The Bone Witch

by Rin Chupeco

  “Terrified?”

  “Ignore Polaire,” the plumper girl chimed in. “Where Mykaela likes to understate, she is fond of exaggeration.”

  “But not by much.” Without waiting for my reply, Polaire entered and settled herself on the table beside Lady Mykaela. She placed a heavy bag containing large twigs beside her. “I bought a bag of forkroot at Maseli’s. That salope of a woman charged me an extra three shekels because it was fresh, handpicked just this morning. She wanted five, but I would have none of that. It should get your strength up, at least.”

  “When people gift others with fresh herbal tea, they grind it into powder first,” the other asha murmured, “not present it with the leaves still on their branches.”

  “I could never figure out how to prepare these things,” Polaire said. “If the recipe calls for half a pound of butter and a dash of nutmeg, I would probably forget and take half a pound of nutmeg and a dash of butter and kill somebody in the process. I simply take the ingredients and shove them on to someone more knowledgeable than me. It’s healthier that way. You’re good at potions, Althy. Why don’t you whip up some tea for Mykaela here—and for me too while you’re at it.”

  Althy shook her head sadly at her companion but picked up the bag and moved toward the scullery.

  “You’ll have to forgive me, I’m sure,” Polaire said to me. “We are old friends of Mykaela here. Tea is your name, isn’t it? How odd, since Althy has just repaired to the kitchen with your namesake. But I am not one to make fun of odd names, having one myself.”

  “Polaire is known to speak her mind,” Lady Mykaela said, smiling.

  “Oh, I’m the life of the party,” Polaire said. “They ask for me all the time. And if anyone gets too forward, Althy will take care of them. Althy doesn’t look it, but she can floor a man in the time it takes to raise an eyebrow. That’s why she’s Princess Inessa’s bodyguard. But we took time off to accompany our Mykaela here to Istera. Gloomy la épave of a place, is Istera. Have you been? Aren’t you going to give me some breakfast?”

  I slid a large platter of Lavash bread and some quince jam across the table. She fell on it with gusto.

  “Mmm, much better. Not much of a vacationing spot, Istera. Good only for its runeberry wine, elk antlers, and burly men—exactly in that order. Stranger’s Peak always has good vintage, but it’s a terrible place to live—snow piles eight feet tall and everyone up to their ears in mufflers and fur. If you thought Tresea was cold, wait till you’ve been to Istera. You will, eventually. Mykaela can’t take much of this any longer.”

  “Polaire,” Lady Mykaela warned her.

  “But it’s true, Mykkie. You can’t hide that from Tea forever. In two years, the nanghait will rise again, and if you’re in no shape to deal with it now, then think about how much of a headache it will be when you’re weaker.”

  “Weaker?” I echoed.

  “Mykaela’s health is fading,” Althy said, returning from the kitchen with a bowl of the freshly pounded forkroot and a kettle full of steaming water. She added the powder to the pot, then poured its contents into four bowls. Steam and a faint scent of spice rose up. “A lifetime spent raising daeva from their graves and sending them back would take a toll on anyone, and there aren’t enough Dark asha to go around anymore.”

  “Sakmeet died a few months ago, and Mykkie had to take up her duties as well,” Polaire said. “Nasty bit of goods, Sakmeet. Was fond of beans and thought she could pass wind and get away with it. Nastier bit of goods, the nanghait. Took more tricks to get it back into the ground than it used to. That’s your last daeva, Mykkie.”

  “I can still do it,” Lady Mykaela protested.

  “Not for as long as I breathe, you silly idiot. I thought for sure you were dead when you passed out like that, and if Althy wasn’t there, I wouldn’t have known how to bring you back.”

  “Passed out?”

  “See? Your apprentice agrees with me.” Polaire wagged a finger in Lady Mykaela’s direction. “Permanent bed rest from now until the end of the winter solstice. We can pick up the slack until this one makes her debut. It might take longer, but we’ve got something you don’t.” And she tapped at her heartsglass on its silver chain around her neck.

  I felt cold all over.

  “Don’t worry your head about it,” Polaire said, catching the expression on my face. “Only Mykkie is arrogant enough to go about raising daeva on her own. You’re both rare enough breeds that whole armies would accompany you if you asked nicely enough.” The asha scowled. “They never accompany me though.”

  “You’re not nice enough, Polaire,” Althy said mildly.

  “Shut up. What were we doing here again? Oh, yes—we’re here to watch Mykkie drink that horrible forkroot concoction that hideous salope at the apothecary overcharged me for, and then we’re going to force her to lie down for the rest of the month.”

  “I’m fine, Polaire.”

  “Your hand’s shaking, Mykkie, and there’re two of us against you. Three, because I’m recruiting your Tea too. One bowl, and then it’s up to bed, Mykkie.”

  It took nearly a half hour to convince Lady Mykaela to do so, and only after Polaire threatened to draw a rune on her. She and the other asha traded respectful bows with Mistress Parmina along the corridor, and the old woman allowed the women to drag Lady Mykaela to her room, the latter’s voice raised in counterpoint to the others’ determination. I remained in the dining hall and stared at my bowl until my drink grew cold.

  • • •

  “Have you given some thought to her sisters?” Polaire asked Mistress Parmina after Lady Mykaela was fast asleep. Both asha had stayed on for lunch. “Surely there are some names that come to mind.”

  “It’s too early,” Mistress Parmina demurred. “Tea has only begun her apprenticeship.”

  “It’s never too early to consider her sisters. Dark asha need more preparation than others, and Tea would need more training than Shadi… Where is she, by the way?”

  “She is practicing for the darashi oyun at the training hall.”

  “Elegant girl. Nabbed the main role again, didn’t she? I turned my ankles enough times during my dance lessons that Yasmin used to order me home ten minutes in.”

  “Are you volunteering, Polaire?” The old woman sounded interested.

  “Of course I am. Why else would I bring this up? I know all the people who matter, and I’ll teach her to liven up a party. And Althy can teach her the other boring stuff, turning lizards into powder or something.”

  “Medicine is a strictly vegetarian affair,” Althy murmured. “Daeva notwithstanding.”

  Polaire pursed her lips. “I know Mykkie would normally be the best candidate for a third sister, Auntie. But I’m worried she may not have the strength for it.”

  “Tea will need someone to teach her the Dark runes, Polaire.”

  “Mykaela can teach her when it becomes necessary but not in her current condition. Frankly, Auntie, I’m worried. The nanghait took a lot out of her. She can’t do much more of this. I don’t know about you, but I would give a good deal of what I own to raise Vanor from the dead and beat the life back out of him again.”

  “Why can’t you?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  “Why can’t I what?”

  “Why can’t you raise the king from the dead and demand Lady Mykaela’s heartsglass? I mean,” I added, somewhat flustered now that all three asha were giving me their full attention, “wouldn’t he know?”

  Polaire grinned. “She thinks. That shows promise. But she thinks without thinking her way through, so probably not. Don’t you think we’ve tried? We have had Dark asha summon the king until they were blue in the face, and still he refuses to speak. You cannot compel the dead to obey you when they have no intentions of doing so. Hate and anger can linger long after death; it is a powerful emotion that is harder to let g
o than life. The dead have a reputation, and it is not for their amiability. They feel no pain, which is a shame.”

  “Polaire caused quite a scandal back then,” Althy said. “It’s not every day that you get to see an asha punching royalty in the face, even if it’s dead royalty.”

  “It felt more satisfying to use my fists,” Polaire said. “And I was always better at my combat training than I was at my dance lessons. I was hoping you could find someone else to serve as Tea’s third sister, Auntie. I know that Mykkie would insist, and I want to head her off while I can. She needs to concentrate on healing. There will be enough time to teach Tea. Perhaps Shadi might consider it?”

  “Shadi is newly pledged, with a busy schedule. I would like to get her settled in before I start putting little sisters her way.” Mistress Parmina sat still for a few minutes. A small smile stole across her lips. “I do have a suitable candidate in mind,” she said. “Let me talk to a few other mistresses and see if she would happen to be available.”

  “There is a formal ceremony for such things,” Althy explained to me. “In older times, most asha used to have only one sister to guide them through their apprenticeship until they make their debut. There aren’t as many of us as there used to be, however, and there is not always time to attend to a novice, especially when you serve as a bodyguard or have a patron several kingdoms away. The three-sisters system was developed for this. Lady Mykaela, Lady Polaire, and I often mentored girls together in this way.”

  “But since Mykkie is indisposed, you will be one of those rare apprentices with four sisters sharing the responsibilities,” Polaire chimed in.

  “We shall schedule the ceremony in a week,” Mistress Parmina decided. “You are right, Polaire. We shouldn’t wait.”

  After the meal, I snuck away to look in on Lady Mykaela, who was still asleep. I watched her tired face, looked at her empty heartsglass. I looked down on my own and touched the glass with a finger. It rippled for a few moments, blue and yellow heartbeats that soon faded into its usual silver. In the excitement, I had forgotten to tell Lady Mykaela about the attack—but whenever I tried to, a voice in my head would rise up, insistent. It told me that Parmina would curtail my freedom and ban me from leaving the asha-ka ever again, and I knew in my heart that it spoke the truth. And so I held my tongue. Lady Mykaela had other more important concerns to worry about.

  • • •

  Lady Shadi made her debut a month later, throwing the Valerian into chaos. I was not allowed to take part in all the preparations, as I still had to prioritize my lessons and the rest of my training, but for three days before her official coming out, there was a constant flux of people rushing in and out of the asha-ka. Kana and Farhi spent a whole day cleaning the house from top to bottom. Rahim popped in and out at all hours of the day and brought three of his assistants whenever he visited, all armed to the teeth with piles of cloth and patterns. Chesh was also a regular guest during those days, her hands full of hairpins and combs, and sometimes she brought Likh with her, who watched the proceedings with wide eyes. “This is only the third asha-ka I’ve ever been to,” he admitted to me, envious. “It’s a different experience every time.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you’ve been punished much,” Lady Mykaela told me, laughing as we watched the preparations from the safety of her room. She sat up on her bed, still looking tired but noticeably perkier.

  “I’ve been wondering about that. Why wasn’t I? I must have caused so much damage—”

  “Don’t think about it,” she interrupted. “And don’t feel bad either. When you live in a district full of asha, most Ankyons learn to shrug things off. Reparations have been made, and if anything, you’ve actually bolstered ours among the people. Mother would only have punished you if she hadn’t gotten some substantial profit from what you’ve done. Why do you think she decided to speed up your novitiate?”

  Other visitors came and went. There were people from gift shops, some of the subordinate mistresses from the dance and musical schools, an elder asha representing the Willows association, people from dry goods stores and specialty food shops, and vendors from the Ankyon market.

  Anoush, the owner of the Dawnbreak, the tearoom that the Valerian did the most business with, also called on Mistress Parmina. I woke up one morning and walked into the dining hall where Polaire and Althy already sat only to trip over a trio of ducks that had been wandering around the table. One of them, taking offense, promptly bit me. My screams and Polaire’s laughter brought him and Lady Shadi running.

  “My apologies, Lady Tea,” Anoush apologized, scooping up the ducks. “Mistress Parmina wanted to have a look at the ingredients we will be using for the party.”

  “The party?”

  Lady Shadi smiled at me. “After my debut, the Valerian will be hosting a party at the Dawnbreak later that night, and close to three hundred guests will be invited. There wouldn’t be enough room here to accommodate everyone.”

  “But why would Mistress Parmina need to see what she’ll be eating?” I scooted as far away from the fowls as I could.

  “She likes to stick her nose in everything in the belief it makes things run more smoothly.” Polaire licked the panir off her fingers before taking another bite of bread. “Still, without the meddling on her part, I would not have been made privy to such marvelous entertainment so early in the morning.”

  “You have cheese on your cheek,” I told her sourly. Both asha had been staying at the guesthouse so they could check up on Lady Mykaela, who was more or less confined to her room and forbidden to take part.

  “Are you all right, dear?” Althy asked me. “I could put some flyjelly on the bite to ease the pain if you’d like.”

  “No thank you.” I stalked out of the room with my appetite gone, my hand over my rear end, and Polaire’s laughter still ringing in my ears.

  Even though I was a member of the Valerian household, apprentices were not allowed to attend a new asha’s debut, so I remained at home with Kana and Farhi while the others were at the Dawnbreak to celebrate. For once, Lady Mykaela was allowed to leave the house, though kept under close watch by Polaire and Althy. Farhi still refused to speak to me and tried to stay away when she could. I couldn’t really blame her. Kana was friendlier, though sometimes I caught her looking at me expectantly, like she was waiting for me to raise a dead bird or rat. Fox had business to attend to, though he wouldn’t say what it was. His limping had grown pronounced as of late, but he always grinned in response and told me not to worry too much.

  With the Valerian almost empty and Fox away, I felt lonely. I kept to my room and practiced the day’s lesson and then the other previous days’ lessons when I grew tired of repeating the same dance over and over again. The rest of the party wouldn’t return until early in the morning, and the only highlight of the night was when some of the Dawnbreak’s attendants arrived to give us some of the leftovers. The maids were delighted at the change of cuisine and ate as much as they could. I sat and stared at the head of a roasted duck, not feeling very hungry. It was probably the same duck that had bitten me, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like retribution at all.

  “They were the best sisters I could ever ask for.” The girl had put the fires out, thankfully. The stench remained but at a fraction of its vigor. Steam rose from the heavy pots, hissing. She began to boil the six remaining bezoars again at daybreak, each in separate cauldrons. Once they were steeped to her satisfaction, she poured a generous amount into their own vials, each liquid darker than the other. Even the daeva thought the smell was terrible. It took a whiff of one of the cauldrons and hurried away, sticking its snout into the sand and blowing noisily.

  “Polaire should have made a terrible asha. She was lazy and inept when it came to her lessons. She sang worse than I did, had no patience with the refined arts, and was too impatient for meditation. She had terrible coordination, which meant she was barely adequate
when it came to dancing. She was fond of insults, swore a lot, and had a high opinion of herself. But she was popular. She was the most popular asha in the Willow district for two years before she scaled back her schedule. She was also highly skilled with runes—one of the best.

  “Althy was different. She was every inch an asha—a whiz when it came to herbs and potions, skilled in both dancing and fighting. The problem was that she looked more like a jovial fisherman’s wife than anything else. She used that often to her advantage. I miss them both, though I don’t think they miss me.”

  “Are you going to make more potions out of these, milady?” I gestured at the pots.

  “Why else would I stand all this stink? But I’m not looking forward to drinking them.” She stoppered the bottles and placed them on a small wooden tray with the rest.

  “Milady, you talked of two of your sisters. Lady Mykaela was the third. Who was the fourth?”

  She smiled wryly. “Who else?”

  18

  “How long has he been dead?” Polaire wanted to know.

  “Who?” They called it the khahar-de, old Runic for the “sisters’ ceremony,” and mine was set to take place only a week after Lady Shadi had made her debut. The party at the Dawnbreak would be smaller, with only the residents of the Valerian and my would-be sisters in attendance. Chesh, Likh, and Rahim appeared at intervals, taking more measurements from me and discussing colors and motifs with Mistress Parmina and Lady Mykaela. Polaire and Althy still made their daily visits, with Althy happily moving on to the kitchens to cook, despite Lady Mykaela’s protests that she was a guest. Polaire simply lounged around and did as little as she could get away with.

  “That man who often waits outside the Valerian whenever Althy and I come to visit. I am told that he is your brother. No, that’s not right. I am told that he is your deceased brother.”

  “He’s my brother,” I corrected her, offended on his behalf.

  “Still looks dead to me, and I’ve seen a lot of corpses. He’s getting pale and raggedy around the edges. I’m assuming you haven’t blooded him yet.”