The Shadowglass (The Bone Witch, #3)(69)

“I will not call the azi this close to Stranger’s Peak unless you want a firsthand view of an avalanche.” I kissed him again and turned to face the entrance. The snow had lightened, and I could make out some small torches burning inside. At least I wouldn’t be in total darkness. “I’m ready, Lord Agnarr.”

The Gorvekai stepped aside, forming a short line on either side of me as I walked toward the entrance, their features solemn. Despite Agnarr’s reassurances, I felt like I was about to head into danger, and that feeling lingered.

Inside it was cold, but at least there was none of the swirling snow. I gingerly felt my way through the narrow corridor, the torches lighting my path for another mile or so, until I reached the final burning wick. Up ahead, darkness stared back.

I took the torch from its makeshift holder—only for the fire to go out without warning. I whirled around in time to see the rest of the torches flicker out one after the other, until there was complete darkness.

“Seven hells.” I could turn and go out the way I came in, or I could forge ahead. Despite what I’d told Kalen, I reached for the azi, but found no consciousness other than my own. It felt like the mountain was one giant, runic ward, more complete and thorough than any I’d encountered before, and it prevented all kinds of magic, powerful and small.

I trudged on, with one hand on the wall to keep my balance. My eyes gradually adjusted; another fifth of a mile out, I found myself facing three forks in the path, all leading into further darkness.

Agnarr had never mentioned this. I paused, indecisive, until my eyes fell on three small, headstone-like markers growing before the diverging paths like stalagmites, weathered and eroding. Words glowed on each: Duty on the leftmost stone, Honor on the right, and Love at the center.

I had no idea what the stones meant and decided it would make no difference whichever one I picked. I made for the left passageway, cautiously passing the stone. I took several steps before finding myself blinking against a sudden glare, back in the Valerian asha-ka in Kion.

Confused, I looked around, but the cave had disappeared. Instead, there was Polaire, carrying a fan in one hand and splaying the other at her hip, smiling coldly at me. I shrank back in fear, the shock of seeing her alive making my knees buckle.

“You want to cast shadowglass, child?” Her voice was brittle, mocking. “Do you think to cast the spell and that will be all there is to it, Tea? Foolish girl. You have always been foolish. It’s why Parmina rejected you all those years ago, when you first came to the Willows to make your mark as an asha, none of us knowing you would do so with soot and ash. You have always been blind to consequences. That’s how you killed me.”

I shook. “Who are you?”

My sister-asha grinned. “I am the truth, you stupid chit. Always have been. You traveled here to see me judge you worthy of shadowglass. I’m here to tell you that you won’t be. Have a look.”

She stepped out of the Valerian. I followed—and stopped.



Kion was in flames. I could hear the screams of those trapped within buildings, heard the wood collapsing under the weight of fires. I saw bodies in the streets, and smoke sending soot into the blackened sky. I saw friends, lifeless, with unseeing eyes and outstretched arms. Beyond the destruction, I could make out the shape of the azi as it flew overhead, breathing death down into the city. Frantic, I reached out to the daeva but could not connect with its mind.

This is a nightmare, I told myself. I reached for a burning piece of wood without thinking and then cried out in pain, dropping it. The pain was intense and all too real.

“This is what happens when you take shadowglass,” Polaire said. “This is what happens when you fancy yourself worthy of a god’s heart. You will bring about Kion’s destruction. You will wreck the lives of everyone you have ever loved, and you will doom them to hardship until the end of their days. We of the shadow can pass no falsehood through this mountain, and you know in your heart that this is your fate.

“Your duty to the lands outweighs your duty to those you call friends, those you call allies. The world must burn in order to heal. Do you still find yourself worthy, Tea of the Embers? Do you still accept this responsibility?”

I knew then that she told the truth. Already I had ruined lives. Already I had imagined Kion burning. “Yes,” I choked out, still weeping and cradling my burnt hand.

Polaire vanished, and the rest of Kion with her. I stood inside the dark cave once more, but this time only two paths remained open to me, their passages yawning into night. But my wound remained, and I had to bite my lip against the throbbing pain.

Now Honor lay to the left, with Love on the right.

Trembling, I stepped into the left passageway once more. There was another spark of light, so blinding I had to cover my eyes with my uninjured hand.

“It is time.”

I gasped. King Kance stood before me, his hand held out for me, smiling gently.

“Kance? Your Majesty?” I took his hand. He was warm, solid, and reassuring. “What are you—?”

He tucked my arm underneath his. “They’re waiting for us, Lady Tea. Let’s not be late.”

“Waiting for what?”

“For your execution, Tea.” Kance’s smile was soft, but it held an edge of malice. “Or have you forgotten? All the spells in the world cannot make up for your sins. Surely you didn’t think you would be allowed to live after everything you’ve done? You killed Polaire. You ruined my father. Everything you touch bleeds sorrow and misery.”