by Rin Chupeco
“No Wind!” Lady Zoya shouted. Her defenses kept us from a grisly fate, though the poison left the unshielded ground around us black, the bile quickly dissolving the rock and debris.
The other daeva were warier. They circled the Faceless, occasionally snaking out with fangs and talons, but hesitant to commit to a full attack. The zarich tried, but the magic of the place affected it, and its breath barely conjured enough ice to frost the ground.
The savul also made an attempt but shrieked when a swipe from the Faceless soaked its limbs in the bile. It pawed at the ground in a desperate bid to wipe it off. The Dark asha hissed in pain, nails digging into the soil. Fire blazed out of the azi’s mouth, but the Faceless lifted its tail, and the flames glanced off the rough scales.
An unspoken command passed through the daeva, and they all attacked as one. Their own poisons may as well have been perfume in comparison to the Faceless’s and served the daeva no true defenses. They retreated but fought on as the bile ate down to bone. The Dark asha was shaking, her palms streaked with blood where her nails gouged her flesh.
Lord Fox avoided the beast’s long arms as she swiped at him. He feinted to one side, waiting for the blighted to snap at him, then dodged right, shoving the tip of his blade forward. It sank deep into her chest, where her heart should have been, but the creature only yowled. When the man removed his blade, it had melted from the strength of her poison. He now carried only a hilt. He swore.
“Keep her distracted,” Lord Kalen grunted, still slashing at her tail between the daeva’s flurry of assaults. The thick scales were as hard as the finest armor, and he left little more than nicks and small cuts in his wake. “Tea, fall back!” His voice was raw. “Let us…”
“There’s no time! Tea can’t keep this up!” Lord Fox discarded his sword and barreled toward the blighted, runes protecting him as he climbed up her legs to her waist. She shrieked and scratched at him, but his hands were already digging deep into her stomach, seeking the heartsglass encased within.
“No!” ripped out of the Dark asha’s throat, and the earth shuddered beneath us. The ground rose, a tsunami of dirt and soil, and as I stared at the crest of a sand-wave, I realized that the dead around us were rising along with it. The Drychta men who had served Druj were turning against the Faceless; undead hands grabbed at her, ignoring the hiss of acid as it burned through their rotting flesh.
Still wailing, the Dark asha raised her palm, and the daeva attacked. The Druj beast attempted to fend them off, but they were too many, even for her.
Lord Kalen abandoned his assault and rushed to his brother familiar’s aid, but a flash of the blighted’s tail put him back on the defensive. I heard Lady Zoya panting, struggling to extend her shield toward the two familiars.
The dead soldiers distracted the blighted woman, but her tail was unguarded. It sang through the air, dripping black, aimed toward Lord Fox. None of the compelled soldiers were close enough to stop her blow.
There was a blur of red and gold, then the tail struck the ground harmlessly, missing its target. The Dark asha had dashed forward and dragged her brother to safety, but not without a price.
Another howl cleaved the air, but this time it was from Lord Kalen when he saw her stagger and fall. The soldiers surrounding the Faceless stumbled, a few disintegrating, but Lady Zoya was quick to take advantage. Despite her earlier warnings to Lord Kalen, Wind curled around Druj’s tail, forcing it deep into the sands to keep it from seeking out another target.
The daeva hesitated, and while I could tell the asha remained linked to them, she no longer had a hold over them. For a moment, they twisted their heads to and fro in confusion, not used to the lack of Compulsion that goaded their actions. The Faceless shrilled, shaking off the rest of the undead Drychta.
The azi attacked the Druj beast first. Its three heads sank down, heedless of the poison and its own pained roars. The decision made, the rest of the daeva joined in, teeth snapping and limbs flailing as they fought to defend their mistress.
Part of the Dark asha’s hua had dissolved, and she was clearly in pain. The flesh on her shoulder had been burned off, and I had little time to see how deep the damage went before Lord Khalad appeared, blocking her injuries from my line of sight, frantically working to heal her with the Deathseeker.
Druj’s bile stripped the Drychta of their flesh and charred their bones, but despite the agony, the daeva hung on, grips tightening. For now, with the daeva attacking all at once, the creature was immobile.
“You idiot.” Lord Fox’s face was a wreck; the poison had eaten into his cheekbones and the curve of his jaw, showing more bone than skin.
The bone witch’s quiet laughter was tucked in between soft mews of hurt. “No more than you.”
“Hush,” the Heartforger instructed, ripping cloth from his own robes, mopping up as much bile as he could and tossing the remnants away as the poison burned through the fabric. He ripped more strips.
“C-can’t,” the Dark asha gasped, gently pushing herself out of Lord Kalen’s embrace. “Khalad, see to Fox. I have to end this, as I promised.”
26
I continued to sing for what seemed like hours, long after Kalen’s body turned cold. The azi had quieted, watching me with golden eyes, tired of taking so long to die. Its body continued to spasm, and it wept.
As my song drew to a close, the beast drew a deep, warm sigh. Good-bye, it whispered into my head, and then it crumbled into ashes. All that remained of it was the bezoar at my feet, shining a bright, immutable silver.
They found me shortly after that, exhausted and weak, Kalen in my arms, with Likh and Khalad still unconscious nearby. “We could arrest you,” Hestia said. Their retinue was a small affair, a cluster of old women bereft of bodyguards. During the chaos of Mithra’s Wall, they had left Ankyo unannounced to hunt for me themselves. I did not know how they achieved this without Empress Alyx knowing, but that didn’t matter anymore. “We could bring you to Ankyo and charge you with murder.”
They intend to keep this a secret like they do everything else, I thought, and a sudden urge to giggle overcame me. “Do whatever you want. I don’t care.”
“Princess Inessa, however, is a hindrance. She and her mother do not wish you dead, as to spare your brother’s life. I will be honest, Tea. When you fled Ankyo, we had intended to kill you the next day. We have had time to discuss the matter and recognize that would have been a rash decision. To carry out your execution will invite hostility and retaliation from she who will one day become empress.”
“I don’t care.”
“Neither do we. We are willing to wait for you to live out your natural existence, however short or long that may be. We release you from all ties to the asha and to the Willows. You shall be exiled, free to wander and die as you see fit. But we want your silver heartsglass. We will not tolerate any more of the chaos you’ve spread through the kingdoms. In exchange, we will allow you to continue on for your brother’s sake.”
I wanted to laugh. I wanted to weep. It was the best offer I’ve ever had. Had I been given it earlier, perhaps I would not have left Kion in the first place. “Will you protect Khalad and Likh?”
“They will suffer no punishments for their decision to follow you.”
I thought there would be more fanfare. That my heartsglass would spark a protest. That it would take more than a sea of salt and skulls to break my spirit. But that was a different Tea’s concern. I had nothing left to feel.
Wordlessly, I handed over my silver heartsglass, and my strength along with it. It made no difference. My heart had died with Kalen.
Tea? It was Fox’s voice, distant and tinny. But when Hestia’s hand closed over my heartsglass, his voice disappeared completely.
I watched the elders weave wards around my heart. Hestia nodded at the others. “Take the other two. Do not injure them.”
One of the asha trot
ted off to inspect the rest of my belongings and returned triumphantly with the pouch that held all my bezoars. The others wove Wind to lift Likh and Khalad gently off the ground. When they turned to follow suit with Kalen, a sob rose in my throat. “No. He stays with me.”
The asha paused, uncertain. “Mistress Hestia,” one of the elders worked up the courage to say, “Lord Kalen is of Odalian royalty. Surely King Kance would want his body returned to—”
“He stays with me!” I shouted.
Hestia gestured for silence. “I will grant you your wish. Let it not be said that I am not charitable.” She stared at the silver heartsglass in her hands for several seconds, then back at me, with the barest hint of pity in her gaze. “All this trouble,” she said, “for something so insignificant.”
They left me that way, alone and already forgotten, cradling Kalen underneath a murky sky.
“I felt you,” General Pahlavi said. “I know that now. I felt shock and pain, and I reached for you on instinct. You took a lot of strength from me, and I could barely stand when it was over. But when I tried to seek you out again, your thoughts disappeared from mine. And when we learned Kalen died and Likh was injured beyond healing…I searched for you for months. I didn’t know if you were hiding yourself deliberately, or if you were being held against your will.”
“I am sorry. I thought to do what was best for us. We both did. I had no other recourse. The elders would have hunted me down. Druj would have done the same. I am sorry for causing you pain, but I am also glad for it. My choices were not kind to Mykkie or Polaire or Kalen, but I can save you at least. That’s all I want.”
The bone witch staggered to her feet and, with Lord Kalen’s careful guidance, approached Druj, who was still being restrained by both the daeva and the fallen soldiers. Painfully, she crouched beside the creature, who snapped in vain at her face. The Lady Tea’s hands plunged into the creature’s chest and plucked out the blighted’s silver heartsglass. Druj howled.
“Well now,” she mimicked the Faceless’s words from a lifetime that had been folded between the pages of an epic letter. “Shall we see what unfolds here?”
She wove a rune invisible to my eyes, and Druj screamed, horrific, bloodcurdling screams that bounced from one mountain to the next, until the Ring of Worship echoed with the sounds of its torment. Before the sounds died, I watched her body crumble to ashes, borne back into dust to mix with the dark sand surrounding us.
Wordlessly, the bone witch walked back to the ruined entrance of the Ring of Worship, and we followed closely. This time, the daeva showed no fear, limping at our heels. At Lady Tea’s gesture, we halted on the edge of the corpse-laden sand, remaining in the shadows of the mountains that surrounded us while the asha moved into the circle of light.
She stumbled. Lord Kalen caught her before she hit the ground, and Lord Fox clambered forward despite his own injuries, the rest of us not far behind.
“Stay there!” she commanded. “I do not know how far down the roots of the First Harvest goes. Should any of you come into contact…”
“And why should you take the risk?” Lady Zoya shot back.
“The First Harvest can only be reaped in the radiance of both lightsglass and darksglass. Only Kalen and I are protected.” She gestured at her own black heartsglass and that of Lord Kalen’s heartsglass, the same silver that the Faceless Usij once wore. “Stay there, and let me end this.”
She sank to her knees before the strange, withering plant. One of the berries broke off easily in her hand, its juices seeping into her palm. “Rashnu the Just talked of a powerful sound like thunder,” she wheezed in between deep breaths, her strength seeping more quickly than any of us feared, “and saw his comrades disappear in a cloud of light. How many Dark asha have traveled here, hoping to bring back their loved ones with the juices of this accursed plant only to join them in death? What were Vernasha’s final words? But I—I’ve done it.” Her voice lilted, softened—a happy sound. “Fox, I did it.”
Tea of the Embers walked toward her brother, knelt. The unseen rune she created in the air sent blood dripping down her finger, mixing with the fruit’s dark juices. Lord Fox inhaled sharply, and his face changed, healed. His horrific burns faded, replaced with unblemished skin, and healthy flesh once more crept over the bones of his jaw, repairing his deformity until he was the royal consort of old. Her purple-stained hand pressed one of the berries against his silver heartsglass. “Let it work,” she pleaded. “Please—by all that is holy and good, let this work…”
The runeberry gleamed brightly, leaching into the silver. Lord Fox’s eyes widened, and for the first time in years, his lungs truly took in air. His nostrils flared, and he made a gagging sound.
“I can breathe,” he gasped, bending over from the rush. “I can breathe…” And then, pained, horrified, “I can’t feel you with me.”
“Kalen,” the bone witch said, “you could—I could also be—”
“You idiot.” Lord Kalen had never sounded more affectionate. “I crawled out of my grave, as I promised. Do you think I’d let you get away again? You promised me daughters with your eyes. Where you go, I will follow.”
A sound between laughter and crying tore out of her. Another rune flickered against her palm. I could almost see the edges of it, a symbol like the branches of a heavy oak, the magic so concentrated that even a red heartsglass could perceive the enormity of its strength. It braided itself around the runeberry patch and, for a moment, the world stood still.
Then the plant grew. Budding shoots sprouted out from hidden seeds, the fruits growing plump. Vines wrapped around a rapidly forming trunk, which rose out of the sands until a fully formed tree was splayed proudly before us. Silver leaves fanned from multiple branches, rich and bright against the glare of the Drychta sun.
“The Sacred Tree,” Lord Khalad whispered.
The Dark asha dropped a hand to her side. She was deathly pale now, her black heartsglass pulsing erratically against her breast. Lord Kalen held tightly to his lover, face strained as his own strength battled to support hers a little longer. Lady Zoya began to cry.
“I have to finish this,” the Dark asha murmured, feverish. “You understand, don’t you, Fox? I can’t stay here. Not like this, not after knowing who I am, not after what they did to Kalen. But I wanted to make sure you could. Are you still angry at me, Fox? About the wars, about Daisy?”
Weeping now, Lord Fox lifted her hands to his mouth and kissed them. “I’ve always loved you, Tea. Even though I was too foolish to show it. There must be something else…”
“I had months to understand that there is nothing else. Don’t you see, Fox? I’m happy. This is what I want. Zoya, it won’t do Shadi any good to see you blubbering on like this.”
“You fool,” the other asha sobbed. “They will write songs about you, even if your bard will not.”
“I will.” My own words were choked, wrung from my throat. “I will honor you, milady. I will spend the rest of my life singing.”
“Perhaps one day you will do more than sing, Your Highness.” She focused on the Heartforger. “Khalad. She will be safe now.”
There were tears in the man’s eyes. “I didn’t help you solely for Likh, Tea.”
“I know. I will always be grateful nonetheless. Give her my love when she wakes.” The bone witch tried to stand, but Lord Fox wouldn’t release her. “I can’t let you go. I can’t. We have to… It isn’t fair. You gave up everything and now you’re—”
She touched his face affectionately, and his hold on her tightened. “I’ll go with you.” He cried against her unharmed shoulder. “Don’t tell me to stay. You can’t order me around anymore, Tea. I can’t ask you to do this without me. We’ve been by each other’s side for so long. You’ve given me a new lifetime, so let me spend it apologizing. Let me make it up to you. Please. I can’t… Tea, I can’t—”
“Fox,�
�� her voice was soft, sweet. “Let me go.”
He froze.
“Inessa would hate me.” She pressed a kiss upon his stricken face. “And I would hate me as well. I love you, Fox. And if you want to prove that you love me, then live every day with meaning. Wherever I am, Kalen and I will watch over you.”
Lord Kalen offered her his hand. “Are you ready, love?”
Her smile was blinding. “Always.”
The azi approached them, its three snouts nuzzling against her, protective. Like her, it was dying. They were all dying, bone showing and blood flowing, maimed deeply by the Faceless, but all seven of the great beasts looked at peace as they began their final journey.
“Are you scared?” I thought I heard the Deathseeker ask, but I could not hear her quiet reply, her laughter the only sound floating back to us.
We could only watch as they and their pet daeva walked toward that beautiful tree. Lady Tea and Lord Kalen turned back to smile at us, and then he bent down to kiss her, fiercely and ferociously and lovingly, until they were swallowed by the holy light.
The tree continued its upward spiral into the sky, climbing higher into the clouds until I thought it could reach the heavens. The landscape changed. Streaks of light shone around us, and for the briefest of moments, I felt serenity within the depths of my soul like I had never known before.
Then the light disappeared and the tree along with it. We were left in the empty field of sand, which started blooming to life as ponds of water formed and small green shoots grew around us, restoring the place to what must have been its ancient beauty. I looked down in wonder and discovered the Lady Tea’s letters at my feet.
27
I could have bathed him in my tears.
I had no oils to anoint him aside from asha-ka perfumes, no ceremonial robe to clothe him, but an extra cloak. I brought his body to the banks of the sea and dug at the hard sand until my hands bled, until I had uncovered a hole wide enough to hold him. We had talked about living by the seashore, but this was all I could afford him. I had no strength left to give, but everything I had was for him still.