The Heart Forger (The Bone Witch #2)(93)

“I would very much like to hear her story. I know so little of her—much less than I thought I did. She saved my life many times. I would do everything in my power to save hers if I could.” She looked up at the daeva standing before her; they gazed curiously back but made no approach. “But she is right. Her people will kill her, even without a trial. The Tea I knew would never have thought to invade a kingdom with the very daeva she had sworn to put down.” It sounded like a question.

“I am their chronicler, not their confidante.”

“She plays a lone hand. She no longer trusts us. I don’t even know if she trusts Fox anymore.” She looked back at the palace. “But Fox trusts her now. I know, even without his saying so. Kalen is with her, and so is Khalad. If there is a voice of reason among us, it is Khalad, despite all he’s been through himself. He has every reason to hate Tea, but he does not. I can always trust Khalad.” Her voice broke, and her tears fell. “I have to. Otherwise, nothing makes sense anymore. It was good to see him. It was good to see Kalen.”

“Let’s go, Inessa,” Lord Fox said, already astride his horse.

The princess turned. “We gave in so easily. We could still convince her to come back with us.”

“When she reestablished our bond, I knew we could not convince her. There are blighted folk in Daanoris, Inessa. We must return to see if any are hiding among our own army before it’s too late.” Ignoring her gasp, he looked at me. “I don’t know what Tea plans. There is still much she refuses to share. I do not know if we can withdraw our forces or convince the empress, but I will not lose my sister again, no matter what she says.” For an instant, the grim lines around his mouth faded, and Lord Fox’s eyes lightened to a gray mist instead of starless midnight.

He nodded at the Deathseeker. “It’s good to see you again, Kalen. Protect her for me.”

“I always have.”

“Write her a good story, Bard. They say the best tales spare no mercy and spare no lies.” He paused. “But spare her anyway,” he added quietly and nudged his horse onto the road that would lead them out of Santiang.

A kind man, I thought as I watched the two ride away. Too kind. But of all I have seen of war, kindness makes the best of commanders and the finest of soldiers.

? ? ?

The bone witch knelt at the center of the throne room, studying her hands as we entered. Gently, the Deathseeker took her wrists, turning them over so he could see the damage her nails had wrought.

“Did I kill her?” The Dark asha asked him, despair in her voice. “Fox said I did, and he would never lie. Her blood on my hands, and my brother as a witness. What if I took in too much darkrot and killed her in my rage? How could I do that? What if I am as guilty as they say?”

The man said nothing.

“I killed a king, Kalen. And then I killed two more of our own. I did not want to kill her, but I did it anyway, and they cannot say it wasn’t deliberate. And the other…my own…”

She whimpered, hand grasping at her chest, breathing hard. “I can feel the Dark in my soul. I thought I could stand it, but now I am afraid of what I can do. Of what I might do. I have killed Faceless and innocents alike, and whether they were one or the other, I am afraid it will no longer matter to my conscience. I tried. I wanted to show them how my daeva can choose not to kill, that I can choose not to kill. Inessa was right—I’m no longer the Tea they know. But did they ever know who I was to begin with? Did you? Did I?”

Lord Kalen bent down and kissed her forehead.

“Promise me, Kalen. If I succumb to the darkrot before I finish, you must kill me. Quickly and without hesitation.” She found his hands. “I am sorry for bringing you back only to suffer this. I thought I was stronger. I thought that being with you would make me stronger.”

The Deathseeker kissed her cheek, her nose, her lips. “I promise. And whatever happens, know I will be with you. Until the very end.”





24


To say that Baoyi was as suspicious of us as we were of him was an understatement, though his suspicions extended to those in Shifang’s royal court, particularly toward Tansoong. There were guards stationed not only outside his room but also inside it, and the man himself was dressed for battle, with a short sword in one hand and the other twitching toward a broadsword mounted on the wall of his room. Though he and Khalad seemed to have come to a mutual understanding, Baoyi remained incredulous of our motivations until Khalad handed him the old forger’s letter.

“This is his handwriting,” he said, studying it carefully before opening a drawer and taking out another piece of paper. “This is the letter Narel sent me a few months ago, noting his intentions of visiting Yansheo. But he never arrived, and I assumed he had changed his mind. When you told me that you were searching for him, I had no idea he was in trouble.” Baoyi sounded almost accusatory.

“How do you know the old forger exactly?” Zoya asked him.

“He is an old friend of my father’s since childhood, before an asha discovered his skills in magic. The emperor tolerates him only because he returns to heal our sick. But I have known him since I was a little boy.”

“Narel is Daanorian?” I knew the forger was not Odalian or Kion but little else. “Narel isn’t a Daanorian name, and he doesn’t look Daanorian.”