The Shadowglass

by Rin Chupeco

  “We could be very powerful together,” Druj said. “I can show you how to become the most powerful woman in the Willows—in all the kingdoms.”

  “Do the elder asha know your secret?” I demanded.

  “No. The oath of the oracle is a much different path from an asha. For as long as I continue to provide counsel, the elders take little interest in my affairs. They are not a group to question custom or tradition. They believe I have no power beyond the walls of my temple, yet many of my steadfast followers—like Altaecia—are eager to carry out my orders without question. The elders have no inkling of how much we have accomplished under their noses.”

  “You personally inflicted people with the Blight rune.”

  “An unfortunate necessity. A secret passed down from the first oracle, should another Dark asha prove too intractable. In the past, such insubordinations were taken care of quietly, without drawing attention. But with the time for shadowglass close at hand, I no longer see the need to hide.”

  They killed asha, I thought. They used Blight to kill Dark asha who knew the truth but spurned their offers. I redoubled my efforts, the azi lurching forward. It paid off, and two of the three heads found daeva flesh, biting into the akvan’s neck.

  The akvan wailed, but one of its tusks pierced the azi’s hide, preventing it from retreating. The azi struggled, but it was too strong. I pushed back, frantically searching for another way to disentangle it from the akvan. Without thinking, I drew my knife.

  And then, to my shock, I threw it in Kalen’s direction. He whirled, deflecting the unexpected attack with another Shield, but his distraction was costly. One of Altaecia’s cutting winds sliced at him, and he stumbled backward, gasping for breath as blood pooled from his stomach.

  “No!” I was immobile, compelled without my knowing it. I couldn’t move my hands, my feet. Druj spoke again, but this time she was the only voice inside my head.

  I have been doing this for a very long time, Tea, she murmured. I have been given instruction by teachers greater than Aenah or Usij. Did you think you could overcome me so easily?

  The azi slipped from my grasp and collapsed. The akvan continued to wrap itself around its brother, rumbling.

  Kalen was down on one knee, his hand pressed against his midsection. “Tea,” he rasped. Altaecia stood over him with one hand raised over his head, her face sorrowing. “Don’t listen to them.”

  There is still time. Pledge yourself to me, and I will promise to heal Kalen. I will promise to keep him safe from what follows.

  “Listen to her, Tea,” Altaecia said. “We can do more as allies than enemies, and I do not wish to kill any more friends today.”

  “Did you kill Sakmeet?” I demanded.

  “Does it matter?”

  “You killed her.” Althy’d betrayed us from the very start. “You were never a friend,” I spat.

  Althy, teaching me how to cook, her patience while she instructed me in the use of herbal remedies. Althy, bringing me to the marketplace in the mornings, her justified anger at those who would swindle others out of their hard-earned savings. Her compassion for the poor. Her desire to heal everyone she touched. That was the Altaecia I knew. This was not the Altaecia I wanted.

  Druj shrugged. “Sakmeet served her purpose. The destiny I told her proved true—her writings will change the world. They brought us here, together. We are a powerful team, Tea.

  “I have always been the same woman you knew. I do love you, and Kalen and the others. And that is why I do not wish to end it like this.” Altaecia’s face was streaked with tears. “Please, Tea.”

  “You drove me mad. You made me kill my own sister! You hurt so many people, including Mykkie and Polaire.”

  “As did you, Tea. In our quest to protect those we love, sometimes we end up hurting them worse. But we will solve all that. No more magic. No more hatred. Fox will live. I will make sure of it.”

  “Not at the price you’re asking.”

  “Then I have no choice, my love.” Althy bent over Kalen, and her fingers moved.

  A pure burst of Wind tore through the air, sharp as a sword’s blade and just as deadly. It was Althy’s turn to fall to her knees, gasping in shock as blood dripped from the wound across her chest.

  Likh was crying, her hands raised as another Wind rune formed against her palm. “We loved you, Althy,” she choked. “Why would you do this?”

  My sister asha laughed weakly. “You are far too young to understand, Likh.”

  “You tried to kill me. You blighted me, knowing what it would do. You are trying to kill us now. There is nothing else to understand.” Another sliver of Wind sliced at Altaecia’s knuckles, and the woman cried out in pain. Khalad grunted. He was still out on the ground, breathing hard like he’d been running. His face was strained from sweat and exhaustion, though I was certain he had not been hit. Heartshare, I realized. Like Kalen and I, like Mykaela and Polaire, they had…

  I struggled against Druj’s control, but she held fast with little effort, staring in fascination at the scene before her without bothering to intervene. Well now, she enthused, shall we see what unfolds here?

  Frantic, I grappled for a way out. Her possession of me was complete; there were no weak spots in her compulsion that I could find. But even at this most vulnerable moment, I could sense Kalen faintly, a remnant from our own heartsharing. I tried to move toward him. Our connection had saved us in the past. Surely…

  Tea.

  “You are powerful, Likh,” Althy complimented her. “Tea was right. You would have been one of our best asha.”

  “Please don’t make me do this,” Likh begged, as sharp Wind brushed against the older woman’s neck, ready to strike the killing blow.

  Altaecia closed her eyes. “If I have to sacrifice my life for you to understand, Likh, then I will gladly do so, with all my being.”

  Wind died down. Likh made a strange choking noise. Her hands fell against her own neck, her eyes wide. And then I saw the Blight rune surrounding her. No! I screamed, as Druj lifted her fingers, prepared for the last stroke.

  The Heartshare rune shone, bright and beautiful. Asleep or not, Khalad’s strength was counteracting Likh’s impending transformation. But it was taking far too much from him, and I knew with sudden clarity that he too would die.

  No! I struggled to break free, finding enough strength to redirect Druj’s attention back to me. For the first time, I could feel her difficulty restraining me, the Blight rune forgotten in her desire to overwhelm me again.

  No! I cried out. Kalen struggled to his feet despite his injuries. His Wind rune was deadlier than Likh’s, with none of her hesitation. Altaecia raised her hand to construct a Shield of her own, but Kalen’s rune sliced through hers like there was no barrier. The woman screamed as it chopped off one of her hands, the useless wrist dropping to the floor.

  The Blight rune flickered and faded. The young asha had not yet transformed, and I had no idea if she was dead or alive, or if the Heartforger was all that was keeping her from her horrific change. I could see the Heartshare rune wrapping itself around them without anyone’s direct guidance. And Kalen doggedly constructed more wards around them both despite his own injuries.

  Still, I was trapped. I pushed and shoved against Druj with all my might, but it was like fighting a brick wall with bare fists. She wasn’t just controlling me; she was depleting my strength. I could feel my energy draining from me and adding to hers as she greedily consumed my Dark like a parasite. Severely weakened, I could only watch helplessly as Altaecia rose to her feet, clutching her stump, and turned toward Kalen.

  Tea?

  No. There was one thing I could do.

  I turned toward another brick wall in my mind, planted there not by Druj, but by my own resolve. Desperate, I took hold of the wall I had painstakingly built and clawed my way through until the Veiling broke from
the force of my despair, until the door opened.

  Tea!

  A familiar and warm feeling took over. For a brief moment, I could almost imagine that Fox was beside me, so overpowering was his presence. I pushed with all my might and tore Druj’s grip from my thoughts. I felt her stunned surprise as her presence faded from my mind, replaced by the warmth of my brother’s. The backlash was horrible. Druj flung herself away with a short scream, crumpling onto the ground.

  The akvan reared up and screeched. No longer under anyone’s control, it thrashed across the shoreline, its head shaking in agony.

  Kalen had already collapsed, gasping into the sand. Altaecia staggered forward. Her uninjured hand was tracing another symbol. The Wind rune appeared around Likh.

  “I am sorry, my dear,” Altaecia said sadly. “But we do what needs to be done.” She raised her arm.

  The blow never came. Her hand dropped uselessly to her side as she stared down at her chest, where my knife had run her through.

  Blood bubbled from her mouth, and my mentor fell. Weeping, I removed the dagger from her body, sinking to my knees before her. She had been responsible for so many atrocities. She had poisoned me, doomed Likh, caused so much death… Still, I couldn’t stop crying.

  Altaecia made a soft wheezing sound and turned her face toward me, an eternity of regret etched onto those well-loved features. “Oh, my dear,” she sighed, and died.

  I wept, huge, wrenching sobs that shook me to the core, a sudden grief that I had not felt since Polaire’s death. Except Althy didn’t deserve my tears. She didn’t deserve anything.

  And yet…

  Likh continued to sleep, her face pale but still human. When Altaecia had died, the remaining tatters of the Blight rune surrounding her had died along with the older asha. Druj collapsed, unmoving, and I prayed she was dead.

  I felt weak, drained of energy. It had taken everything I had to break free from her control, and even more to kill Altaecia.

  “Tea.” Kalen crawled toward me.

  “Y-you’re hurt,” I stammered.

  “I’ll live. Likh and Khalad—”

  “They’re breathing, at least.” But Likh’s heartsglass was palpitating wildly, silver blending into yellow and brown and red.

  So complete was our focus that there was no sound but our beating hearts. Neither of us was aware of the akvan until it was upon us, when it was almost too late. The akvan’s deadly tusks sang through the air and I only had time to see its roughened mouth and teeth coming at us before everything became a blur.

  Kalen was faster. He rolled over, placing himself between me and the akvan’s yellowed incisors.

  Though no longer under my conscious control, the azi also planted itself in the path of the akvan’s attack. Teeth tore through its body, and my daeva shrieked. At the same time, its own three heads pitched forward, and its tail whipped, snapping into the akvan with such force that its neck was nearly severed by the attack. The other daeva fell to the ground dead. Then the azi collapsed. One of the akvan’s tusks had struck true, goring into its body and finding its heart.

  The pain was overwhelming. I shrieked, clutching at my own chest as the agony tore through me as I felt the azi’s death throes. My nails dug into my own skin and drew blood. I could not bear this. I would die here, gasping and bleeding into the sand, though it would take so very long to die.

  But as I spasmed, I felt the azi nip between us, at the bond we shared, and gently break free from my grip. The pain faded immediately, but the azi continued to shudder. Fatal as its wound was, it continued fighting for life.

  Tea!

  Fox was still in my mind but fainter, weaker. His thoughts could not gain enough traction to fall into mine like they once could, but I ignored him. I couldn’t concentrate on him now. Not when everyone was dying. And Kalen—

  At the akvan’s final gambit, Kalen had time to set up only one small Shield rune. His wounds were too deep, too severe. I pushed my hands against the injury, trying to stanch the blood spilling out of him.

  Not Kalen. Never Kalen.

  “Tea,” he choked.

  We were so close to escaping. We were so close to Tresea, to starting new lives…

  If I had ignored the Odalians’ war with the Drychta…

  If we had never gone to Mithra’s Wall…

  If I had never stood before Stranger’s Peak and asked the Gorvekai if I was worthy enough…

  “Tea…”

  “Don’t move!” The words came out angry, panicked. I would not lose Kalen. I had refused shadowglass, refused the mountain solely so I could keep him. I would not lose him now. The visions promised I could keep him if I refused shadowglass. I looked around for something to aid my efforts.

  Druj was gone. Sometime during the fight, she had fled, leaving only the dying and spiriting away Altaecia’s body as she did.

  “I told you,” Kalen managed to say, coughing up blood, “that I would protect you.”

  “Not like this,” I sobbed. “Don’t move. I’ll heal you. I will.”

  His smile was beautiful. He’d seen enough bloodshed and injuries on the battlefield to realize what was coming. “I know you will.”

  “We’ll hide.” So much blood. “Let Mykaela find another apprentice. Let them take care of the rest of the daeva. I want a small house by the shore, where no one can bother us.” I couldn’t stop the bleeding. I pressed harder. “Or by the forests. We’ll grow our own food and herbs. No one will know our real names.” Harder. “Or we can travel. We’ll see the rest of the world and wear different faces.” Harder.

  “I would like that,” Kalen whispered. “A house with you. Traveling. Everything, with you.” He laid a hand on top of mine. “I would like…daughters, with your eyes and your terrible singing voice. I am so sorry, Tea.”

  “I’ll give you everything you want, Kalen,” I said fiercely. “I will—” My voice broke, and I could no longer find the words.

  “No grave will hold me, Tea. I swear it. I’ll never leave you.”

  “I love you,” I sobbed. “I will love you for the rest of my life.”

  “And I will love you for the rest of yours.” He sighed, long and low, his voice growing weaker. “The song you sang once. At Thanh. Sing it again.”

  I held my hands over his heart, kissed him on his bloodied lips, and sang for him.

  Only Lord Fox’s timely intervention saved her. The former Faceless’s teeth had sunk into the man’s neck, which spurted jets of blood. He tried to push her off, but her grip was a vise.

  Lord Kalen’s blade was true. It slashed across her face, forced her to drop her hold on the other familiar. The Deathseeker attacked again, in a combination of flame and fire and steel, and the blighted was forced back. Her serpentlike face was a ruin; the man had succeeded in taking out an eye, but she showed no outward pain or dismay, only hate.

  “Fox!” The Dark asha went down on her knees beside her brother as the latter struggled to stand, hand clasped over the side of his neck. “I’m fine,” the man said through gritted teeth. “Are you hurt?”

  “You cannot be reckless here, Fox! She is stronger than most!”

  “She’s right,” Lord Kalen supplied grimly. “Remember the elder asha in Daanoris—stronger, faster, angrier.”

  “She blighted herself?” Lady Zoya breathed out, staring in horror at the new abomination. “But why?”

  “Her last resort. Because she’d rather be damned than give Tea what she wants.”

  “From where I stand, she already looks the part.”

  “We need to get out of here. Outside of the range, where we can use the other daeva against her.”

  The blighted Druj lashed out again, a coiled strike, but Lady Zoya clapped her hands together, and the sand sank beneath the creature again, putting her off balance. A whip of fire struck the abomination across the
chest, and she keened.

  “Run!” Lord Kalen roared, and we obeyed without question.

  We were about a hundred or so feet away when the entrance leading into to the Ring of Worship collapsed, sand and rock and great portions of mountain toppling down in a terrifying avalanche. Druj slithered toward us, hissing, whispering, yellow, irisless eyes trained on us.

  She came at me, the weakest of the runners, and my life would have ended there had not the indar dropped from the sky, its hideous talons crushing the former Faceless—only to release her with a pained scream as its talons burned from her poisoned hide.

  “She can kill even daeva,” Lord Khalad growled.

  “Better them than us,” Lady Zoya barked back. “Keep those shields ready, Kalen!”

  “Everyone has a weakness. Where’s hers?”

  “There.” The bone witch pointed at the monster’s midsection, where something gleamed in the light. “Her silver heartsglass,” she noted grimly, lifting her sword again. “If we could cut it out of her—”

  “Stay where you are.” Lord Fox rose to his feet, wincing. “If she takes you out, two of us fall with you, and she knows that. Zoya, protect them.”

  “And leave you two to have all the fun?” But the asha was already weaving strong runes of Shield over us, and I watched small pieces of dislodged rock bounce harmlessly off her barrier.

  The Dark asha paid us little attention. It was her turn to sink to the ground with her eyes closed, her expression intense. The Heartforger knew what she intended to do but didn’t enlighten me. Instead, he sat down beside her and took her hands in his. He closed his eyes, and their silver heartsglass glowed together.

  The bone witch’s familiars adopted the same tactic they used with Aadil, though with greater difficulty this time around, for when Druj faced one of them, her tail still posed a threat to the other. Her poison was another obstacle; it dribbled down her body like silky, black ichor and fizzled in the sand. Lord Kalen grunted as drops of it sprayed against him, though he remained as quick as ever. His sword ravaged the horrific tail, and he wove more Fire to shred the stump. But when he attempted Wind, it sent bile spurting in our direction.