by Rin Chupeco
“Stay,” the girl said gently. Lu Ren stopped. He turned in compliance to her wishes, his face a mask of anguish.
“In three days’ time, Daanoris will be overrun by daeva, and Santiang will be among the first to fall. They will scorch your lands and destroy all that they see. They will enter the capital of Tuadan, and nothing will remain of your houses nor of the palaces of your emperor and his royal court.”
The merchant swayed on his feet, wringing his hands. “But why?” he cried.
“Because it is necessary,” the girl told him sadly. “Because the man who sits on your throne is a cruel emperor and an obstacle in my path. And that is why you are to return to Santiang immediately, to warn your people of what is to come. You will order them to flee the cities and to take refuge in the mountains. Save as many as you are able. Spread the word to other towns, and encourage them to do the same. In five days, Daanoris will fall—do not let your people fall with it.”
The man recoiled, but even in the face of such tragedy, his avarice struggled for dominion. “And my reward, Mistress?” he asked. “The most precious of rewards that you promised?”
“You leave with your life intact, good merchant,” the girl replied, and the taurvi raised its head and meowed at the terrified Daanori. “Surely that is the most precious of rewards? Now, go.”
And so the merchant turned with a cry of despair and began his trek back toward Santiang, leaving nothing but his footprints behind.
25
The association of asha had thirty members, half of whom were mistresses of asha-ka. A quarter of them were chosen delegates among owners of the cha-khana, and the rest represented the numerous florists, ateliers, apothecaries, and hairdressers within the vicinity of the Willows. I couldn’t see much of a distinction then; all were gray-haired women of an age between seventy and eighty-five, with elegant, flowing robes wrapped about their wizened persons, and their hair sorted into appropriate buns. I don’t know whether they were selected because of their similarities or if their similarities became apparent after they were chosen, but I could only tell them apart from the hua they wore. All looked hostile.
I stood before them, hoping I could somehow melt through the floors, away from their accusing gazes. Did they look on every asha aspirant with this kind of bitterness, I wondered, or did they reserve this kind of special hate for asha like me, who caused so much trouble even before they made their debut?
I was nearly fifteen. It had only been a week since the darashi oyun, and Mistress Parmina was true to her word. Aside from a temporary suspension of all my lessons, I was forbidden to attend parties for another month. I had to turn down both Councilor Ludvig’s and Prince Kance’s offers, though Lady Shadi told me that the prince inquired frequently about me at the cha-khana.
I had to clean the outhouses. I was made to kneel on the street before the elders’ association and remain there, unmoving, from noon until four in the afternoon. These were still not the worst sanctions the mistress could have meted out to me, and I suspected Lady Mykaela had convinced her to moderate my punishments.
“You are here because Mistress Parmina has petitioned you for the rank of asha,” said one.
Should I speak up, or should I simply nod? Lady Mykaela had said nothing about this. I inclined my head, not trusting my voice at that moment.
“This is an unusual matter. Apprentices require at least another year of mastery. What skills do you believe you possess that makes you believe you deserve exemption?”
I was sure now that they were going through the motions, falling back on questions they gave other novices since time immemorial, because the whole city by now knew what skills I possessed, not all of them necessarily welcomed.
“I am well versed in all my current lessons, miladies. I can dance songs at a grade above my level, and I hold a third tier in combat. I am familiar with the culture of all Eight Kingdoms, including those from the Yadosha city-states and from Drycht. I am fluent in the language of flowers. I can treat wounds and read heartsglass. I have attended over fifty parties under the watchful eyes of my sisters and have always strove to obey my elders.” That last part was a bit of a stretch, but none of the mistresses batted an eye. I don’t think anyone had blinked since I began speaking.
“Very well. You may begin the first part of your test. The piece we have chosen for you is “Waves at the Shore.” You may begin.”
I bowed and positioned my hands and feet accordingly. Somewhere behind the women’s seats, someone began to play, and I moved across the floor, letting the music seep into my skin, my mind blank as I focused on nothing but the song and my response to it.
I allowed all the worries and fear that had plagued me in the days leading up to this moment to melt away, to block Fox’s constant presence in my mind the way I was taught to, until little remained but me and the music.
I danced, and for those several minutes, I was nothing more than a crest in the sea, a swell among the tides that crashed into the rocky seashores of my mind, leaving pain as I rolled and ebbed against the sand, aimless against the vastness of ocean and at peace.
The dancing hall was quiet when I finished and bowed again. The mistresses held themselves too rigidly for me to guess at what went on in their heads.
“Sing ‘A Village Feast,’” one of them instructed.
I was on less confident territory here, despite it being one of the simpler songs in the repertoire, but I sang nonetheless. Instructor Teti had given me enough training to learn how to modulate my voice, to pitch it in the same range as the instruments to maintain the harmony, but unlike my dancing, I knew there was nothing special about it. Once that was over, I bowed again, awaiting the next set of instructions.
“Name me the eight types of surgical procedures available to us.”
“Incision, bloodletting, stitching, probing, cutting, scraping, puncturing…” For a moment, I panicked, the last answer not immediately coming to mind. Breathe, I told myself, relying on the meditation Instructor Kaa had taught me and the techniques I had come to rely on to calm myself. “…and excision.”
“Name me five uses of enderroot.”
“To treat gout, to congeal blood on open wounds, to relieve the pain from bonesmelt disease, to alleviate symptoms of stone cough, and as a remedy during the initial stages of progressive blindness.”
“Give me the names of five nobles whose lineages descended from the Great Heroes.”
“Prince Kance of Odalia, Duke Maurion of Tresea, Prince Yesta of Daanoris, Baron Selan of Istera, and Second Minister Kisling of the Yadosha city-states.”
“You mention the prince of Odalia but not his father, who is the king. Why is that so?”
I cleared my throat, hoping my cheeks had not reddened as I replied, “Ah…given the testimony of King Randrall the Quiet, whose corpse was recovered due to…unexpected circumstances, it was shown that King Parthan, King Telemaine’s own father, was not King Randrall’s descendant at all but a descendant of Queen Liset and Commander Bosven of the royal army. He therefore cannot claim descent from Koshti, one of the Five Great Heroes. However, Prince Kance is a descendant of Koshti from his mother’s family, whose ancestor married into the Latvell family.”
“Ah.” The woman shuffled a few papers in her hand. “I see. History that has only recently come to light…very well. Twenty feet above your head, there hangs a silver hoop five inches in diameter, attached to a piece of string. Use any one of the runes at your disposal to bring it down.”
I paused, stunned. No one had told me about this part of the test. Had I been any of the other asha, it could have been easily accomplished—a Fire rune to burn through the string, a strong enough gust of Wind to snap at the line…
Hastily, I drew in the Dark and cast my mind below us, at the ground. I found nothing. No taste of bone and decay, no hint of death. I threw my mind lower, burrowing through.
Impossib
le. There was always a dead mouse or insect, some decomposing animal no matter how little or unimportant, that I could reach out to with my thoughts and find contact.
Faces watched me, knowing. Their heartsglass gleamed silver in the gloom.
They had planned for this. I could not wield any other rune but the Dark, and so they had made painstakingly sure that it would not be easy for me. I could tunnel through the ground for years until my ears bleed and still find nothing. And that left me with only one last recourse.
“I can’t do it.” The words echoed throughout the hall, the finality of them ringing in my ears. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do it.”
“Is that the answer you would like to submit?” The old woman’s voice sounded mocking.
I swallowed. “Yes. I can’t.”
“The test has concluded. Return to the next room to await our decision.”
Fox, Mistress Parmina, and Lady Mykaela still waited for me, and they were now joined by Polaire and Althy, which only made things worse.
Polaire jumped up when she saw me enter. “Well?” she demanded eagerly. “How was it? Did you pass? Did you allow those old geezers to intimidate you?”
“Polaire,” Althy remonstrated, “let her speak.”
“I failed.” I could not help but feel miserable. I felt like I had let everyone down.
“What do you mean ‘failed’? Did they tell you?”
“No, but I’m almost sure I did.”
“Let’s see what the association has to say,” Lady Mykaela said optimistically. “I’m certain you’re wrong.”
I didn’t want to get her hopes up but didn’t know what else to say. I only nodded, my head bowed. It seemed like a waste of time to wait for my results, but my melancholy didn’t put a damper on the others’ spirits.
It felt like ages before one of the women entered the room. I kept my eyes on the floor, not wanting to see the expressions on everyone’s faces when she revealed the truth.
“Thank you for waiting, Mistress Parmina. I am pleased to report that Tea has passed her test at the highest level. She is now free to make her debut at your choosing. Congratulations again.”
And then I saw nothing but skin and arms because Polaire had dragged me to my feet and enveloped me in a jubilant hug. “You passed—and at the first level! Ha! And you so ridiculously modest, thinking you’d failed—”
“I am so proud of you, Tea!” Lady Mykaela laughed, and Polaire scooped her up, adding her to the embrace. “This is very good news for us!”
“We will stage your debut in a few days,” Mistress Parmina announced. “I see no reason to delay. The Valerian will need cleaning. Rahim and Chesh must be notified—”
“But—but I don’t understand.” I was confused. “I failed the last test. How could I pass at the highest level?”
Lady Mykaela gently disentangled us from a still-enthusiastic Polaire, who made up for the lapse by latching onto Althy instead. “What test was this?”
“The rune test. They asked me to take down a silver hoop they’d hung from the ceiling, and I refused.”
“Why?”
“There was nothing for me to raise. Not even a speck of ant.”
“That was deliberate, Tea. The asha do a ritual cleaning of the halls before any asha test, and they are very thorough. I encountered the very same thing during my exams.”
“But how did you pass?”
“I did the same thing you did—I refused.”
I stared at her, more puzzled than ever.
“Think about it, Tea. You have no need to display your proficiency with the Dark. If they were not convinced when you raised half the town’s dead during your stay at the Falling Leaf, they would have believed when you chased away the azi. As you were unable to use the Raising rune, what other options did you have?”
“I could have used Compulsion,” I said, “to force one of the women to take it down for me. I didn’t think they would have liked it.”
“Yes. And now do you understand the reason you passed?”
She left me to mull that over as Fox approached. “Are you happy?” Now that I was no longer shielded from him, I felt his thoughts mirroring my own.
“I think I am,” I said, ignoring the little Darkness in the corner of my head. I was getting used to compartmentalizing my mind whenever someone new was added to my roster of familiars—Fox had his own space, and then Chief, and they both, to some extent, were dimly aware of the other through the link I shared, and each accommodated for the other’s presence. But something else lurked at the farthest reaches of my head, something that neither of them knew of. Being told that I was now an asha had unlocked something within it, like a sleeping giant roused from an ages-long slumber and was now ready to begin the hunt.
Don’t worry. It’s not important.
With some effort, I pushed it away for another time.
“Then that’s all I ask.” And my brother hugged me in turn, smiling. “Congratulations, Sis.”
I smiled back. It was the only thing I could do. For the first time since raising him, it occurred to me that while Fox was privy to some of my thoughts, he wasn’t privy to them all.
• • •
Likh’s testing had not been as smooth. Once more we confronted the asha association, but where I had faced them alone, Likh stood with me, Polaire, and Lady Mykaela.
“It has never been done before,” one of the old women said firmly. “It breaks with our tradition, and tradition must be honored above everything else.”
“It is an archaic tradition,” I argued, more vehement and less apprehensive than I had been at my own test. “I don’t see why men who can sing and dance and draw runes should be prevented from becoming asha if they meet all other requirements.”
“It is an insult to our profession!” another old lady thundered. “It’s nearly as ridiculous as a woman joining the Deathseekers!”
“Well, now, that’s a very good idea, Mistress,” Polaire drawled. “This is Kion, miladies, not Drycht. We are at an age where men and women stand together on equal footing, unlike our barbarian brothers to the south. Why shouldn’t a woman petition to join the Deathseekers any more than a man can petition to join asha?”
“Do you not understand the complications that arise from such thinking?” a particularly weaselly old woman at the end of the table snapped. “It is highly unnatural for men and women to fraternize in this manner!”
“Unless you wish to purchase the hua they make, of course.” I couldn’t help myself. I was familiar enough with many of Rahim’s work to know that what the crone wore was an Arrakan design.
“Perhaps,” Lady Mykaela said gently, “Likh would like to make his case.”
Swallowing hard, Likh stepped forward. Unlike us, he wore his plain gray robes.
“When I was three years old, I knew I was not like other boys.” His voice carried, soft and gentle, across the hall. “I did not enjoy rough play or making games with wooden soldiers and other such toys. I loved dolls and dresses. I saw my first darashi oyun during my sixth summer and liked to pretend I was an asha myself. I am standing before you today to tell you that I have never been so sure of anything else in my life.
“I am also here to plead for my life.” His voice shook. “I will not survive Deathseeker training. I know it. The only role I can hope to fulfill for the black brothers is as a fresh corpse on the plains. I will be nothing more than another victim, be it of daeva, of Faceless, or of brigands. I can do so much more here in the Willows, and you will have no reason to regret it. I ask you to give me three months to prove my worth, and you can see at its end whether I should stay or go. It is only three months of your life, but it will decide all of mine.”
It was not until the next day that the association announced their verdict.
“It is not for us to determine whether the supp
licant can withstand the rigors of Deathseeker training or whether he is more suitable to the way of the asha. We are here to uphold the laws and customs of the Willows to ensure that they are followed to the letter. With this in mind, we reject the supplicant’s appeal, but we are willing to leave this up again for reassessment after his Heartsrune day.”
• • •
The funerals were held two days later. Three asha had perished in the battle against the azi, and the whole community turned up to pay their respects. I stood along the street and watched as they drove the coffins past, which were draped in heavy black ermine. Lady Seleni of the Hawkweed. Lady Brijette of the Imperial. Lady Deanna of the Larkspur. I wondered about Polaire; she had lost an asha-ka sister in Hawkweed, possibly a friend. Those with silver heartsglass can’t be raised from the dead, Lady Mykaela said. It felt wrong somehow, for Dark asha to grant others a second chance at life, but not to her asha-sisters and Deathseeker brothers. I remembered Brijette from the Falling Leaf. Though my time with her had not been pleasant, I felt sorry to see her gone. Zoya gave nothing away; her head held high, she marched beside the coffin that held her friend, and I watched them until they turned a corner and were gone from view.
The mood within the Willows was somber, but Mistress Parmina had decided not to delay my debut. The preparations were even worse than the one for Lady Shadi’s, and my being in the center of the maelstrom only made it worse. A constant stream of people traipsed in and out of the Valerian, most entering my room and catching me in differing stages of undress, because I was once again being measured and dressed for new hua. “Can’t they announce themselves before coming in?” I wailed, clutching a discarded robe against my chest. A group of men had just left after a lengthy consultation about the banquet to take place later that evening, heedless of the fact that I was clad only in undergarments when they had first entered.
“I’m a boy too,” Likh said, grinning at me. Although Chesh served as my official hairdresser, she knew of our close friendship and had appointed him to be her assistant every time the Valerian required her services.