The Heart Forger (The Bone Witch #2)(53)

“Is there anything you can do for Prince Kance?”

She shook her head. “Not at the moment. But I will do my best.”

“And of Polaire and Mykaela?”

“The same amnesty I give you.” Empress Alyx smiled sadly at me. “Althy is doing her best to support Mykaela. I understand that your mentor cannot leave Odalia at the cost of her life, but Polaire’s sacrifice buys us time. You must thank her when she wakes.”

“Thank her?”

“The attempt on Grand Duke Besserly’s life—some of the Faceless’s followers who’d escaped vowed revenge, so Polaire claimed credit to shield you. They’ve all since been captured or killed by the Yadoshans.”

I swallowed hard. “Thank you for telling me this, Your Majesty.”

“Councilor Ludvig,” Khalad said, “I’d like to ask you more about your friend’s sleeping illness…”

Kalen was the first one out of the room, and I hurried after him, blocked his path. “Kalen! I didn’t have a chance to—”

“Then don’t.”

“Kalen, please. I want to apologize. I know I had no right to compel you, but I had no choice—”

“No choice? No choice? You compelled me against my will, but now you’re telling me you had no choice? And now you ally yourself with the azi? The daeva that had killed many of my friends?”

“I—I—”

I had no good answer to that. Kalen strode away, and I closed my eyes, desperately willing away tears.

There was a small cough from behind me before Althy spoke up. “Polaire is awake, Tea, and asking for you.”

I took a deep breath, trying not to show how much his anger affected me, surprised by the strength of my upset. “All right.”

? ? ?

One would have thought it was Polaire who had lost her heartsglass, that it was Polaire withering away all these years. The asha’s cheekbones were jagged peaks stretched across a barren landscape of skin; her eyes like faded twin moons. Mykaela slept on the bed beside hers, an unnatural glow about her serene face, and her heartsglass pulsed softly in tandem with the brunette’s.

“About time they brought you here.” Mykaela’s voice was the only thing familiar about her; it was subdued and weaker but still vibrant. I wanted to throw my arms around her and beg for forgiveness, but I was afraid of her frailty.

“I am sorry,” I sobbed, the tears running freely. “I should never have doubted you. I didn’t—”

Polaire shook a gaunt finger at my face. “How pathetic,” she said, coughing, “and how embarrassing. Little things have never tired me before. You have a poor understanding of your priorities, but I was young once and very much like you. Mykaela and I are fine, despite how we look. Our unwanted distance from Odalia has given us a heavier load to bear, but we will survive this.” Her eyes drooped. “The empress told me you are going to Daanoris to find the Heartforger.”

“I’ll find him.” I squeezed her hand. “I promise I will.”

“I know, Tea. That I never doubted.” Polaire sighed, her eyes falling shut. “I have been sharing my heartsglass with Mykaela for months now. Another month or so will make no difference. Heartshare. A Compulsion that us regular asha can use.”

“For months? Polaire, how did you know of the rune?”

“Her study,” Polaire mumbled. “Hestia.”

“Mistress Hestia?”

But Polaire was already asleep, her breathing steady.

? ? ?

The oracle’s temple looked the same as when I had last left it: the same winding halls and confusing corridors, the same fiery pit burning at the center of its only room. The oracle herself was unchanged. Despite the heavy incense, she wore a thick veil to obscure her face. Asha are expected to meet her only thrice during their lifetime: before they are accepted into an asha-ka, when they become an apprentice, and again when they become a full asha. I have visited her twice more after that. She had predicted my bond with the azi and Aenah’s imprisonment. Now I return a third time, seeking more.

Without waiting, I threw one of my zivars into the fire, watched the shiny opal gleam for a moment before disappearing into the flames.

“Did you know this would happen?” I demanded. “Did you know the prince would take sick?”

“As it was written,” the oracle whispered, a chorus of voices accompanying the sound.

“Will he get better? Will Mykaela and Polaire get better?”

“With death shall come enlightenment. It is not Kance who you shall weep over, broken and bleeding. You shall weep once for regret and another for family, one more for mercy and two for love. You must tread on a path of dead, asha. Only then will you find your shadowglass.”

“What deaths?” I cried, but it was useless. The oracle turned away and said nothing more.

Standing outside the temple much later, I made a fateful decision. I scried and reached out—but not to Fox. I followed the spiral of thoughts leading toward the asha-ka and into House Imperial. The mind I entered was a rigid maze, full of right angles and narrow lines. I felt suffocated, undercurrents of thought pushing me in directions I did not want to go. At least with the azi, in its swamp-like mind, I could choose my own paths.

I swam against the tide, struggling, until I found the memory I feared I would find: carefully locked away in a hidden drawer of the mistress’s study was a familiar book of bound leather, the embossed upside-down crown stamped on its cover. But Mistress Hestia’s mind reared up, alarmed, and the image disappeared.