The Heart Forger (The Bone Witch #2)(49)

The last asha was a woman in a hua of brilliant blue, wave patterns dotting its hems. Her long golden hair billowed out behind her, and her gaze was trained on the bone witch’s face. The bone witch had frequently described Lady Mykaela as beautiful, and I could see that she did not exaggerate. But there were lines across the older woman’s face, which was marred from a lifetime of tragedies.

“It’s been a while, Tea of the Embers.” The empress had a reputation for flamboyance and playfulness; none of that was in evidence now. “We thought you dead. Imagine our surprise when word reached us of you raising daeva along Tresea’s and Daanoris’s coasts.”

The bone witch had the gall to grin. “If it makes you happy, many times these last few months, I thought I should have been dead too.”

“Fool!” The old woman in the elaborate hua flounced forward. “I did not spend my hard-earned money on you only to bring down our reputation! Oh! If I could go back in time and stop you from ever darkening the Valerian’s door!”

“I’m surprised you volunteered for this, Mistress Parmina. Though I am honored that the empress herself came to see me.” She paused. “And how are you, Lady Mykaela? Are the others at camp?”

“Our friends are all waiting for us in Kion; I came alone for this campaign. You’re looking well, Tea.”

A specter of a smile appeared on the girl’s face. “And you haven’t changed at all, Mykkie.”

“As always, Tea, you are a magnificent liar. Where is the emperor?”

“At peace.”

“Tea—”

“I did not kill him, Mykkie. You have my word on that—if my word is still worth anything to you.”

“Do not speak like you still talk among friends, bone witch,” the woman with the vines-and-leaves heartsglass thundered. “You broke our agreement, Tea of the Embers. We had an understanding, and you sought to steal from our very noses—”

“I stole nothing, Hestia.”

“You gave us your heartsglass. In exchange, we promised to spare Fox’s life!”

“‘Sparing’ his life is an overstatement. My brother would fare well even without your attempts.”

“You broke our treaty!”

“Is that what you call a treaty? To resort to blackmail as I lay on the ground, weak and helpless with death, in the sands? Black heartsglass will always return to you regardless of anyone’s control, whether you wish it to or not. Someone told me that once upon a time.”

“Shut up, Hestia.” Lady Mykaela cupped the bone witch’s face with her hands. “Oh, my sweet child,” she said softly. “We searched for you for months. Fox was grief stricken, his only consolation was knowing you were alive. By the time reports reached us of a strange creature sighted along the Sea of Skulls, it was too late. Why are you persisting in this insanity? You will destroy Kion!”

“Not Kion, no. But there are injustices entrenched in Kion that deserve death.”

“I will not allow such talk from a traitor!” The fire burning in the palm of Mistress Hestia’s hand was frighteningly real. But when she raised her arm to unleash the flames, the bone witch’s hand moved. The elder asha paused in midthrow, eyes wide.

“Traitor?” the girl asked softly. “You are the last person to speak of treason. I should let you burn for all you’ve done.”

“Let her go, Tea!” Lady Mykaela raised her hands, gesturing firmly. The bone witch’s lifted in response, and Mistress Hestia was pushed aside by some unseen force, still trembling with both anger and fear.

The battle the two asha waged was invisible to our eyes. Occasionally, one would flinch from some veiled blow, but neither wavered. Another elder asha, smarting over her mistress’s humiliation, sent a quick streak of flames slicing toward the Dark asha’s direction—only for another of her colleagues to stumble into its path. Her hua caught fire.

“Water!” Mistress Hestia shouted, and within seconds, cloudbursts appeared; the woman was shaken and singed but alive. She remained frozen to the spot, her eyes panicked.

Lady Mykaela lowered her arms. “Tea,” she said. “Please.”

The fires died out completely, and the elder asha sank to the floor, gasping for breath. The bone witch turned away from the monkshood flowers and rearranged the belvedere. “I reject your offer and give you my own: leave Daanoris. Stand in my way and suffer.”

“You know we cannot do that, Tea,” the empress said.

“Then we have nothing to discuss.”

The wizened old lady with the overabundance of zivar paused, eyes resting thoughtfully on the flowers the asha tended. “We receive your message perfectly. Our time with this foolish child has been wasted.”

The empress bowed—bowed!—and left with Mistress Parmina.

“Well, Hestia?” The bone witch’s voice was soft—so very soft. “Are you prepared to face me?”

The elder asha hesitated but hurried out after her colleagues.

“It’s not too late, Tea,” Lady Mykaela pleaded.

“I have no choice. You still do not believe me.”

“Then swear to me that you didn’t kill her, Tea. That she didn’t die by your own hand.”

But the Dark asha was silent.