by Rin Chupeco
Khalad walked like he knew the way, pausing every now and then to get his bearings. “I can sense Master’s workshop,” he explained. “The memories and half-finished heartsglass there burn as bright as a beacon.”
The people of Santiang were noisier than their Kion counterparts. Tiny stalls crowded every conceivable corner, selling dried fish and pickled vegetables next to fishing rods and rat repellent. The people spoke with loud, raucous voices whether they were arguing, bargaining, or telling jokes.
Children played on the street with paper balls and spinning tops, running to one side and giggling when heavy wagons came creaking past. Teashop owners and tavern proprietors—in many instances one and the same—wheeled out tables and chairs along sections of road to accommodate more customers. Everyone we passed wore plain robes of muted colors, and it was difficult to distinguish the successful merchant with a flourishing business from the average bricklayer.
Khalad led us through busy intersections where long lines of carts and horses were at a standstill, through roads so full of people and merchandise it was a wonder we could pass, and finally to smaller alleys that stank of beer and vomit, as the crowds thinned out and the voices faded, until we were standing before a small shack, not unlike the Heartforger’s hut in Kion.
Abandoned lots lined either side of it, and an open canal overflowing with rotten fish and garbage appeared to be the reason why.
“We traveled half a continent only to reach the same place again,” Likh said, staring.
I reached for Fox without thinking, then remembered he wasn’t with us. I sought him out with my mind instead and saw him at the courtyard with the princess. There was a marked improvement to Princess Inessa’s swordsmanship, and I wondered how many other sessions they had finished.
We found the forger’s hut, I whispered.
Another hut?
That was Likh’s reaction too.
Sounds promising. Be careful. Out of the corner of Fox’s eye, I spotted the emperor striding toward them, his face livid.
You better get out of my head, Tea. This isn’t going to be pretty.
But—
You’ve got more important things to do. Scram.
“Tea?” Likh waved a hand in front of my face. “Are you with us? Tea?”
“Um…I think the emperor isn’t happy about Fox and Inessa spending so much time together.”
“Why?”
“That’s a conversation for later.” Kalen took a step toward the shanty. Despite the city wards, I could feel waves upon waves of powerful energy, almost as strong as a seeking stone’s pull, emanating from the small, innocent-looking hovel. “Wait.” Khalad blocked his path. “Something’s wrong. Master’s not this careless. This is too much concentrated magic. It’s…overwhelming.”
“Stay back, Khalad.” Kalen approached the shack slowly, runes already half-formed. He pushed open the rotting wooden door with one foot. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in a while.”
The hair on the back of my neck prickled. “Guys?”
“The Heartforger isn’t here, that’s for sure,” Likh said, peeking in.
“Guys?” I had little knowledge of how sewage systems worked, but surely canals didn’t froth and bubble like that. Surely still water didn’t swirl that way…
“I’ll go first,” Khalad said. “He might have left something behind.”
“Let’s not be hasty,” Kalen said. “Your master isn’t in the habit of laying traps for unwanted visitors by any chance?”
“No, he’s not—”
“Guys!” I drew out my sword. The canal behind us went goop, and something rose from that putrid pool. The stink alone was nearly enough to make me faint, but what staggered out was the stuff of nightmares. It was an emaciated figure, a cross between flesh and skeleton. Tattered strips were all that was left of its clothing, and stringy black hair puffed out around its empty skull. It was small, easily a child or a young woman, but there was nothing human about its face.
More monstrosities crawled out of the canal, decomposing corpses of either human or animal remains or a revolting hybrid of both. The dogs no longer howled, but their teeth were sharp and yellow in their cadaverous mouths. They sprang forward faster than their human counterparts.
I drew Compulsion and was once more confronted by a barrier that was becoming familiar to me. “Someone’s controlling them!”
One of the skeletal hounds leaped for me. I stepped aside and cleaved its head off as it passed, slamming the hilt of my sword against its legs. “Break as many bones as you can!” I ordered. “They’ll keep moving if you don’t!”
Kalen whipped out an arm, sending a group shattering against a nearby wall. Khalad froze as more dogs approached, but Likh planted himself between the forger and the corpses, weaving his own runes. Lightning lanced through a nearby skeleton, blasting it into pieces.
“No lightning, Likh!” Kalen lifted a few of the cadavers with Wind and clenched his fist. The undead were immediately crushed into powder.
“Sorry,” Likh squeaked, shifting to Ice and Water, freezing bones and limbs. Despite their strength, it was clear that Likh and Kalen were having a harder time creating runes because of the unseen wards in place, and they were tiring quicker.
“Cover me, Kalen!” I scried and cast my mind around me, trying to find the mind responsible. Fox’s presence spread over my consciousness, calm and comforting as he wordlessly added his will to mine.
I punched through the haze of Compulsion around the monsters and found my target—and recoiled instinctively in disgust. The thoughts I found were human enough: they belonged to a man in a small, dark room, wizened and bald and dressed in expensive robes. But his thoughts reeked of such depravity and greed and insanity that my reflex was to push him away, desperate for cleaner thoughts to breathe in.
He sensed my intrusion and attacked. I saw rivers of blood, of people torn to bits by wild animals as he basked in their blood, of him ripping through flesh with his own bare hands. I fought not to retch; I would rather wade into the sewage canal than into the depths of that grotesque mind.
But Fox had stronger willpower, and he took over, pushing past the horrifying images and burrowing deeper into the man’s mind. While the man gloated over my horror, he had left me an opening to sever his link with the corpses.
The backlash was terrifying. I could not feel the pain that lanced through the man when his bond was broken, but I could sense its intensity. Screaming, the man reeled back, and our connection was gone.
Likh and Kalen stood, bewildered, while discarded bone and decaying carcasses surrounded them. Kalen was quick to catch me as I staggered.
“There was a man,” I gasped out. Kalen’s arms felt good around me, and my shivering abated. “His mind was…repulsive. I think it’s the same person controlling the savul.”
“Is he still here?”
“No. I don’t think so. Fox hurt him.”
“The poor people,” Likh mourned, crouching down beside one of the remains. Bones and bits of hair were all that was left of it, along with scraps of bright-red clothing. “Khalad, are you OK?”
The forger was breathing hard, but not from fright. His eyes were a bright gray behind his glasses, and he was staring at Likh like he was seeing the other boy for the first time.
“That was amazing!” Khalad clasped his hands around the boy’s. “I’ve never seen anyone spin runes like that before. It’s like a performance at the darashi oyun!”
“What did he look like, Tea?” Kalen asked as Likh quickly went from worried to mortified.
“Bald but with a beard past his waist. It took Fox and me to get past his defenses—I certainly couldn’t do it on my own.”
“Sounds like Usij.”
“So he really isn’t at the Haitsa mountains?” Khalad asked.
“Never underesti
mate a Faceless. Usij’s the oldest of the three—and the most degenerate.”
“But why plant a trap here?” Khalad dropped Likh’s hands. “Wait!” Likh cried, but the forger had already entered the shack. With an uncharacteristic curse, Likh tore in after him.
Are they all gone? Fox asked.
Yeah. Thank you, I owe you one.
Glad to be of use while I’m stuck in the palace.
Has the emperor killed you yet?
She was amazing, Tea. Fox’s tone was admiring, and blips of memories popped into my head: Inessa with her hands on her hips, confronting the Daanorian emperor with I shall train with my personal guard whenever I wish and I am your fiancée and not your chattel! and also You cannot select me for my independence only to turn around and complain that I am being too independent! The emperor was not a skilled debater, unused to anyone disagreeing with him to his face; Shifang could only shake his head and stomp petulantly away.
Good for her. I was worried.
So was I when I saw what crawled out of those sewers. Why is Kalen—
Tell me the rest later. I pushed his thoughts out. I was in a good place, and I was not going to give him time to ruin it. “Thank you,” I mumbled into Kalen’s chest, not quite ready to move away.
“That was a pretty good swing. Guess you’re not as bad at sword fighting as I thought.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I’m so terrible at this. Two soldiers at a time is my limit.”
“They said you were too small to be a bone witch, too delicate looking to be a fighter. That Odalians and Kions weren’t of the same caliber as their Daanorian women.” His grip on me tightened. “I wanted to confront them. I wanted to tell them they were idiots who didn’t understand they were watching the strongest girl I’d ever known, a girl who had faced off against demons and creatures beyond their imagining and won. That they didn’t deserve to be in the same room with her, much less in the same fight.
“But you winning was better than anything I could have said, better than anything they would have believed. I laughed because there was nothing else I could say that was better than what you had just proven.”
I listened to Kalen in stunned silence, thrilled by his words and the rasp of his voice. The voice in my head that had started as a dull murmur since leaving Odalia was shouting now, that damn little upstart no longer refusing to be ignored. You like him, it taunted, you’re in love with him, have been since Strypnyk. It’s why you couldn’t leave him behind, you fool. My own thoughts rose louder, terrified and elated but still partly, desperately in denial, going Oh no, oh no, oh no.
“Tea! Kalen!” Likh yelled from inside the small hut. “You’ve got to see this!”
“Let’s go,” Kalen said quietly, and I shoved all those confused jumbled thoughts out of my head, falling back on the meditation techniques I was taught to try to tame the raging of my heartsglass. Later. The mantra throbbed in my head. Later. Deal with it later.
The room was similar to the one in Kion, with the same disorganized mess of bottles, papers, and potions. It had the same shelves, the same kind of stones piled over each other as paperweights. Khalad was already crouched along one wall, fishing out several sheaves of letters and notes from a small brick-shaped hole while Kalen glared at a nearby cabinet.
“I found it!” Khalad said triumphantly, waving the papers in the air. “He wrote me a note!”
“How did you know it was there?” Likh asked.
“I know all of the Heartforger’s hiding places.”
“What does it say?”
“I haven’t opened it yet—there’s a lot of his more recent work here, including how to completely rewire heartsglass to actually improve people’s personalities—”
“Khalad!” Kalen barked. “What does the letter say?”
The forger hurriedly unfolded the paper. “‘To my foolish apprentice: If you are reading this, then you have disobeyed my orders to remain in Kion and attend to business there. You are a complete and utter disgrace to our profession, and sometimes, I wish I’d never taken you on as my apprentice.’”
Likh blinked. “That’s rather harsh.”
“Don’t worry about it. That’s just the way he talks when he’s irritated.” Khalad paused. “At least, I hope he doesn’t mean it. He’s always had a poor way with words—”
“Khalad!” Kalen roared.
“‘—but I suppose that’s beside the point now,’” he continued reading. “‘We have far greater problems on our hands, my boy. I have had my suspicions for close to a year now, and it irks me to know how often I am right, though I would wish otherwise. As you know, I have been investigating the sleeping sicknesses, convinced that this was no natural disorder. Princess Yansheo’s case was particularly curious, as the sickness requires the presence of a heartsglass when she should have had none. I had also received an unsigned message from Daanoris, warning me of magic being carried out in the palace, so I endeavored to see for myself. It was also a chance to investigate reports of the Duke of Holsrath having visited Daanoris.’”
“So he suspected it too,” Likh murmured.
“‘It was astonishing to discover that Holsrath had been at the Daanorian ball in the princess’s honor on the very same night I visited him in his cell, for he had been sickly as of late. Either the duke has a doppelgänger or he possesses skills not even I am aware of, which is highly unlikely given my abilities.’
“Modest too,” Kalen murmured.
“‘The danger is closer than I could have ever imagined. Usij has infiltrated Daanoris, Khalad. The iron fortress in Haitsa was a bluff, a means to convince the emperor that his enemy remains isolated in the mountains. The Faceless has entered Emperor Shifang’s palace just as Aenah has infiltrated the Odalian court.’
“‘My antidote replicates the urvan of the sleeping nobles—to restore their missing “souls,” so to speak. With his father’s permission, I tested it on Baron Cyran, with promising results. The young man is awake and without any ill effects, and the whole of Istera still has no inkling of their kinsman’s recovery, as King Rendorvik and Councilor Ludvig have been sworn to secrecy. Despite all my efforts, however, I believe the Faceless has learned of my cure.’
“‘There are agents after me, and I believe they are under the command of a man named Tansoong. I cannot remain here for much longer. I hope to return to the Daanorian palace and perform the same cure on Princess Yansheo. If you find this—or worse, if you find this letter after receiving word of my death in Daanoris—you must look for my friend, a man who has the least reason to cause Princess Yansheo harm. Find Baoyi. Tell him old Narel sends his regards and show him this letter. I have told him nothing about the princess’s sleeping sickness or of its magical symptoms to spare him from further worry, but he and I have known each other for a long time, and he will give you sanctuary.’”
“She says you are a bard,” Princess Inessa said softly.
“I wish to one day tell the world her story, Your Highness.” We stood by the entrance of the palace. The bone witch had not accompanied her brother nor the princess, much to the latter’s disappointment. Lord Fox said nothing, remaining solemn and quiet. Lord Kalen was already arranging horses for them.
“I would very much like to hear her story. I know so little of her—much less than I thought I did. She saved my life many times. I would do everything in my power to save hers if I could.” She looked up at the daeva standing before her; they gazed curiously back but made no approach. “But she is right. Her people will kill her, even without a trial. The Tea I knew would never have thought to invade a kingdom with the very daeva she had sworn to put down.” It sounded like a question.
“I am their chronicler, not their confidante.”
“She plays a lone hand. She no longer trusts us. I don’t even know if she trusts Fox anymore.” She looked back at the palace. “But Fox trust
s her now. I know, even without his saying so. Kalen is with her, and so is Khalad. If there is a voice of reason among us, it is Khalad, despite all he’s been through himself. He has every reason to hate Tea, but he does not. I can always trust Khalad.” Her voice broke, and her tears fell. “I have to. Otherwise, nothing makes sense anymore. It was good to see him. It was good to see Kalen.”
“Let’s go, Inessa,” Lord Fox said, already astride his horse.
The princess turned. “We gave in so easily. We could still convince her to come back with us.”
“When she reestablished our bond, I knew we could not convince her. There are blighted folk in Daanoris, Inessa. We must return to see if any are hiding among our own army before it’s too late.” Ignoring her gasp, he looked at me. “I don’t know what Tea plans. There is still much she refuses to share. I do not know if we can withdraw our forces or convince the empress, but I will not lose my sister again, no matter what she says.” For an instant, the grim lines around his mouth faded, and Lord Fox’s eyes lightened to a gray mist instead of starless midnight.
He nodded at the Deathseeker. “It’s good to see you again, Kalen. Protect her for me.”
“I always have.”
“Write her a good story, Bard. They say the best tales spare no mercy and spare no lies.” He paused. “But spare her anyway,” he added quietly and nudged his horse onto the road that would lead them out of Santiang.
A kind man, I thought as I watched the two ride away. Too kind. But of all I have seen of war, kindness makes the best of commanders and the finest of soldiers.
• • •
The bone witch knelt at the center of the throne room, studying her hands as we entered. Gently, the Deathseeker took her wrists, turning them over so he could see the damage her nails had wrought.