The Heart Forger (The Bone Witch #2)(11)



He smiled. “Heartforgers don’t have to deal with daeva. Although Master likes to say they’d probably be better company than the people we deal with.”

“How is the old man?”

“Traveling.” Never idle, Khalad was building a pyramid of pebbles on the table. “He visited Istera last month, and he’s now in Daanoris. He’s on the hunt for rare memories, and there are a few strange illnesses he wanted a closer look at. There have been some cases of a sleeping disease that turns its victims’ heartsglass gray. He’s been working on an antidote. Said it was promising.” He looked at me and then glanced back at the small glass case he had made. “We haven’t been able to find the rest of the ingredients for Lady Mykaela yet. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Dark asha cannot regenerate heartsglass, though new ones can be forged. But finding the memories needed for Mykaela’s had been difficult: a memory of love and sacrifice, a memory of a heinous act committed, and a memory of surviving dire odds. Khalad had already extracted that last one from my battle against Aenah and the azi.

“Master told me something about King Vanor,” Khalad began, hesitant. “He had met with the king shortly before he was assassinated. Master wasn’t fond of Odalian nobles, but he was fond of my uncle. Master says he isn’t as bad as you think he is—”

I covered my heart with both my hands, glaring. “You saw me raise Vanor!” I accused.

Khalad blushed. “I don’t get to choose what I see in heartsglass. You know that.” His hand jerked, and the pyramid he was building tumbled. “Sorry.”

“Well, you’re wrong on one count. He’s a horrible bastard, and I can understand why he was killed.”

“Tea!” Fox warned.

“You know I’m right. Why would Vador hide Mykaela heartsglass if he loved her?”

Khalad exhaled noisily. “I don’t know. But Master was adamant about Vanor’s innocence. He was sure of it.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty because you were related to Vanor, you know. It’s not like you were responsible. You feel things too much.”

“My master has said that on many occasions. He’s not wrong, but it helps me forge better.” Khalad was suddenly eager to change the subject. I made no complaints. “We still need those two memories for Lady Mykaela’s new heartsglass. I’ve looked through several possibilities, but none are of the potency I need.”

“How about a heinous act committed by a Faceless?”

“That would probably work. They’re not known for doing things half…” He trailed off, shocked. “Tea, you don’t mean that!”

“Why not? We have her imprisoned and then she’s in no position to refuse us.”

“I have to side with Khalad on this one,” Fox said. “Aenah’s crafty enough even when she’s powerless. Don’t drag Khalad into a battle he hasn’t volunteered for.”

Khalad’s eyes lit up from behind his spectacles. He tugged at his hair, which was white, like most Heartforgers’. “You misunderstand me, Sir Fox. I’m not turning it down. I can’t extract any memory from a Faceless if she’s not willing, but I’m curious about the other notions I might find in her head.”

Fox groaned. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

“It’s worth a shot, I think.” Khalad paused and added after a sidelong glance at my heartsglass, “But don’t tire yourself for Kance. He wouldn’t want that. He can be a little…oblivious sometimes. Even more so nowadays.”

Was my crush really that obvious to everyone but the prince himself?

Yes, Fox said in my head. Yes, it is.





“There is something strange about the soldiers, Tea,” Kalen said.

That was true. When the arrows and fiery pitch had failed, soldiers streamed out of the Daanorian palace. It was a suicide mission, and they struggled forward as if every step was agony. It was obvious they were terrified, their eyes rolling back in fright. But despite their reluctance, they continued, drawn onward to their impending deaths by some unseen force.

“Compulsion, and a poor one at that,” the bone witch noted. “He is unskilled and desperate, barely able to control his army.”

Shock tore through me. “But only Dark asha can use such magic.”

“And Faceless. Most likely he wields a seeking stone, modified to channel magic. But the darkrot comes quicker, and to allow him to use compulsion unfettered suggests that his master has already marked him for death.”

The monstrous three-headed azi swept down, and the asha climbed on its back with ease. “You say I have kept you in the dark. I offer you the chance to see with your own eyes. If you are not afraid, come with me.”

But I was afraid. I feared her pet dragon as much as I feared the one who could compel these poor soldiers against their wishes, but after my earlier protest, there was only one choice to make.

I scrambled up the azi’s back, white-knuckled and bathed in sweat, and held on as it flew swifter than any wind. It made for the castle with all haste, the asha sitting beside me as serene as if she were on an excursion to the countryside.

We found the hanjian atop their highest tower. The changes in him horrified me. Only a few hours ago he had stood in golden armor, issuing orders. Now he lay wizened, like some unknown creature had drained him of blood and sustenance, then left him crouched on the floor like an emaciated monkey. He clutched at a round black stone in his hands, gibbering nonsense. A growing shadow surrounded him, lashing at the air like a whip. His heartsglass pulsed silver.

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