The Shadowglass (The Bone Witch, #3)(73)
Agnarr studied Likh with interest until the asha’s ears turned pink. “We will fight, every man and woman, to our last breath,” he said, “but the winters grow longer, and men grow more complacent. There is truth in what you say, Lady Likh. It sounds like you have an alternative proposal for us.”
Likh glanced back at me.
I took over. “We do. I have no intentions of ruling or taking away magic. All I desire is that no one else does until another Dark asha is deemed worthy of the curse. Faceless know the process of both lightsglass and darkglass. What if they ignore the mountain and attempt to create shadowglass on their own?”
“One asha tried. The founder of Kion herself. Lightsglass she discovered on her own, and the bezoars she tried to collect. But when she attempted darkglass within that Ring of Worship the explosion took out much of Drycht and caused the Dry Lands. It was already an arid desert during the Great Heroes’ time, but now nothing grows there. The results will be very much similar to those who attempt shadowglass without our mountain’s benediction.”
I gasped. “Vernasha of the Roses tried to make shadowglass?! But she tried to ban the spell!”
“Temptation is strange, Lady Tea—it crawls out of unexpected places. The idea that she could shape magic to her own desires may have held some appeal. I assume it was a cause for shame among the asha, and most information surrounding her death was buried quickly.”
“That might not stop others from trying to make shadowglass.” Khalad spoke up. “People never believe paint is wet until they have touched it for themselves. Somehow I don’t believe Aenah or Usij were willing to wait and let Stranger’s Peak pass judgment on them.”
Likh frowned. “So you’re saying we need to at least hide the bezoars?”
“That’s been worrying me for some time,” Kalen said. “Why not collect them sooner? Surely they could have gathered all the bezoars before we ever came into the picture?”
“I think it’s because of the resurrection seasons of the daeva,” Khalad theorized. “They tend to be staggered—the taurvi takes seven years, for example, and the nanghait three, and so on. There’s never been an occasion where all seven daeva could be resurrected to take their bezoars at the same time. When the savul can have its bezoar harvested, the zarich’s would be close to rotting. The azi had not been sighted since the Great Heroes’ lifetimes, and gods only know where Aenah found it.”
“Not anymore,” I argued. “First Minister Stefan said the nanghait had been resurrected earlier than expected. I think someone’s discovered a way to raise the daeva before they’re supposed to.”
“Then it must be a recent discovery,” Khalad said. “Aenah and Usij never raised their daeva earlier than their cycles. Druj must be the culprit.”
“Does a rune like that exist?” Kalen demanded.
Agnarr paused. “Yes, it does.”
“What happens to the daeva after you incorporate their bezoars into shadowglass?”
“They fall under the thrall of whoever holds the shadowglass. Their owner’s death before its completion will simply condemn them to their usual demise, to await resurrection once again. Their mortality becomes permanent only when magic truly disappears.”
I considered that. “So they’ll be docile if their owner commands them to?”
“What exactly are you getting at, Tea?” Kalen asked suspiciously.
“I don’t know yet. But surely, surely there’s a way we can. Lord Agnarr, I saw a vision inside the mountain.”
Agnarr traded glances with his daughters. “Rarely can an asha pass one of the trials,” he murmured. “Much less two. You are only one of four in history to have ever done so.”
“Almost isn’t the same as being successful,” I said brusquely. “I saw Kance’s soldiers fighting blighted Drychta. Have I seen the future? Was Stranger’s Peak responsible for my sight as well?”
“For better or for worse, our mountain rewards the worthy, my lady. Duty offers brief glimpses of what may come, and Honor offers strength.”
“And that is all the assistance I can expect?”
Agnarr was quiet for several seconds, his head bowed. “Yes. Your ways differ from ours. What you believe is an immediate threat, we see as history in a constant state of repetition. The Faceless Eshrok came close to killing the Odalian king for his urvan one hundred and twenty years ago, only to be slain by Veshyareda of the Light. The Faceless Kinma killed Brenymede the Lovely and was three daeva away from taking all seven before he was felled by the young Anahiko, a newly pledged asha of House Imperial. It is always a matter of life and death, and every time we keep our silence, the world does not end. Shadowglass is our paramount duty, not the rise and fall of kingdoms. If you wish to help, then weed out the Faceless who dare usurp the daeva and destroy him and all other armies that follow.”
“That doesn’t sound like a permanent solution,” Khalad said.
“Nothing is permanent, Heartforger.”
I turned away, disappointed. “We’ll make for Mithra’s Wall, then.” I was angry at having come so far, at having gone through hell inside Stranger’s Peak, only to find myself with nothing to show for my efforts.
“You are a wiser woman than when you entered our mountain, Tea,” Lord Agnarr said. “Heed my words carefully. Magic that we cannot comprehend touched you there, left traces of itself in you. You have passed the trial of Honor, and your strength has grown. You have passed the trial of Duty, and your eyes have been opened to glimpses of what may come to pass. Only the trial of Love eludes you. Perhaps in the near future, it is a trial you will find worth repeating.”