The Shadowglass (The Bone Witch #3)(23)

“I’ll stay behind to help Rendor,” Councilor Ludvig informed me. “A full investigation must be carried out, and he’s asked me to take charge. Let me do what I can here while you do what you can in Kion. Perhaps we can find the answer coming at both ends.”

“I will miss you,” I told him tearfully, hugging him tight.

He snorted. “I’ll see you in a few months, child. Let’s not be too dramatic about this.” But I thought his eyes were misty as he said it.

King Rendorvik presented me with Sakmeet’s journal before we left. “She had no living relatives here, and her writings should be appreciated by one who understands her work.” I was touched and thanked him warmly.

Lord Garindor promised to hide both of the rare books should any other asha come from the Willows. Lord Cyran seized Khalad’s hand, promising to help the Drychta protect the tomes with his own life if necessary, oblivious to Likh’s displeasure.

All good-byes said, I reached out toward the azi again, knowing full well it might be the last time. The daeva understood; I found sorrow instead of anger, but the thoughts reaching out to me were those of comfort. This time, there were no visions of Istera in flames to torture me as we climbed up into the sky and became lost among the clouds.

As before, we landed a good distance from the city, where we had departed. To our surprise, soldiers arrived as we were disembarking. At their head was the elder asha, Hestia, smugly in the lead. With her was the Deathseekers’ leader, Zahid, and Kalen’s friends Ostry and Levi, both unable to hide their discomfort.

The azi was quick. As soon as we had disembarked, it launched itself into the air and vanished from view, heedless of Hestia’s stuttered ultimatums. Seething, she turned to me instead.

“Tea of House Valerian.” Even under the spell of the Calm rune, I had to resist the urge to smack the smirk off of the elder’s face. “On behalf of the Willows, I am arresting you for the murder of Sancha al-Sarim.”

“Who’s that?” Likh asked, confused.

Kalen planted himself in front of me, and Althy stalked toward the other asha. “What evidence do you have?” she demanded.

“The evidence of Dark magic. Witnesses report a girl transforming into some foul creature—one much like a daeva, which only a bone witch is capable of. Mykaela has been cleared of the crime, leaving only one other bone witch.”

There was some movement among the Deathseekers. I looked past them and saw, much to my shock, my family in attendance. My mother and sisters were weeping, and Daisy was pale. My brothers stood silently beside my father, though they cast frequent glares at the elders.

It was the first time Councilor Ludvig broke a promise to me; our good-bye at Istera was the last I would ever see him.





“Yes,” Councilor Ludvig admitted. “I never saw her after that. Hindsight is quite the bastard, isn’t it? I should have accompanied her back to Kion. I did good by Rendor and his father for decades. Could have done good by her…” His voice trailed off, and he coughed. “What good is half a century of experience when I’ve got nothing to show for it but an old man’s regret?”

The Valerian survived the fires that had engulfed many parts of Kion, a miracle given the ruination of the Willows. Cha-khana stood smoldering, stripped down to their foundations, and other asha-ka fared no better. Their noted botanical gardens lay in ruins, centuries of landscaping and meticulous tending eradicated in the space of minutes. In between the dawn and the dead, very little remained. The destruction here was worse than the rest of Ankyo.

Now it served as a base of operations for its surviving leaders. Mistress Parmina granted Councilor Ludvig temporary rule of her asha-ka while she was away, and until she crossed the Swiftsea with the rest of the Kion army, the Isteran made the most of his duties, overseeing both the repairs for other asha-ka who were not as lucky and negotiating safe havens and supplies for the rest of the newly homeless.

A quick word passed between Khalad and Kalen, but the Heartforger did not follow us into the Valerian. His face was drawn, an invisible weight pressing down on his shoulders that made him bend, an old man despite being in his prime. But he walked with a steady, inexorable pace, quickened by some intangible motivation. He strode past the Valerian asha-ka toward some destination I could not fathom. I paused, unsure if I should follow, but Lord Fox made the decision for me.

“Leave him be.” He sounded harsher than usual. “It’s been a while since he’s set foot in the Willows, and there’s someone waiting for him. This is not the time nor the place for an audience.”

“Is it family, milord? Or the old Heartforger?”

“No. Old Narel passed away some months ago. Khalad left Kion shortly after that. I always thought that grief from his master’s death motivated his wanderlust. Khalad would not have chosen to leave her here in Kion otherwise.”

Her?

Fox continued, “But his alliance with my sister puts his reasons for leaving in a different context entirely.”

“Was someone he knew injured by the fire?”

The man smiled briefly. “You will get nothing else out of me, Bard. Tea may have granted you permission to her story, but Khalad’s is not open to discussion until he says otherwise.”

“They might come after him next, Fox,” Lady Altaecia cautioned. “The elders’ numbers have greatly dwindled, following Hestia and the others’ deaths. They may suspect him to be Tea’s accomplice.”