by Rin Chupeco
“I’ve bespelled it with a young soldier’s determination and an old woman’s stubbornness. Wear this on your person at all times, and anyone else seeking to control your mind will find it an uphill battle.” He waved a finger. “Whether they eventually succeed though, depends entirely on your own resolve. Take this as a show of goodwill on my part, I suppose.”
“Then let me return the favor,” I said, closing my hand over the small stone. “What memory would you like me to provide?”
The Heartforger was surprised but pleased, though he tried to hide it. “Any memory?”
“Whatever you need.” I didn’t think I had any experiences too traumatic for me to relive over again, and I assumed the memory he would try to take was when I first raised Fox from the dead.
“I usually wait until the second meeting to provide a list of my demands. But if you insist, there is one thing I’ve been hoping to finish tonight…”
He reached over and traced something in the center of my forehead.
I felt an odd sensation, a sudden influx of memories bubbling to the surface, like the Heartforger was rifling through the pages of my mind.
“Ah, this one should do nicely.” There was no pain, but I felt my thoughts being gently prodded toward—
“Fire and calm, these two; water and flash. Much like my sons. This is Prince Kance.”
The boy smiled at me, and I felt my cheeks prickle with heat. “It is my honor to meet you, asha.” He bowed.
“That will do.” His hand left my forehead, but with it trailed a little sliver of mist that wrapped around his finger. He guided it into his heartsglass, and we watched it disappear into its bright depths. I was still red. I knew Kance and Kalen saw nothing, but that made no difference to my embarrassment.
The Heartforger rose with a grunt, joints creaking. His apprentice abandoned his study of Fox and rushed over to assist his master.
“I’ve got a long night’s work ahead of me still,” the old man said. “Never a moment’s rest. You have my gratitude in indulging an old man’s curiosity, Lady Tea, you and your familiar. Good night, Your Highness, Lord Kalen.”
“That was the first time I’ve ever watched him at work,” Prince Kance said once the two had left. “Though I must confess I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Did you, Kalen?”
Kalen only shrugged.
It was difficult to be in the same room with the boy who your first memory of had just been handed over to be measured and processed like medicine.
Fox’s face was devoid of expression when he looked at Prince Kance, but I could practically feel his grin. So it came as a surprise when he merely said, “I don’t believe I was able to thank either of you for taking care of Tea that night at the cha-khana.”
Prince Kance smiled at him. “That won’t be necessary. If anything, Kalen and I should be in your debt. To be a Dark asha is no easy life, and I know the sacrifices you all make to keep our kingdoms safe. I hope we didn’t inconvenience you too much tonight? The Heartforger can be persistent.”
“Oh, no—I had nothing to do today. I mean, I had my classes and practice but not at night, which I’m sure Your Highness knows—not that I had no plans tonight, just that there are no classes for asha at night—”
Kalen cleared his throat. “I am going to step out for some air for a bit.”
“I’ll join you,” Fox said, to my relief.
“That’s Kalen’s way of saying he’s off to patrol the area,” Prince Kance said after they had left. “He takes his duties as my bodyguard very seriously.”
“I know the feeling.” With my brother gone, my anxiety diminished, if only a little. “Fox has always been protective of me.”
“How has he been adjusting?”
“Surprisingly well. Nothing really bothers him for long. Even this.”
“Isn’t it difficult to be sharing each other’s thoughts all the time?”
“I can’t read his thoughts unless he’s under some extreme emotion, and the same holds true for me. It’s not as invasive as you might think. In many ways, he’s a comfort.”
I soon found myself telling the prince about my childhood in Knightscross, and he, in turn, told me a little about his own life. His mother had died when he was only five years old, and his father, while kind, was too engrossed with the kingdom’s affairs to have much time for him.
“That sounds lonely,” I sympathized.
“I can’t complain. I have good teachers and mentors. I know I can always count on friends and family like Kalen. I can’t blame my father either. He wasn’t expecting to be king.”
I remembered. “Your father had an older brother, didn’t he?”
“Yes, King Vanor. My father never liked the way my uncle treated Lady Mykaela, and he always felt guilty about that. He spent a month searching the palace from top to bottom, hunting for her heartsglass. It was his idea for me to check up on you during my stay in Ankyo, though I’m glad he did.” He made a face. “We don’t have long. We only have this room for an hour, and Empress Alyx gets worried if Kalen and I are gone for too long. Has Mistress Parmina given you leave to attend parties at the cha-khana?”
I shook my head, not trusting my words.
He smiled. “I hope we can continue to meet like this once you’ve obtained her permission—not just because my father requested it.”
I felt like my smile could stand independent from my face. “I would like that very much. How long do you intend to stay in Kion?”
“For the next year, possibly longer. Kion is our closest ally among the kingdoms, and Father thinks it would be educational for me here.” He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Thank you, Lady Tea. After days spent overseeing my father’s affairs in Kion, it feels nice to relax and talk about other matters.”
“How did the first date go?” Fox asked after we had left the Snow Pyre. “Has he asked for your hand in marriage yet, or should we have stayed longer?”
I was grateful no one else was around to see a young asha apprentice chasing her brother down the lane leading back to the Valerian, their laughter riding on the wind.
The girl showed me the polished stone she wore on another thin chain around her neck, bright and smooth. It was easy enough to overlook when set beside her heartsglass.
“I wear the seeking stone all the time,” she said. “It has saved my life on countless occasions. I will always be grateful to the Heartforger, for it was backbreaking work to change a seeking stone into one of protection. It was a precious gem worth more than my own weight in gold, yet he gave it to me without asking for compensation. Do not let the stories about him intimidate you. He is a hard man to understand because he is a man capable of strong feelings. He hides them underneath heavy layers of indifference and distrust and hopes no one else notices. He is a wise man but often sad—though I have found that both frequently go hand in hand.”
16
Rahim beamed at us as we entered—Fox and I and also Likh. “Ah, my little uchenik and her brother! What will it be for you today? Does Parminchka require a new frock? Or do you allow me to design you an original hua for the day you make your debut? It is never too late to start too early.”
I had been to Rahim’s establishment many times since that first meeting, but it was easy to feel intimidated by the man’s affectionate demeanor and his booming voice. “Actually, I was wondering if you could design something for my friend here.”
“Your brother? Yes, we can make more than hua here. The dark and somber colors he wears will not do. He shall have the most appealing of red, scarlet like a woman’s lips, so that the ladies they are encouraged to use theirs on—”
“It isn’t for Fox,” I interrupted while my brother grinned. “It’s for Likh.”
“Likh? Ah, you wish to splurge? I will give you the bargains, because Chesh has been so kind to me. The best sh
erminas for you, the—”
“We don’t want a shermina. We’d like a hua for him.”
Rahim looked at us. He stroked his massive beard. “A hua? But why so?”
“We—we were hoping you could make something for Likh for the darashi oyun, when the gates open for those who would like to dance before the asha’s performance.”
“Well,” the man said. “Well, well, well.”
He took a step back and gestured at us to follow him into a smaller room, away from the bustle of activity taking place outside. Nervously, we sat down on a few chairs he pulled out for us. Rahim perched on a tall stool and stared at Likh.
“You do understand,” he said slowly, his Tresean accent less pronounced, “that some asha consider this an affront, a joke made in poor taste. The association of elders surely will.”
“And that’s why I was hoping you could make it,” I said eagerly. “Everyone knows you would never make a hua just for the jest of it. Then perhaps they will take him seriously when he dances.”
“The elders would censure lesser-known ateliers for this. Even with my influence, they may still do so. What makes you think I am willing to take such chances?”
“Because you have taken such risks before,” Likh said softly. “Chesh told me your story, of when you first arrived at Kion. You were a refugee fleeing from a place that punished people like us. When you opened your own workshop, people looked at you and laughed and said a bear could not possibly know how to hold a needle, much less sew. You ignored them because you knew you could do better than the clothes they made, the designs they created. You set up shop along the smelting district because that was the only place you could afford. But you were brilliant. Everything you made was a work of art, and people noticed. You made a living by not compromising who you are. I…I want to do the same—to prove to people that I can and to prove to myself that I can.”
Rahim sighed, a rumbling sound.
“That is a pretty speech. But there is a difference between a bear who wants to sew clothes like an atelier and a boy who wishes to dance like a girl, and the difference is there are no traditions that says a bear cannot sew.”
Likh’s shoulder slumped.
“I’m the last person in this room to know anything about asha tradition,” Fox said quietly, “but I believe there’s nothing that explicitly prevents Likh from dancing either. Tea and I read all the books we could find about asha conduct.”
Rahim thought it over. “Likh, dance.”
The boy’s head shot up. “What?”
“I want you to dance. Show me what I am staking my reputation for.” The man gestured at a spot at the center of the room. “Go on. Here is as good a place to perform as any. Do you know the songs the asha play?”
“I know about a hundred in their repertoire.”
“Really?” I hadn’t known that either.
Rahim grinned. “Your dedication is admirable, but so must your dancing be. Begin whenever you feel ready.”
I recognized the dance Likh started with—a complicated piece called “Good-bye,” about a woman from Drycht to be executed for dishonoring her family when she fled with a disreputable lover. It was a popular song used as propaganda against that kingdom in the olden days, though few people nowadays think of it as anything more than a tragic ballad. I was stunned. There was a heaviness to Likh’s body, a weariness that translated beautifully into his movements, and I could almost imagine him as a woman who was putting everything she had into one final dance, a heartbreaking eulogy.
“That was excellent, Likh,” Fox said when he’d finished. My brother wore an expression close to amazement on his face.
The image of that solemn, weeping woman disappeared, and Likh was back, fidgeting and nervous. “Was that OK? I’m told it’s difficult to do well—”
“It is a dance that must be as successful at conveying emotion as it is with performing its intricate steps,” Rahim said. “And a dance where the latter means nothing if you cannot accomplish the former. It looks like I have no choice but to design a hua for you.”
He closed the distance between them and clapped both hands on Likh’s shoulders. The boy staggered. “Agata and Patel must know, of course, but the others will gossip and the word will spread, and so everyone else must be kept in the dark. I shall say it is a fine hua commissioned by a connoisseur from Yadosha, and no one shall be any wiser. We will arrange the bustline like this so that you will give the impression of breasts, and then alter the hips so that you can sway and fill out like a woman. Green and lavender! Your skin is light enough for winter but not too coarse for summer fashion. And ravens! A motif of ravens to suggest your hair. Agata! Patel! Come and measure!”
“Don’t worry,” I called out to Likh as Rahim dragged the poor boy out of the room. “This is part of being an asha too!”
• • •
During the days that Likh was being subjected to Rahim’s enthusiasm for hua, I was not without my own tribulations. My dance lessons proceeded as normal, but Lady Hami had decreed that I could now rise up one tier in my combat training. Now, no longer content to have me jump through obstacles and swing my way through bars, she made me swim underwater with weights attached to my feet, got me to claw my way through swamp underneath streams of Fire other asha shot out in my direction, and had me face off against several opponents at once. Other apprentices simply parted the waters so they could walk or hardened the earth underneath them to avoid the mud or used Wind as a shield to prevent their opponents from attacking. I had no such weapons at my disposal.
Mistress Parmina had also decided that it was time for me to start attending parties with Lady Shadi, and this I looked forward to.
The night I was due to make my first appearance, Rahim and Chesh arrived at the Valerian to help me prepare. Rahim told me rather gleefully that he had just made his first hua for Likh and was pleased with how things were progressing. “Guaranteed, no one will look at him and see a boy,” he promised me.
“I’m still not sure how the elders are going to react,” Chesh fretted. Likh had felt compelled to inform his guardian about his plans, and she harbored some understandable misgivings.
“Our little uchenik’s brother is correct when he says it is not against the rules for Likh to dance,” Rahim pointed out. “I do not think your charge will last very long with Deathseeker training. This may be his best hope.”
“The worst we can do is fail,” Fox pointed out. “They’d still force Likh to join the Deathseekers. I don’t think they’re going to sanction either of you, and I don’t really care what they decide to do with me—the most they can do is send me back to the grave, which isn’t much of a threat. It’s Tea I’m worried about.”
“I don’t think they’re going to punish me,” I said slowly. “They’ll stick chores on me, humiliate me a little—but I don’t think they’ll expel me. They think I’m too important for that.”
Chesh glanced at me and smiled faintly. “I also think you’re smarter than they give you credit for.”
The hua was of a modest design—tiny butterflies climbed up its sides, white against a cornflower-blue background interspersed with small lilies. Rahim showed me how to tuck the waist wrap around me to prevent any folds and ungainly creases in the robe. A small elegance spell made from some of the vials prepared for me by the Dawnseed apothecary had been woven in, but try as I might, I could not detect their magic—only a faint sense of them but nothing else.
“Of course,” Rahim snorted when I asked, “they would not be worth their price if anyone could!”
Chesh showed me the kinds of hairpins and combs that went well with the dress. Tonight I wore a tortoiseshell comb adorned with tiny diamonds that would help inspire gaiety and a hairpin with white flutters and an aquamarine gem set on top, which has a soothing spell. As always, I wore my crescent pin. Then she began to paint my face, showing me how
to use my color sticks and pigments to properly contour my face.
“I think you’re ready,” she said, stepping back.
I glanced at the mirror and my mouth fell open. I looked amazing!
“We didn’t come here to help you prepare and expect different results, child,” Chesh laughed. “You’d best get going. We wouldn’t want you to be late!”
They waved at Lady Shadi, Fox, and I as we left the house. This time, other apprentices hurrying past stopped to bow to me as well as to Lady Shadi, and I felt very grown-up in my new outfit. Unlike that night at the Falling Leaf, my hua fit me perfectly.
The cha-khana was looking better than when I saw it last. Parts of the garden that had caved in during the undead rodents’ rampage had been fully restored, and some of the rooms gleamed, shiny in their repaired newness. I still could not quite get over the guilt that I felt for destroying it in the first place, but Mistress Peg was most forgiving. In fact, she was ecstatic.
“We’re booked solid until winter,” she informed me, nearly giddy in her joy. She pressed something into my hands—it was a small envelope customarily used for giving tips. I had never heard of a tearoom mistress handing one out to an asha before a party began. I started to protest.
“Mistress Peg, surely I can’t—”
“Don’t think about it,” she assured me, still all smiles. “Here’s one for you too, Lady Shadi, for all the help you have given Lady Tea here. Now hurry up. Your guests are waiting for you.”
I didn’t know what to do, but Lady Shadi tucked the envelope inside her waist wrap and bowed, and so I did the same.“Good luck,” Fox said to us before resuming his post outside the tearoom.
Mistress Peg led me to the exact same room where Zoya had made me entertain Prince Kance and his friends all those months ago, and I was sure she could hear how hard my heart was pounding.
When she slid the door back, I was almost disappointed. Prince Kance was not inside the room. But Kalen was. With him were other boys his age, also clad in the black he was so fond of wearing. To my chagrin, Zoya was also present, and two of her friends—Yonca and Brijette, I remembered.