The Heart Forger (The Bone Witch #2)(109)



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The old forger and Khalad stood on either side of the sleeping princess’s bed, the former holding out a vial where a thin sliver of thread lay nestled within. The last few weeks had taken their toll on the old man, the strength gone from his heartsglass. He could no longer attend to his duties when we return, and the expression on Khalad’s face told me he knew that. “It should have taken us three days to make,” the old man said. “But Khalad here found a way to shorten the process to six hours. Would never have thought of it either. If you didn’t keep sedating yourself into insensibility, taking out your own memories to fashion heartsglass for every poor soul who asks, imagine all the things you could have done by now.”

That didn’t sound like a compliment, but Khalad beamed like it was. “I’m glad you approve, Master.”

The man laid a hand on his shoulder. “Your father’s a mess of a man and more a fool for rejecting you for prejudices you have no control over,” he said gruffly. “But you’re as close to a son as I’ve ever had, however badly I word it at times, and I don’t think I’d have been any prouder, even if I had one of my own.”

Khalad swallowed hard. “That means a lot to me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

The old man clapped him on the back. “Let’s get to it anyhow. Girl’s been sleeping long enough.” He held up the small container. “We never forget any of the heartsglass we’ve touched,” he said. “I can replicate each of the sleeping noble’s urvan at this point, and I’ll show Khalad every one too, just to be sure.”

“But that also makes you a target all over again,” Princess Inessa told him, troubled. “The Faceless won’t need their heartsglass anymore—all they’ll need to replicate shadowglass is one or the both of you.”

The old forger smiled. “That’s a problem for another day. Khalad?”

Reverently, Khalad placed the shimmering heartsglass on the sleeping girl’s chest, and it shone a bright ball of red and pink hues.

The Heartforger carefully unstoppered the lid, and the new light burned brightly in the room; it was like looking into the sun. I shielded my eyes from the glare, endeavoring to peek through my fingers. Both forgers appeared unaffected. As I watched, Khalad lifted the small yarn-like thread out of its container and extended his hand toward the sleeping princess.

As if seized with a life of its own, the thread drifted slowly toward the girl, landing on the center of her heartsglass—and passed through it like it was slipping through water. The surface of her heart rippled.

Princess Yansheo opened her eyes and noisily sucked in a great big gulp of air. It was done.





The body was draped in heavy black cloth when I returned, and the blood had been cleaned; I knew enough not to ask questions. Princess Yansheo came with me, white and trembling. I had told her all I remembered, but she took the discovery better than I had. “Shifang was always arrogant and selfish,” she said, “but he was never wicked. Your story explained many things he had done these last few months. I was fortunate enough not to be harmed, but others were not so lucky.”

I did not have the heart to tell her that Usij kept her unharmed because he intended to harvest her urvan once more should the forger fail to help him. To tell her, I decided, was unnecessary cruelty.

The bone witch never looked down at the corpse and continued to watch from her window. “Tell the soldiers to draw back the gates,” she said quietly. She still held the Faceless’s heartsglass; though Usij was dead, his heart lived on. It was no longer the sooty black it had been in life but a sparkling silver.

“Ironic,” the bone witch said with a smile, “that we would recreate Blade that Soars’s lightsglass from the most repulsive man I ever had the displeasure of meeting.” She looked down at her own heartsglass and sighed. “And that I would recreate Hollow Knife’s in mine. Open the gates.”

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“We are leaving Daanoris. We have what we came for.” She turned to Princess Yansheo. “Whatever your people might think of this in the coming years,” she told her, “know that I leave your kingdom without a madman on the throne.”

“But who will lead us? Usij killed my true emperor.”

“The Heartforgers proved that you are descended from Great Heroes, more fit to rule Daanoris than Shifang ever was. You called for change, Yansheo. I see no more qualified person to lead this kingdom.”

The princess took a deep breath. “I have my own councilors, people I trust. I—I owe that much to my Shaoyun. I will make him proud of me. I will work hard to be a good ruler. I will be one, a true one, the next time we meet.”

There was a faint hesitation on the bone witch’s part before she nodded.

“I will go with you,” the Heartforger said.

“It’s too dangerous, Khalad. Stay in Santiang for the meantime.”

“Danger has never stopped me before. I go with you.”

The bone witch paused. “I cannot promise your safety. You are still needed by the people. You can do well here.”

“That will not stop me from doing what I believe is right, and the quicker we can prevent war, the fewer lives will be lost.” He trembled. “I’ve already lost too much. You know that.”

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