The Bone Witch

by Rin Chupeco

  “If it isn’t the Valerian girls!” one of the boys hooted, rising to his feet and extending both hands to us with a large grin. He was tall and muscular, built for a fight. “And it’s the Dark asha too! Come join us, pretty ladies. We don’t bite!”

  That set off a chain of laughter among the rest, and for an instant, I thought about fleeing. I knew the necessary etiquette when it came to dealing with people, but as Mistress Parmina had pointed out already, the theory paled when it came to practice. To my relief, Lady Shadi took charge.

  “Don’t tease her, Ostry,” she scolded him. “This is her first party, and we should be making her feel at home. Come sit between me and Kalen, Tea, and I’ll introduce you to the boys. You’ve already met the duke, haven’t you?”

  “The duke?”

  Kalen shrugged, still glaring at me; he had not displayed such hostility before. He addressed Lady Shadi instead and did not look back in my direction. “I never told her. We’re not in the immediate line for the crown, so we tend to be glossed over in your history lessons.”

  “Kalen is the son of a duke,” Ostry said. “The Duke of Holsrath to be more specific—King Telemaine’s own brother.” He scratched at his unruly red hair. “Unfortunately, the rest of us come from humbler origins. I am Ostry of Mireth. My father runs a pig farm there, so perhaps you can refer to me as the Duke of Hog.”

  “Ignore their idiocy,” Lady Shadi said, but she was smiling. “They leave Kion tomorrow, so they’re trying their best to get drunk before then.”

  “Idiocy? Lady Shadi, you slay me.” One of the boys grabbed at his heartsglass in mock pain.

  “You’re all leaving tomorrow?”

  “Except Kalen, that lucky bastard. He’s manning the fort here while we go chase after daeva,” Ostry said, gulping down his drink. “And who better to hunt it down than a roomful of Deathseekers? But I’d much rather be here, drinking on Empress Alyx’s tab and being entertained by pretty ladies.”

  “Not the best attitude to have before leaving to fight daeva,” Kalen said with stiff disapproval.

  “Oh, lighten up, Your Lordship. We’ve got one last night. Where’s the attendant? We need some of those alut they like so much in Yadosha. This wine is not doing much to get me drunk quickly enough.”

  “Aren’t you one of Tea’s friends?” another man asked Zoya. “You were together when that accident here happened, right?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “‘I suppose so’? That’s an odd answer. Are you or aren’t you?”

  “Little Tea here has friends who think shielding her from all sorts of harm is the best way to teach her how to be an asha. I don’t believe in such nonsense. If she wants to tread the waters of the Willows, then the best way to teach is to throw her into the river. There is no better way to learn to swim than when you are struggling to keep your head above water.”

  “That’s a harsh way of putting things, Lady Zoya.”

  “Isn’t being a Deathseeker the same way? And yet you do not mind.”

  “I suppose it pains me to see beautiful women placed in such difficult situations.”

  “We are not paper flowers that easily rend and tear in the wind, Alsron.”

  “You must try to be nicer to Tea, Zoya,” Lady Shadi chided.

  “That’s none of your concern, Shadi.” Zoya flashed me an artificial smile. “Some wine, Lord Alsron?”

  Lord Alsron did want some wine, as did most of the others. Yonca pulled back the door to summon a passing attendant.

  “Would you like me to refill your bowl, Your Highness?” I asked Kalen.

  “No, thank you.” Kalen only looked irritated.

  “Now that we have the celebrated asha apprentice in our midst,” Ostry continued, and I felt embarrassed when all eyes turned to me again. “We must know—what did happen at the Falling Leaf that night? We deserve a firsthand account, don’t you think?”

  “Zoya was there,” Kalen said. “She could probably tell it better.”

  “But she has! Now we want the story from the girl herself!” A chorus of agreement met Ostry’s words. “Well, Lady Tea?”

  I decided not to delay what was inevitable. I cleared my throat. “I don’t understand it myself. Everything happened so quickly that it’s hard to know where to begin.”

  “How did you come to be at the Falling Leaf in the first place?” someone interrupted. “Lady Zoya says that you’d snuck into their party without anyone knowing.”

  Instructor Kaa taught me several breathing techniques to control my temper. I employed one of them because the alternative was to rise to my feet and attempt to strangle Zoya. “I was an idiot. I was barely a novice, and I didn’t know the rules. I worked at the Valerian as a servant far longer than most apprentices had, and I found the rules constricting. I’m sure you know Mistress Parmina. She is a hard taskmaster.”

  “We’ve had the misfortune,” Ostry said, and the room roared.

  “She’s not as bad as you think,” I said once the laughter died down. “She likes a clean house though and was always sending me out on errands. One night, I was determined to see how asha worked in the evenings—I wanted to see if all my hard work would be worth being an asha. So I did sneak out. I still feel guilty, thinking about it now.”

  “Don’t be,” a boy they called Mavren said. “We’ve all done that—playing truant and sneaking out into the city when the master of arms isn’t looking.”

  “Lady Zoya, Lady Yonca, and Lady Brijette here were at that party—it was in this very room, in fact! Sir Kalen should remember; he was here with Prince Kance and the Princess of Arhen-Kosho.” I smiled at Zoya. “Lady Zoya was kind enough to let me join them. There were too many guests about, and she knew I would be caught if I snuck back out on my own. They lent me a hua and made me up to look like an asha.”

  I saw the asha trade looks with her friends, but no one else noticed.

  “But then something happened—”

  “It was a seeking stone, wasn’t it?” Alsron broke in. “We’d spent hours searching for it in all the rubble. It was Lady Mykaela who found it underneath the floorboards.”

  “I felt sick,” I continued. “Dizzy. It was shortly after Lady Zoya danced for us. I remember someone asking me what was wrong, but I couldn’t respond. And then something in my head burst”—I made a gesture—“and before I knew it, there were dead rats streaming in through one of the walls and a skeleton climbing out of a hole in the ground! Prince Kance yanked me on top of one of the tables, and I must have passed out shortly after—”

  “And what a sight to see that was,” Brijette countered. “The Prince of Odalia, holding you up by the legs like that! Why, we could see your shift—”

  “Impossible,” Lady Shadi said firmly. “Our waist wraps hold our robes securely in place. Was Tea’s waist wrap dislodged in any way?”

  “Well, er—yes,” the asha floundered. “I suppose so—”

  “I was there, as was pointed out,” Kalen said, “and excepting the fact that she was unconscious, there was nothing wrong with the girl’s clothes.”

  Zoya gave her friend a warning look.

  “I must have been mistaken,” Brijette withdrew. “It was so hard to keep track of all that was going on.”

  “But what happened next?” Ostry demanded.

  “Prince Kance lifted Tea onto the table,” Zoya said, “and we got to work trying to stave off as many of those rodents as we could. The skeleton was easier—it was Prince Kance’s own ancestor, imagine that!—but it was a difficult job; we were worried we might accidentally burn down the tearoom if we drew in Fire, and the ground was beginning to cave in. And little miss asha-in-training here slept through it all with a smile on her face!”

  “I think you asha exaggerate many parts of the story,” Alsron said, already drunker than the rest. “The length of leg you can displa
y while wearing the standard hua, for instance. I am more interested in investigating that matter further. What if Lady Brijette was right and it is possible to see one’s shift despite the waist wrap?”

  Lady Shadi rose demurely to her feet. She tugged lightly at her waist wrap, gathering the cloth from underneath that kept it securely in place, and then lifted her dress to display a pretty ankle. “See how difficult it is just to show you men that much?”

  Every male eye in the room was immediately drawn to her. Brijette and Yonca eyed her with thinly disguised scorn, but for a few beats, Zoya’s heartsglass pulsed a deep scarlet.

  This was a new side to Lady Shadi that I had never seen before. There was a reason, I realized, why she was popular—and very clever. My story was quickly forgotten.

  “Let’s make that a challenge!” Ostry proposed, taking another swig of his drink. “How about we play a round of worm-frog-snake and test Lady Shadi’s claims?”

  A round of approval met his words, and I watched, a little bemused, as Ostry started off against the asha, the other boys yelling out, “Worm! Frog! Snake!” in the background like they were eight-year-olds in a schoolyard. Worm beat frog, and soon Ostry was shucking off his shirt amid catcalls. They tried again, but Lady Shadi was either skilled or very lucky, and soon Ostry had to take off his belt. “I surrender,” he said. “I respect Lady Shadi’s skill too much to be losing my pants over it!”

  Fortunately, the wine ran out, and since none of the attendants were in sight, I elected, being the most junior of the asha present, to run out and get more. Relieved, I slipped out of the room, pausing at the gardens to gather myself. The Falling Leaf had made some improvements; two more statues were added to that of Anahita’s, this time of Dancing Wind and another Great Hero, Ashi the Swift. I paused for a moment to stare up at the three, taking in the crisp night air to calm myself.

  There was a movement to my left, and I saw a dark figure emerge from the gardens. It was clad in black, and its face was obscured by a heavy mask.

  We stared at each other. I swore I could feel a presence settle in the corner of my mind that wasn’t Fox—odd feelings of caution and expectation as it tested for a way in, and a telltale trail of annoyance at finding the entrance blocked. The Heartforger’s stone felt hot against my chest.

  Without looking away, I bent down and picked up a small garden shovel that had been carefully set behind a large quarry stone.

  It fled, and I followed without thinking.

  The figure barreled through the carefully trimmed bushes and out the cha-khana’s gates. It moved quickly, but I kept pace behind it, thankful for once for Lady Hami and her leg weights.

  “Tea!” I heard my brother call out from somewhere behind me, heard him chasing after me, but I did not stop.

  I should go back, I thought.

  But another part of me, irritated and annoyed by all the restrictions being placed on my daily life, shrugged off the suggestion and ran faster. I raced into a dark alley, and I felt a surge of exultation upon realizing it was a dead end, with nothing there to hide behind. The figure had stopped, standing motionless before the blank wall. A small lantern hung overhead, and I saw it had no shadow.

  “Who are you?” I shouted.

  It turned to face me. With deliberate slowness, it reached up and pulled the veil off its head.

  What stared back at me was a skeleton, bleached and polished so that no trace of flesh remained. The gaping mouth grinned malice at me; from within the depths of those empty eye sockets, something glinted. The skeleton gave me no time to recover but lunged at me, moving faster in the fifty yards that separated us than it had when I chased it.

  My training took over, and I dove to the ground as its bony fingers swiped past, missing me by a few inches. Still on my knees, I swung with the shovel and felt it connect. The skeleton’s legs gave out underneath it, knocking one knee joint loose as it tried to maintain its balance. It lifted its hand again, and I saw its fingers against the moonlight, the bones on each end honed and sharpened like knives.

  And then Fox’s sword cleaved the skeleton’s hand, cutting it off at the wrist. The fingers hit the ground with a disturbing rattle, but Fox did not stop, angling his sword so that his next stroke took its head cleanly off its shoulders. The rest of the body disintegrated before his blade could complete its arc, the skeleton’s ashes sending small clouds of dust around us.

  “What in a daeva’s teeth is that?” Fox demanded, staring at the skull’s remains.

  “This is what’s been following us!” I scrambled to my feet, kicking at the discarded veil and black robes and feeling sick. “I knew it wasn’t human, but I wasn’t expecting this!”

  There was no one else in the alley. Fox insisted on checking, but the street we stood on was deserted.

  “We’ll have to tell Lady Mykaela when she returns,” he said grimly.

  “Only after she returns,” I agreed quickly, “and no one else.” I could only imagine the restrictions Mistress Parmina would place on me if she knew.

  “This is more serious than I thought, Tea.”

  “I know.” There was someone else in Ankyo who could channel the Dark. And whoever it was, was after me.

  • • •

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I apologized as the door slid open. Faint traces of laughter wafting out told me that the party was still in full progress, that I had not been missed. Fox had already slipped away, still intent on searching the neighborhood for the skeleton’s summoner.

  Kalen stepped out through the door and took the heavy tray of drinks out of my hands.

  “Thank you, milord. Was there anything else you wanted me to—”

  “Stay away from Kance, asha.”

  The air felt colder, a strong chilly wind sweeping through the gardens unannounced.

  “I—I don’t know what you—”

  “Stay away from him, Tea. And if you do not, then I will make sure you do.” He stepped back inside, and the door slid shut.

  I remained there a little longer, until Mistress Peg found me. It wouldn’t do to keep my guests waiting, she scolded, and I would have all the time to rest when the party had ended and my visitors had gone home. I nodded dumbly, barely listening. Kalen disliked me—because I was a danger to the prince or because he disliked bone witches? And after tonight, I couldn’t even say he was wrong.

  I slipped in quietly and resumed my seat. For the rest of the evening, Kalen said nothing, though his silver heartsglass pulsed red.

  “It pains me to see these put to use in this way,” she said, studying the bezoars. “We could cure the world with these, heal almost every known ailment. But I have no choice. The dozens we could save today pales in comparison to the thousands and millions we could save tomorrow.”

  But I could not imagine how raising an army of daeva could save so many people; I feared the opposite held true and said as much.

  “Imagine a world filled with daeva like my friend over there.” The taurvi basked happily in the sun, tongue lolling over the black sand. “Imagine the lives potentially lost by their rampages, by the people’s fear.”

  She lifted up a ruby-red bezoar from the akvan she had slain only days before. “Now imagine that these daeva can be tamed. Imagine how, under a benevolent ruler, they could right everything wrong in all the kingdoms. We could use the daeva to rid ourselves of the Faceless once and for all. We could fill the world with runeberries, see that no one would go hungry or thirsty ever again. We could punish the tyrants of Drychta for your grief. Where would you like to begin?”

  “I am more concerned,” I said, “of knowing where it will end.”

  She laughed, a mirthless sound. “Where it always ends, Bard. With me.”

  17

  Lady Mykaela returned a week later, and I was shocked by how much she had aged in the interim. Her hair had lost some of its luster,
and dark circles lurked underneath her eyes. She had arrived sometime the night before, but I found her already at the breakfast table. She gave me a wan smile as I entered, but as she lifted the bowl to her lips, I saw her hand shake, a little of the tea sloshing over the brim.

  “What happened to you?” I rushed to her side. She looked so thin and frail that I feared she might topple over at the first sign of wind.

  “It’s good to see you again, Tea.” Her laughter reassured me; it was still every bit as warm. “You’re looking very well. I’m afraid I’ve been feeling a little under the weather and so can’t say the same about me.”

  “A little under the weather, my ungainly behind,” said someone by the door. “Would a ten-year war be a minor inconvenience for you, Mykaela? Would a devastating hurricane be an errant breeze?”

  Two asha stood at the entrance, slipping out of their wooden sandals. The bright morning light shone behind them, so that at first I only saw their outlines silhouetted against the rising sun and thought for a moment that they were my sisters Rose and Lilac come to visit. But one was a plump woman with bright-red hair half-hidden behind a gauzy veil and large spectacles. Her maroon-colored hua had one of the most unusual motifs I had ever seen—light green cantaloupes were painted at the bottom of her robes, interspersed with holly sprigs and small white butterflies. The other was almost a head taller, with dark hair cut short above her neck—a style rare among asha, most of whom preferred to wear their hair long—and pale-gray eyes. Her hua was a bright yellow, in a simple buttercup pattern.

  “The nanghait took more out of you than we wanted, but it is not good of you to trivialize your health in this manner,” the tall brunette continued, her voice slightly accented.

  “I am fine, Polaire.”

  “Not from where I stand.” The brunette turned her attention to me. “You must be the asha apprentice people are so terrified of these days. Aren’t you going to invite us in?”