The Heart Forger (The Bone Witch #2)(48)

The thoughts retreated. Blood rushed to my brother’s face. “Yes to both. I’m not proud of it.”

I sighed. “You really liked her, didn’t you? More than Gisabelle?”

“That was uncalled for, Tea.”

“I wasn’t prying into your head. You’re just not compartmentalizing well enough today to hide your mind from me.” I sat beside him. “What now?”

“Pretend nothing ever happened. Look, you need to talk to her—and soon. I don’t want to stand there to make sure you do, but this can’t go on. Can’t you at least bury the hatchet with her? Having her angry is to no one’s advantage.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“At least try.”

A wry smile crossed his face. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Kalen’s back,” Althy called out.

I stood to leave, but his voice stopped me. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

Fox kept his gaze on the ground. “I know I should have told you earlier. But when you found out…were you OK with it? About me and…?”

I grinned, feeling a little better, and rapped him lightly on the head. “Of course I was. Obviously, I had some reservations. But she’s a nice person, and I know she made you happy. I’m not pleased that you aren’t happy now, but…well, that’s all I really want—for you to be happy. You know that, right?”

He smiled briefly. “Yeah. Thanks, Tea.”

We returned, and I focused on the azi. It continued its cautious patrol around the city but perked when my mind touched its own.

Come.

With a jubilant cry, it turned and sped off. I could feel trees and hills blurring underneath my talons as we raced to the lake we called home.

The ground around us rocked as the daeva landed before me. Zoya swore and jumped back, and runes glittered in the air as both Kalen and Althy reacted on instinct.

But the azi cooed. It attempted to lick at my face, but I put a stop to that immediately. As far as anyone knew, I’d started controlling the azi today and not in the previous year, and its affection might draw suspicion.

“I don’t know about this.” Zoya’s voice was strained.

I led Chief up its massive frame to the spot I knew was most comfortable. “You’re not afraid, are you?”

Zoya glared at me, then made a show of stomping up the beast, tottering a little. “Definitely not!”

Likh looked like he would much rather stay put, but when Khalad clambered eagerly up the azi’s back, he followed gingerly. Althy hefted first Mykaela and then Polaire on top of the dragon, settling them securely on the base of its three necks like she’d done this many times before.

Princess Inessa was next, not bothering to hide her fright. I watched Fox hesitate, then hold out a hand to help her up.

I turned to Kalen, who was glaring at me. “I’m sorry,” I began.

“No, you’re not,” he snapped and climbed up before I could say anything else.

Can’t you at least bury the hatchet with him? Having him angry is to no one’s advantage.

Shut up, I growled, and then the azi was back in the air with a happy cry, hurtling through the air toward Ankyo over the sound of Zoya and Princess Inessa’s screams.





The army raised a white flag at dawn to signal for a temporary truce—an unusual course of action for an army that surrounded a fallen city and had yet to attack.

There was no crowd when the small contingent marched down the empty streets. Kion had sent in too many soldiers, far too many for a compromise. But the bone witch let them pass through the palace gates unmolested; perhaps the daeva still camped outside, watching the newcomers with eager eyes, were enough of a deterrent.

The Dark asha was prepared; the throne room had been removed of the injured, who had been moved to a smaller hall. Khalad and the Daanorian princess had gone with them. Lord Kalen had disappeared with the emperor, and I didn’t want to know where the Deathseeker was hiding him.

A fresh bouquet of flowers had been brought in from the royal gardens. It was a strange idiosyncrasy of hers; even during her exile by the Sea of Skulls, she had kept garlands in her cave. “Monkshood,” she told me, smiling. “And a rare flower called a belvedere. Are they not beautiful?”

The Empress Alyx of Kion swept through the door of the throne room, flanked by her personal guards, in as grand an entrance as could be mustered given the situation. With her was a shriveled old woman, short and bowed over but wearing the most unwieldy hua I had ever seen; it traveled for several meters behind her and a couple more on either side, her form nearly swallowed by the bulky fabric. Striped-yellow carnations were painted on it, an odd choice for an older woman. Her white hair, pulled in a tight bun above her head, was almost hidden by the collection of zivars piled atop it, each ornament more ostentatious than the last, but all eclipsed by a jewel crafted to resemble an azalea flower at its very center. Despite the woman’s slightly ridiculous appearance, I thought the bone witch flinched, though she recovered quickly.

Another asha joined them, dressed in a somber hua of tinted blue and gray and wearing a pinched face. Despite the simplicity of her dress, her heartsglass case was the most extravagant of them all. Hammered gold vines and inlaid leaves circled her neck and folded behind her silver heart. She would not stop staring at the bone witch’s black heartsglass, hatred blazing from her eyes.