The Shadowglass

by Rin Chupeco

  “But why would she turn her back on this city? Last I heard, she was friends with your girl, Fox—beggin’ your pardon, Her Highness—and loyal to your empress. She left most of Ankyo alone, but she laid waste to the bulk of the Willows, if my eyes don’t deceive me.”

  “There was a reason.” Lord Fox stared into his goblet. “She didn’t betray Kion. Not in the way one thinks of betrayal. Some days, it almost feels like Kion turned her back on Tea first.” Like mine had, his silver heartsglass seemed to glitter. “Did she say anything about Kion while she was with you?”

  Lord Knox paused. “Not explicitly, no. But she said some things about wanting to leave and be someone else. To travel the lands without the need for a name. Where she could carve out her own peace, her words were. I remember, because she’d looked so sad and vulnerable. With all due respect, Lord Fox, it was easy to admire her, even knowing the damage she could do, even knowing how Kalen would beat my arse. Maybe the danger was a part of her attraction.”

  “We all admired her, Knox.” Lord Besserly raised his glass. “Let’s raise our glasses to the Dark asha. As strong and mighty as we are, able warriors one and all—may nothing we do piss her off.”

  “Hear, hear,” the rest of the table chorused, and that made Lord Fox crack a smile.

  12

  There were minimal injuries from the daeva hunt, no thanks to the Yadoshans or their leader. The man the nanghait had first attacked would live with a broken leg—and despite the injury, still attended the party later that night where we were made honored guests, ignoring my pleas for rest.

  “It wouldn’t be much of a celebration if the people we were celebrating weren’t present,” the minister pointed out. “Tomorrow is as good a day to sleep as any. But tonight, we drink!”

  And that was why I sat at the center of a very long table, staring down at a roasted hog with a caramelized apple in its mouth. Yadoshan parties were as grand and as outlandish as their hunts. While their gatherings in Kion were tame out of respect for the Willows’ policies and general dislike of loud noises, the Thanh celebration was a citywide affair, spilling out of the council house and finding lodgings in the endless number of taverns and inns surrounding it. While the more influential nobles and ministers dominated the great hall we stayed at, the locals conducted their own festivities with lesser frills and more beer.

  “This is ridiculous,” I complained once the First Minister was out of earshot. “There’s no point to all this. They deliberately went out of their way to get themselves hurt or worse, and now they’re celebrating the fact that they survived?”

  “Sometimes people do things because they want to, and not because they make sense.” Khalad took a small sip of his ale and gingerly placed it back on the table. “It’s not like you’ve never met Yadoshans.”

  I snorted. “I’ve never been responsible for their lives before.”

  Kalen chuckled, mellower than I’d expected. “One of the few rules for the hunt requires participants to take sole responsibility for their actions should they die underfoot. It’s the only way they can claim a hero’s burial. You may have to endure this every several years whenever the nanghait wakes, but I don’t think the Yadoshans would oppose our staying here as normal citizens. Their policy is to never get themselves involved in southern kingdom politics—staying neutral is good for trade. Hunting the nanghait might actually put them in your debt.”

  “That’s not exactly the best way to start a life incognito.” Kalen was serious about leaving Kion for good, but I still wasn’t sure what my own thoughts were on that the subject. I couldn’t let Mykaela shoulder all the duties of a Dark asha alone.

  I looked around at the throngs of men and women talking and laughing and noisily chugging down dark butter ale like tonight was their last night on earth. “Maybe Yadosha isn’t the best place to settle. Maybe we should live in the frozen tundra with the Gorvekai instead.”

  “But you’re seriously considering my proposal?”

  “Would you expect me to let other daeva roam free? Even if Mykaela could no longer put them down herself?”

  “Mykaela has her heartsglass back. And she can train someone else in your stead.”

  “Then it’ll never end, will it? Endless cycles of Dark asha dying too early, teaching new apprentices the craft, so they can die too early too.”

  Kalen sighed. “I don’t want you to die early either. But Mykaela has never once complained about her fate. You can’t decide how she lives her life.”

  “You can’t do the same for me either, Kalen. I would have been all right staying at Kion.”

  Kalen stared at me, his expression turning angry. “You want them to kill you? You’re giving up, just like that?”

  “What else can I do? Being a bone witch is harder to relinquish than a title, Kalen! I can’t be selfish!”

  “And you’re implying I am?” Kalen pushed his chair back. “This isn’t a game!”

  “You can’t tell me not to speak for Mykkie and then speak for me!” I snapped before realizing this was brewing into a fight neither of us wanted.

  Kalen came to the same conclusion; he slumped and sighed. “We’ll have all the time in the world to decide where to go after tonight. But it’s best we stay in Thanh and wait for favorable winds. Can we at least agree to that?”

  I nodded meekly. “Yes. I can.”

  “I’m just—” Kalen ran a hand over his dark hair. His voice softened. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  “Kalen!” Lord Besserly bellowed, appearing out of nowhere to clap him on the back. “The ministers would like to talk to you about your cousin and Odalia.”

  “I am no longer King Kance’s representative, Your Excellency.”

  “Ah, is Kance as prudish about nobles being with asha as his blowhard of a father? I wish Telemaine a speedy recovery, by the way, but I always figured Kance would be a lot more lenient.”

  “Our distance is for an entirely different matter, your lordship.”

  “A pity. There are talks of him sending a considerable portion of his army our way, and while I trust Odalia and Yadosha remain in good standing, we’ve got every reason to be more than a little uncomfortable about his decision.”

  “What? Kance is sending troops here? When?”

  “We received a missive an hour ago. While you might not be representing Odalia in any official capacity, we thought you or Lord Khalad might be able to shed some light on his perplexing behavior.”

  Kalen glanced back at me.

  “While we have only the highest respect for the Lady Tea,” the duke said apologetically, “she speaks for the Willows, and this is a matter that doesn’t concern them—yet. I know Lady Tea is as knowledgeable about the politics of the situation, but there are protocols to follow.”

  “We’re to talk about it here? In the middle of all…this?”

  “We never discuss politics unless we’re at least half-drunk, Lord Kalen. That’s how we maintain our sanity.”

  “Go with them,” I said gently. “And take Khalad too. I don’t know what Kance is doing, but you both know him better than anyone else. I’ll go have a talk with Likh…and we can speak again later.”

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised as they headed for Khalad.

  I took up the empty chair beside Likh once they had left. “Is he still mad?” I asked.

  Likh nodded miserably, though not without anger coloring his heartsglass. Both he and the Heartforger had been silent all throughout the meal; Likh was studiously looking down at his food and doing his hardest to not look at Khalad, to the latter’s obvious displeasure. Kalen and I aren’t the only ones arguing, I thought with a sigh.

  The runic wards had been rewoven around Likh, and they felt stronger than before. “What else was I supposed to do?” the boy asha asked. “The nanghait could have killed him!”

 
“And he was scared that it could have killed you,” I reminded him. “How are you feeling?”

  “Not too bad for someone who’s been blighted.” Likh lifted a tankard to his lips. He was never this blunt, and I quickly learned why. All asha under seventeen summers were prohibited intoxicants—though like most establishments, the regulation was waived with important clients as long as the asha was under the supervision of an older mentor. The Yadoshan council house was a far cry from a conservative asha-ka, and as the only senior asha available, I wasn’t sure I could do much more at this point. “I was fine. I knew what I was doing. Forging hearts is his expertise, but I know my own strengths.”

  I laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. I’m just realizing how I must have looked and acted from Polaire’s or Althy’s point of view at your age. You do realize that he was frightened for you.”

  “Yeah. But that was my own decision, right? He couldn’t have known Kalen would have fended off the daeva. I couldn’t have known what would happen if I hadn’t intervened. He keeps… He thinks that because he sees every emotion in my heartsglass, he gets to decide what is best for me!”

  “He doesn’t see everything in your heartsglass,” I said quietly. “Khalad’s a very clever man and an exceptional heartforger. But sometimes his own feelings cloud his judgment and prevent him from seeing into heartsglass. He doesn’t know that you like him.”

  He blushed. “And… Does he…?”

  “I don’t know. He’s better at hiding his emotions than I am.”

  “Well, if it isn’t the Lady Tea! Fancy meeting you here!”

  I recognized the voice, but my groans were muffled as Aden, a Yadoshan trader and frequent customer of the Valerian, bounded over and enveloped me in a hug that would have given Rahim a run for his money. Balfour and Knox were directly behind him, laughing boisterously and already inebriated. “Last time I saw you was at the Dawnbreak tearoom last month. What brings you to our part of the world?”

  “I’m considering permanent relocation, Sir Aden,” I said around a mouthful of arm, adopting Kalen’s proposal for the purpose of this meeting.

  “Ha! There are so few asha here nowadays—sent back to Ankyo, more’s the pity—and you two are a welcome sight to see! Come sit with us for a little while, you and your beautiful lady friend! You are an asha too, aren’t you, milady?”

  “My name is Likh,” Likh said, rising from his chair. “And thank you, kind sir. I’m an asha who’s never been to Yadosha before and would love to know more about what you do.”

  “The more the merrier!” Knox proclaimed.

  “Likh—”

  “I’m only going to talk to them, Tea. Isn’t that part of what we do?” The boy asha drained his mug and stood. “Where were we, men?”

  Groaning inwardly, I followed them to their table. I’d known the guys long enough to trust them not to take advantage, and I’d be on hand. But they didn’t know Likh, and I didn’t know drunk Likh, and I couldn’t find a way to extricate ourselves from the situation without causing a scene.

  Deciding to allow Likh some leeway, I accepted a watery-looking but sweet beverage that didn’t taste like hard beer at all. “It’s like mother’s milk,” Balfour assured us.

  The innocent-seeming drink, I learned much later, was renowned for its smoothness. It was the lightest of the drinks served at that hall, that was certain, but potent enough for someone who didn’t always imbibe, the kick creeping up on one unawares until it was far too late.

  The men started with a toast in my honor, and then to Likh’s. By then, I was still sober enough to make my own toast. “May our children one day inherit a world where they can explore the lands without the need for a name,” I intoned, “and free to carve out their own peace.”

  The men seemed to like that. From there, we moved on to toasting the day’s nanghait hunt, future nanghait hunts, and it was only when we were toasting nanghait hunts twenty years hence and I spilled more beer than I drank that I knew I was in trouble.

  Likh handled his drinks better than I did. He flirted with the men, knew the right words to say, and was full of compliments. His training in Kion had paid off—he was better at flattery than I was, possibly on the same par as Shadi, who excelled at it.

  It was easy to keep drinking. With every refilled bowl, it took less effort to forget what I’d left behind in Kion—Daisy, Fox, the elder asha, all of it.

  “My great-great-great-grandfather helped build this council house,” Lord Aden said fondly, patting the wall like he was stroking a pet. “See these faint markings over here? You can barely see them now. They’re Gorvekan. They helped us build it, said these were protection symbols. They don’t usually put them up in the places they help build, mind—they’re part of some rituals they’re committed to, and they don’t let outsiders see their symbols too often—but my many-great-grandpa did the impossible and got ’em drunk, so they got a bit careless. Friendly people, helped us fight against the nanghait back when there weren’t Dark asha around to contain them. Did you know they got more runebinders than even Arhen-Kosho if you take population size into account? Not something they tell you in the history books.”

  I stared hard at the design he’d indicated. It looked familiar, but my mind was thoroughly greased by the alcohol and its significance kept sliding away from me. “It’s very pretty, Lord Aden.”

  “Grew up in Thanh, I did. Knox and Balfour are Steerfall natives, and Besserly’s a Chittengrin, if you can believe it. Not as stuffed up as the rest of them over there, gods be good. Thanh’s a good place, but starved of asha.”

  Likh laughed. “And now it has two! Perhaps a celebration? Should we dance, Tea?” He tottered.

  “Not today, Likh. But we are quite open to more drinking.”

  Lord Aden guffawed. “Then more drinking it is!”

  Khalad found us deep in our cups, giggling over some inanities that I no longer recall. The Heartforger didn’t look pleased, barely paying attention to the men’s respectful bows—the ones who didn’t lose their balance, anyway. “Might I have a talk with Lady Likh?” he asked frostily.

  Likh peered up at him from through his long eyelashes, blinking owlishly. “I’m not sure I want to talk to you,” he said calmly, despite his lack of sobriety. “I much rather prefer the company of these men, if you please.”

  “Is this your girl, Lord Khalad?” Knox raised his hands. “We were only accompanying these lovely ladies, milord. We meant no harm—”

  “I want to talk to you now, Likh.” Khalad’s tone allowed no room for discussion. The Heartforger was rarely this angry, and it startled Likh back into some sobriety. He waved cheerfully at us before marching off so he and Khalad could talk in private.

  “I didn’t know Lord Khalad was interested in the Lady Likh,” Aden slurred. “They make a cute couple.”

  “Kalen and I make a cute couple too.” The words tumbled out without filter, and I remembered the surge of pride at finally being able to say so out loud, here in this place, where it was easier to spill secrets to a roomful of strangers than family and friends.

  The spurts of laughter didn’t sound like they were directed at me. “I’d noticed the particular closeness between you two but did not realize the happy occasion!” Knox proclaimed. “We must drink to your health and to Kalen’s! Have you been long together?”

  “Not too long, milord, but I intend it to last me my days!”

  “Once I traveled the Steerfall strays,” Aden started to sing, “with gold to last me my days, but soon found myself on old Thanh’s shore, all shacked up with a Yadoshan wh—”

  “Stop!” I raised my hand before he could finish. “Kalen and I are nothing of that sort! Our Kion songs speak of it better than your bawdy tunes!”

  “An asha performance!” Knox crowed. “Sing us some refrains, little miss, and let us be
the judge!”

  I was not known for my singing voice. Instructor Mina had been able to coax my frog-like warbles into a decent melody, but inebriation masked what little skill I possessed. Still, I endeavored.

  Kiss me with your generous mouth,

  That source of endless wine.

  Kiss me close when season’s drouth,

  Your lips a taste of mine.

  Through storm-led skies and sun-dried fires,

  Our love ’twas meant to be.

  When roses fade on funeral pyres

  I’ll carry your heart with me.

  The men applauded like I’d danced the darashi oyun. “Fighting words!” Balfour said. “Softer than what we’re accustomed to, but the heart speaks true! Which does raise the question: Who seduced whom?”

  The men found that hilarious, and I laughed along with them. “I’m not entirely certain, Lord Balfour. It was difficult to ascertain who made the first move; we were initially on hostile terms, you see. But that might have been part of his charm.”

  “But surely there was a turning point, milady?” Our table was no longer my only audience. About half of the hall was silent, riveted by my performance.

  I reflected, ignoring them all. “Perhaps it was when I accidentally used compulsion to save his life, Sir Balfour.”

  For some reason, a fresh chorus of laughter met my words. “Surely you didn’t need to compel him to be fond of you?” someone called out. “You have no need for trickeries when you look the way you do!”

  “Oh, but I did, and I apologized! It took him so long to forgive me. Even after I offered for him to do the same to me!”

  Balfour gaped at me. “You volunteered to relinquish control of your mind? That is quite the test of trust, milady.”

  That was true, wasn’t it? As angry as he had been with me, I’d trusted him enough not to take advantage, even when he threatened to do just that. Even when I hadn’t done the same. I drained another bowl. “He didn’t like me, but I had confidence in him. That’s the kind of man Lord Kalen is.”