The Heart Forger (The Bone Witch #2)(13)
The silence that followed was the quiet of the tombs. I clenched my fists, refusing myself any emotion. It was always like this. While I could use Compulsion to command her physically, I could not compel her to speak any secrets she had no desire to say. A strange barrier to them lay in her mind, one I could not yet batter down.
“Tell me more about Yadosha and about this strange sickness.”
Aenah sighed, disappointed. “Usij and I do not always see eye to eye in how to lead the Faceless, but I kept myself abreast of his comings and goings to ensure his schemes do not interfere with mine. I know he intended to poison a few royals as the first step to achieving shadowglass.”
“And what does shadowglass do?”
“This has been a fixation with you as of late. Why so curious about shadowglass?”
I said nothing, only waited.
“Perhaps I shall tell you this time.” Aenah grinned. “It is the prize we all seek, Lady Tea. Did you not wonder at the color of my heartsglass that fateful night I revealed myself to you?”
“That fateful night we caught you,” I corrected her.
“However it happened, black heartsglass is the ultimate fate of bone witches like us, Tea. Dark asha do not live long lives. But when they do, it is only a matter of time before their hearts become corrupted.”
The air turned hot, took on a spiteful edge. She smiled again, with a mouth full of secrets. “How long will it take for yours to turn as black as mine, Tea? A year? A month? A day? I have been inside your mind. I know of the shadow that makes its home there. Do the others know? Does your brother know? Perhaps not—they would not grant you this much freedom if they did.”
“Enough!” My fingers itched for more runes. If only I had full control of her heart, I could use it to wring every drop from it until it bled knowledge—but no asha would permit such torture, even on the worst of criminals. And so I put aside my anger because if there is one thing I am, it is that I am not her.
“If you will not provide information about Yadosha and this sickness you speak of, I will leave. What does the illness have to do with black heartsglass? What does Druj intend to do in the city-states?”
“Druj is a fool who plays the same old tricks but crows like they were new. The target is Lord Besserly this time, at his residence two days from now. And as for the royal illnesses…” She smiled again, but this time, her mouth was bitter at the corners. “The old Heartforger and his apprentice. How sad of the young lad to be stripped of his titles to serve a crotchety old man with little humor to his name.”
I remained silent.
“They praise Blade that Soars, the first forger, and Dancing Wind, the first asha.” She snickered. “Blade that Soars and Dancing Wind doomed us from the beginning. When Hollow Knife was close to finding the key to immortality, they united to kill him. The prince would have saved us all—no death, no diseases. But you are gullible fools to believe Dancing Wind’s lies, that she would do it simply out of love. Love! Ha!
“Well, we all diseased in our own way, sweet Tea—our heartsglass tainted by mortality. Whatever our wars and petty quarrels, in time, it will matter little. Riches and glory do not matter when our bodies rot.
“There is a way, or so it is said, to achieve immortality. But the ingredients we require are not as trite as happy or sad memories. Lineage is important. We require royal memories.” She chuckled at my confusion. “The legends talk of the five Great Heroes, descendants of Blade that Soars and Dancing Wind, who put down the first Great Daeva who roamed the land. But their slaying was incomplete, so the Great Daeva was split into seven lesser daeva instead.”
“I do not wish to sit here and listen to children’s tales, Aenah,” I said, fuming.
“This is far more than myth, Tea. For the Great Daeva’s bezoar granted immortality. Surely you do not go about collecting bezoars and still not believe that such a possibility exists?”
“But what does that have to do with nobles falling sick?” I asked impatiently.
“Not just any nobles—nobles who can trace their lineage back to the Five Great Heroes.”
I stared at her.
“Must I spell the rest out for you? I would take good care of your Odalian king if I were you. His family belongs to the house of Wyath, of the Great Hero Anahita’s line. A pity if that family should fall sick under unusual circumstances. Quite ominous circumstances for a betrothal, I’d think.”
“I require a memory from you,” I interrupted, refusing to rise to the bait.
“Oh? Does the young Heartforger have need of my assistance?”
“He requires a memory of an atrocity committed.”
“I can provide enough of those with more to spare.” She smiled. “But I would like something in exchange.”
“This is not a request. There will be no exchange.”
“Then I refuse. Perhaps when we have more to bargain with.”
“I could compel you.” That was not true. And heartforgers could not draw memories from the unwilling.
Oddly enough, she grinned. “Perhaps. There is nothing more exhilarating than the ability to impose your will on others. Do it, Tea. Compel my mind. I do not need to cast spells to know you wish to test your strength against mine, to see if you could make a better Faceless than me.”
I banged on the door, my signal that the interview was at an end, her morbid eagerness unsettling me. Aenah’s laughter rang through the halls before the doors slammed shut. My angry thoughts swimming out to Fox were the only answer he needed about the productivity of our session.