  “How did you know I didn’t kill Daisy? Who else could it have been? And with my dagger? Fox was convinced. What other evidence do you need? Even I think I must have done it.” I plunged my hands back underneath the water, frantically scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing, trying to rid myself of the blood that lingered underneath my fingernails, in the places I could feel but not see. “She’s still on me, Kalen. Daisy’s blood is on me, and I can’t get it off. I can’t. I can’t—”

  He grabbed my hands, stilling their movements. “I love you, and I know you didn’t do it. I don’t give a damn what Fox saw. We shared—share—heartsglass, Tea. I can sense you, and I know you didn’t do it. We might not have the same bond as you have with Fox, but there is nothing in you to convince me that you willfully and deliberately killed Daisy.”

  “How can you be so sure?” I trembled, so filled with love for him that I was afraid my heartsglass would break. “How can you be so sure of me when not even I am?”

  He looked at me like I was precious and kissed me. “I know you, and I will always know you. Tea—that night when Polaire—” His voice still broke at the mention of her name. “When Polaire died, I felt you kill Aenah, and I felt your grief. I felt the hatred you were capable of like it was my own. And in that instant, I loved the darkest part of you, because I understood, better than Fox or Mykaela could. I’ve known you at your worst. And even at your worst, you would never kill your sister.”

  I cried. He held me until I had no more tears left to shed. His heartsglass was warm against my cheek, despite the morning cold. “I don’t know that I deserve you,” I managed.

  He kissed my fingertips. “We will find a way, Tea. Khalad told you about our suspicions, didn’t he? Since when have I ever been wrong? These blackouts you suffer from—they explain your nearly jumping out the library window. There’s more to this than we know, and time away from Kion should rid you of any poison in your blood.”

  “I…I want to believe these blackouts are because of some toxin. But my blackouts can’t absolve me from murder. And oh, Likh. What happened to Likh?”

  He sobered. “We’re still working on that. We discovered the rune shortly after they arrested you. I don’t understand it either—he ate all the same foods we had. Althy and Shadi were convinced he hadn’t consumed anything they or your mother hadn’t prepared. It was his idea to place himself under wards. We thought it best that he come with us, to give the rune time to dissipate on its own.”

  “But when we return to Kion, it won’t stop someone from trying again—”

  “What if we don’t go back?” He stroked my cheek. “What if we never go back to Kion? Then you would have no need to be a bone witch. Likh has no reason or desire to return, and most other kingdoms would be glad to have a heartforger like Khalad nearby. If we hide well enough, the elders will stop seeking you out.”

  “I can’t ask that of you.”

  “I know you, Tea. Your sense of responsibility is keeping you from agreeing with me. If this is the only peace we can know, then let us disappear.”

  “But your titles! You’re a prince, a cousin to Kance—”

  “Titles are worthless to me,” Kalen said gently. “Tea, I rejected my father’s dukedom. I have distant relations to the south and turned my titles over to them. They’re decent folk and should carry the position well. I’m rarely in Holsrath, and Deathseekers are supposed to forsake all titles anyway, no matter how many times Kance or Alyx insist. There is nothing tying me anywhere, nothing tying me to anyone but you. We can talk more about this once we arrive in Thanh. In the meantime, wear this.”

  It was a simple, pink rose pin, set in silver but otherwise unadorned. “Likh made it for you,” he said. “It will mask the black in your heartsglass until we can figure out how to get rid of it.”

  I knew I couldn’t change his mind—for now—and sighed. “This could have waited until I was dry, Kalen.”

  “Well, the Grand Duke Besserly and the other Yadoshans are waiting for us at camp, and while they’re not as knowledgeable about heartsglass, I thought it best to be prudent. We can—”

  I nearly shot out of the water. “Lord Besserly is here? And you’ve been letting me prattle on this long?”

  “The Creator himself can wait. I wanted to talk with you first. We can…we can stay in Yadosha. We can go anywhere you want. We don’t have to return to Kion. Can we both promise not to make any drastic decisions until we have that conversation?”

  I looked up at him, at his earnest, worried face. He was right; he knew me better than I knew myself. He had known my thoughts when I had plunged into the river, torn between reaching for the surface or sinking down. It was not quite a familiar’s bond. It was more distant yet more intimate. “I swear,” I whispered, “that I will never hide anything from you ever again.”

  • • •

  The Yadoshans were a notoriously rowdy group, but Lord Besserly was a tactful man when he wanted to be. He was also a courteous and pragmatic one, paying no attention to my wet hair or to the state of Kalen’s clothes. “Lady Mykaela has briefed me on your arrival, Lady Tea. On behalf of the city-states of Yadosha, I extend our hospitality to you and your f
riends for as long as you see fit. Please allow us to escort you to Thanh, where we have made what I hope are ample accommodations. Is there anything your ladyship would like assistance with? Is the azi still around, perhaps?”

  “I’m afraid the azi has left, milord,” I told him. “I’ve learned from experience that it has a tendency to make people nervous with its presence.”

  The duke’s face fell. “And I was so looking forward to seeing it.”

  “The next time I require its aid, you’ll be the first I call, Your Excellency.”

  “I would like that very much. Is there anything else before we leave, milady?”

  “A moment, if you will.” I closed my eyes and explored my mind, coming to rest on the door between myself and Fox. Painstakingly, sorrowfully, before I could make myself change my mind, I reinforced the strength of the barrier, separating any lingering traces of my thoughts from his.

  He couldn’t be a part of this. Mykaela had access to the same runes I had, and it would be easier for her to verify that Fox knew nothing about what I choose to do from now on. This was the only gift I could grant him, the only way he could find some semblance of a normal life with Inessa as long as the threat of arrest and execution hung over my head.

  For nearly five years, I had been connected to my brother, and the act of separating myself from him was almost physically painful. It felt like I was saying good-bye to a part of myself that I might never get back.

  But even as I disentangled the last threads between our consciences, I waited for a sign, some acknowledgment that he was aware of what I was doing. But there was no angry tirade, no desperate plea for me to stop—nothing.

  And so, not wanting to erupt into another fresh wave of tears after having already spent myself earlier that day, I fortified the wall between us and opened my eyes.

  “Lead the way, Your Excellency.”

  Everyone whose feet so much as touched Valerian territory was thoroughly questioned about the missing pages from Lady Tea’s writing. Councilor Ludvig had seen no one suspicious, nor had Lord Fox, Princess Inessa, and Lady Altaecia. Zoya disavowed any knowledge of the missing pages, though she and Lady Shadi were the last people in their vicinity before the theft was discovered. None of the elder asha were sighted near the asha-ka. The lone remaining maid, the young girl the Dark asha fondly called Farhi, took offense when I asked her.

  “Are you suggesting that I am disloyal to my mistresses?” she demanded.

  “No. I didn’t mean—”

  “I am not! Once, in the past, I had been accused, and my innocence was proven. The Lady Tea—I do not always agree with her ideas, but she has always been good to me. She gave me sweets and food when it could have caused her trouble, and she took on chores without telling Mistress Parmina when I was sick. Even now I keep her room neat and tidy, so that when she returns, she cannot say I have been negligent in my duties.” She glared fiercely at me; even this far from her motherland, she polished her Drychta pride until it shone. “I stole nothing, and you will tell the Lady Tea when you see her that I repay my debts always, that my loyalty cannot be bought for a thousand shekels or even more.”

  I started to doubt myself. Perhaps the bone witch had never intended to give me her full story. Perhaps the Dark asha herself had suppressed those final lines, denying everyone an ending until she could tell it on her own terms. Maybe—

  No. I remembered the precise way she had summoned me, the painstaking measures she adopted, the cunning way she constructed contingencies atop contingencies. Her desire to see her story through to the end. She would not leave it half-finished.

  My options depleted, I fell back to blaming myself. I could do little in battle. I was not a vaunted strategist like Lady Altaecia or the Isteran adviser. I had no resources I could offer, had nothing to my name but my prose. I was the protector of her words, and even there, in that simplest of tasks, I had failed.

  It was my kinsman, Lord Garindor, who offered the most logical solution. “You know two things,” he pointed out. “The first, you must find Lady Tea to learn what you have lost. It’s not an easy task, but I have faith.”

  “And what is the second?”

  “There is someone here in Ankyo who seeks to sow discord and spread chaos. Perhaps an enemy of Lady Tea, one responsible for her imprisonment—perhaps even the murderer of her sibling or a catalyst of her murder. Did not her letters say that the young Likh had been poisoned by the Blight, despite the great pains taken to monitor their food and drink? There was a traitor among them there, and there may still be one now.”

  Lord Fox and Princess Inessa took his words as seriously as I did. “We’re at a disadvantage,” the former muttered darkly. “We don’t have a Dark asha on hand to compel people or scry into their minds. I’ll talk to Zoya and Shadi and see what they can come up with.”

  For now, there was little else to do but welcome the Yadoshans, who had just arrived at Ankyo. A score of regiments surrounded the city, camping out on the plains, their banners of crimson and navy flapping in the wind, while their representatives rode into the city to greet Empress Alyx. Yadoshans had never been formal, and from the roll of their shoulders and raised weapons, it was clear they were eager for a fight.

  “First Minister Stefan says we are yours to command, pretty queen,” one of the men spoke, which was about as ceremonious as they managed. “I look forward to fighting the… Well, I’m not entirely sure if we’ll be fighting Drychta or the Faceless or both, but we’ll give either one as good as we got!”

  The empress shot him a wan smile. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, Lord Knox. The enemy, for now, shall be the Drychta. King Kance has already left for the Hollow Mountains, and if we hurry, we can catch him before he knocks down the range.”

  Lord Knox whistled. “We had a tussle or two with the Drychta a few months back at Mithra’s Wall, and King Kance was in the thick of it there as well. Doesn’t look like he’d be at home in a fight, that king, but the lad does a good enough job in battle despite his green blood. If I may be frank, I’m relieved. We’ve heard stories about what little Tea has been up to these days, and we’re not keen on facing her in battle—not just because she’s a friend, but also because we’ve seen the damage she can do on her lonesome.”

  “I hope that day doesn’t come, Lord Knox. Lady Tea’s motivations are…unclear at the moment.”

  The man glanced around. “Not sure it could come any clearer, given what she did to your city, Your Majesty.”

  “We will survive, and we will rebuild. We always do. The casualties have been minimal fortunately. Let us return to the palace. My advisers would like to speak with you and your men.”

  The tall, muscular leader fell into step with me as we entered the palace. “Princess Inessa over there tells me you’re Tea’s chronicler,” he remarked. “She must have lots of interesting yarns to tell.”

  “Did you meet her in Yadosha, milord?”

  The man’s face split into a wide grin. “Of course. Her and Lord Kalen and the other pretty asha and the Heartforger. Ain’t every day someone hauls in a nanghait for my men to mess with. Best time of my life. Most frightening time too. But you aren’t living if you’ve never faced danger that would give you a good, long piss in the pants, am I right?”

  11

  I was not prepared for the nearly citywide ovation we received upon entering Thanh. At certain points, I feared we would be mobbed by the well-meaning folk, despite the soldiers First Minister Stefan had stationed to prevent the more enthusiastic of the citizens from drawing too close.

  The Thanh roads were a series of wide streets that preferred corners and sharp turns over straight lines. Large stone houses and two-floored shops lined the main avenues, all representing dizzying arrays of architecture that drew from every conceivable culture. There were Kion-style bungalows with high, ornamental Daanorian spires, palafittes common to Arhen-Kosho held u
p by Odalian columns, and wide, squat tenement houses notable in Drycht.

  The people were as complex as their engineering and as equally varied. Men hanging around outside taverns raised their mugs to us despite the noonday hour and called out cheerful greetings. Nobles bowed low, proper and urbane as an average Kion, but there were rowdier groups, almost all clad in armor, who broke into patriotic song as we passed. Thanh had never struck me as a military town, but many of the men—and even some of the women—were outfitted in various kinds of plate mail. I was no stranger to Yadoshans, but it is one thing to entertain a small group of garrulous, good-natured Yadoshans in Ankyo for a trade meeting, and another to be faced with a city full of them.

  “We’re a very affectionate group,” the duke informed us, a huge grin plastered on his portly face as we finished the trek, arriving at the House of Lords, a squat building built from limestone, with high towers stationed in all four corners. “You’re the first Dark asha to grace Thanh in more than ten years. Most of the asha in Yadosha were recalled last week by your asha association. Our people have been hard-pressed to find their entertainment elsewhere, and in these city-states, that usually means front seats to a tavern brawl.”

  That got my attention. “Were you told the reasons for the asha departure, your Lordship?”

  “Ah, so you don’t know either? The elder we communicated with—Lady Anastacia—said that a serious political matter had arisen in Kion, one that needed the attention of all the asha-ka mistresses. Important enough that asha with no official political standings in other kingdoms were required to report back. She even wanted the married asha and those under the patronage of our more influential nobles. Naturally, the ministers turned down the request. A contract is a contract, and I’m sure we sent back enough asha to satisfy their quota.”