The Heart Forger (The Bone Witch #2)(54)

“Do not let Empress Alyx’s submission deceive you. She is wiser than many of the other elder asha.” The bone witch continued to linger by the flowers, inspecting each bud. “Did you notice Mistress Parmina’s hua?”

“I wasn’t sure she could fit through the door, milady.”

“The larger and more flamboyant the hua, the more she liked it. She wasn’t fond of flowers, and yellow carnations are typically worn among the younger asha. It suggests youth not usually attributed to someone of Parmina’s age.”

“Perhaps she didn’t think about the implications.”

“No. Parmina had always been vain about her appearance, always quick to follow the conventions of dress. She is craftier than the elders who rule the association at least.”

“It will take some time before they can muster any attack,” Lord Kalen said, watching the women and their guards ride out of the city from the window. “In the meantime, you need practice. How long has it been since you’ve used your sword?”

The asha had not backed down when up against an empress, an elder asha, and her former mistress. But under Lord Kalen’s raised eyebrow, she wilted. “Several weeks maybe.”

“Tea.”

She raised her hands. “I mourned you for months, and the only thing you single out is that my sword skills are rusty?”

“Are they? Did you seriously think I was going to change because I died?”

She glared at him, and he glared back. She surrendered. “I suppose not.”

Without warning, Lord Kalen pulled her close to him and kissed her hard.

She whimpered softly.

“Get your sword.”

It was a dance of blades. Her fierceness met his skill, matching him stroke for stroke. The bone witch worked hard for every parry and blow, but the Deathseeker’s shoulders were relaxed, deftly avoiding the brunt of her attacks but taking his time to counter.

Finally, the asha’s blade snapped against his shin. They stopped; the girl was breathing hard, and the boy not at all.

“You let me win!” she finally growled, but the frown never quite reached her burning eyes, bright from more than just the fight.

“I always let you win.” He sidestepped her fury, caught her mouth in his again. She resisted at first, still in protest, but gave up soon enough, leaning into his taller frame. Red-faced, I turned to watch Khalad at work instead. The Heartforger’s eyes were on the clay before him, but he was grinning. “Get a room, you two.”

“A good idea.” The Deathseeker lifted the asha in his arms and carried her across the hall, her halfhearted, half-laughing protests carrying through the corridors, the first genuine sounds of mirth since we had arrived.





15


I had no delusions that Kalen would resume his sword practice sessions with me after everything that happened, so I took the initiative. The revelations my scrying uncovered had kept me awake the night before, and I was haunted by their implications. If Aenah spoke the truth about Hestia, then was she right about others? Did the elder asha hide Mykaela’s heartsglass and not Vanor?

I chased those thoughts until morning and found, despite my lack of sleep, I had excess energy that needed spending.

I knew Kalen trained at dawn. The look on his face when he found me waiting at the courtyard, my practice sword at the ready, would have been funny in any other circumstance.

“Get out,” he said curtly, though it was he who turned to leave. I was ready for his rejection, shrugging off the twinge of hurt.

“You promised Prince Kance you would protect me.”

He stopped. I pushed on.

“You might not like me right now, but I’m prepared to make it up to you any way I can. I want to save him too. And if that means learning to defend myself better, then I’ll be damned if you let your opinion of me break your oath to the prince.”

For several moments, he stood as still as the wind. I closed my eyes, prepared for him to rebuff me again. Images of the azi passed through my mind; it was sailing leisurely along the Sea of Skulls, by Tresea’s coast. I watched the sparkling waters underneath us, wishing I could sink down into it.

A rustling noise made me open my eyes again. Kalen had stripped off his coat, his chest bare. I remembered how he looked at Lake Strypnyk, near naked and soaking wet (magnificent, a hidden voice inside me trilled), and I frantically ripped away my gaze, looking up to meet his brown eyes instead.

“What are you waiting for?” he rasped.

An hour later, I regretted my offer. Fox had wandered in—first to watch and then to keep score. Seventeen for Kalen. A measly four for me.

I hopped back and charged again. He parried my attack and swung overhead, but I was ready this time and blocked. He was tougher and more relentless than before, and I realized then how much he’d been holding back in our previous spars.

“Stop,” Fox finally said after Kalen scored another hit. I dropped to my knees, puffing, annoyed that he’d barely even broken a sweat.

“Better form than usual,” the Deathseeker said, surprisingly. Then, because he could never stop at a compliment when he could also add an insult, he continued, “But not all that much better.”

I bit back a retort. I was used to Kalen’s snide criticisms, but I wasn’t used to the cold way he said them, like he meant it this time. The azi let out a baleful sigh, sensing my thoughts.