The Bone Witch Read online

  “I hope we haven’t kept you waiting, Your Majesty,” Zoya apologized, playful and coy. She glided in to take the empty seat beside his.

  “I’m sorry, but I have the strangest feeling that we’ve met before.” Prince Kance was staring at me with a puzzled smile. The blue-eyed girl had reestablished her hold on his arm, ignoring Zoya.

  “Why, Your Majesty,” one of the asha declared, fluttering her eyelashes at him, “what a thing to say! Here we are, and yet you barely spare the rest of us a glance or even a word of greeting!”

  “I mean no disrespect, Yonca, but I don’t think I’ve met her at any of the cha-khana here before, which makes her familiarity even more puzzling.”

  “One asha is the same as all the others,” said the blue-eyed girl with the death grip on his hand, her obvious disinterest a visible fog that clung to her shoulders. “Why even bother with learning their names, Kance? There’ll be a new set next week with the same faces and dresses!”

  The smiles of the other asha broadened. Zoya’s even managed to look pitying. “To understand asha is a mark of one’s understanding of foreign affairs.” The sincerity and gentleness in her voice nearly fooled me. “I would be happy to help you improve your education on such matters if you’d like, Princess Maeve.”

  The girl scowled. Prince Kance snapped his fingers. “I remember! Weren’t you in Kneave last spring with Lady Mykaela, during our heartsglass ceremony? Tea, isn’t it? I’m quite sure of it.”

  He remembered my name!

  “You’re welcome, Your Majesty,” Zoya said demurely. At his puzzled expression, she continued, “I heard that the newest recruit of the Valerian was from Odalia, and since you are friends with Lady Mykaela, I thought it would be nice for you to see a familiar face from home while you are staying in Kion.”

  “Why, you’re the little bone witch!” Princess Maeve exclaimed, suddenly gleeful. “Tea? An odd name surely. You look nothing like they say at all—just a little thing in black weeds and dirty shoes! There’s nothing scones and crumpets about you.” The other girls giggled. Emboldened, the pretty girl continued. “Maybe it’s true. You’re younger than my mother said you should be. You’re Mykaela’s get, I suppose? Bone witches oughtn’t breed. Rats have better reasons to.”

  “Your manners, Maeve,” one of her companions remonstrated, a pretty, doe-eyed girl.

  The yellow-haired princess laughed. “Why should I, Lia? Nasty gits, bone witches. The older one is who they call Mykaela, isn’t she? You look too young to be anything, though I suppose even witches were young once.”

  “Lady Tea was a new apprentice when she left Kneave. I may not know much about the Willows, but I know not even your finest asha could have risen through the ranks so quickly.” The prince gestured at me to sit, and I did so with relief, afraid that my shaking knees might give me away. My headache had only increased since stepping into the room. “Tell me the truth, Lady Tea. Are these girls playing a trick on you?”

  I tried to work through the logic in my head. I could appeal to the prince for help, but that would put me in more trouble in the long run. The last thing I wanted was punishment worse than cleaning the outhouses.

  “My sisters were kind enough to make an exception for me for this one night, as a favor to Your Majesty,” I said, hoping I sounded meek enough for Zoya’s satisfaction. The room tilted, and I shut my eyes briefly. Lady Shadi was slimmer than I was, and her hua must have been tighter than I had thought.

  A snort sounded from one end of the room. Prince Kance’s lone male companion didn’t bother to rise from his seat to greet us when the prince did. He was a year or so older than him, was dressed in a somber black from head to toe, and still gave off the impression of wearing chain mail despite being garbed in expensive silk. His brown eyes regarded me with suspicion. “Knowing what I know about Lady Zoya, I think that unlikely.”

  Zoya lifted a hand to her chest, pretending a show of dismay. “Oh, Lord Kalen! I’m distraught by your low opinion of me. But as you and Prince Kance seek our companionship whenever you stay in Ankyo, perhaps you do not dislike me too much?”

  The man snorted again. “Prince Kance makes the arrangements. I’m only along to keep an eye on him.” He made no protest, however, when the other asha crowded around him, laughing, and he accepted a glass filled with an amber-colored drink that one of the girls poured.

  Prince Kance smiled at me. “I hope they haven’t been teasing you. They’re nice girls, for the most part.”

  “They’ve been teaching me a lot about what it’s like to be an asha,” I said softly, because that was true enough. “What brings Your Highness to Ankyo?”

  “Politics, for the most part. My father is visiting Empress Alyx for a few weeks, to bolster a new trade agreement between Odalia and Kion.”

  Another snort from the other boy. “That’s an odd way to describe your impending engagement with Alyx’s daughter, Kance.”

  “Do not joke so, Kalen,” Princess Maeve said tartly. “My mother would have known of any such arrangements. And why would anyone be affianced to that Kion strumpet?”

  “Princess,” Prince Kance chided.

  I felt deflated. Arranged marriages are common among royalty, but I hadn’t thought that applied to Prince Kance for some reason. “But you’re not that much older than I am!”

  “Kance isn’t engaged,” the boy in black drawled. “But they do marry Odalian princes young. All the easier to indoctrinate.”

  “This is my cousin, Kalen,” Prince Kance told me. “You’ll have to forgive him. We’ve been visiting cha-khana since we were eight years old, but he’s never been one for good manners.”

  I could barely concentrate on what he was saying. I kept my gaze on my lap, trying to focus. This felt wrong. I had never felt so lightheaded before. Had Zoya or one of her friends done something to me?

  “I don’t see the importance of good manners the way asha seem to,” Kalen said. “People respond to a show of force, not to etiquette. You asha are powerful in your own right. I don’t see why you have to wrap it up in pretty clothes and dancing. People don’t kowtow to me because I know what type of spoon to use with my stew.”

  “You’re a man, Kalen,” Zoya laughed. “Or, rather, you are the type of man who has little patience for intrigue, and so you dismiss it and think others should do the same. We women prefer to have more subtlety. No one should ever need to feel offended just because we’re getting what we want—less of a mess on the furniture, for instance.”

  “You’re right about one thing,” Kalen said. “I have no stomach for schemes. Tell me what you think of me to my face so we can have it out once and for all; that’s my kind of etiquette.”

  “With all due respect, Lord Kalen,” Sveta purred, “I think that’s exactly why people prefer subtlety—to avoid a confrontation, not least of all with a Deathseeker like yourself.”

  “Girls!” Zoya exclaimed. “We’re here for our guests to relax and unwind, not talk about the petty politics between Odalia and Kion. Their food has arrived, so I propose we play some songs while they eat! We’ve been practicing hard for the upcoming darashi oyun. Would you like a preview?”

  Prince Kance nodded with some eagerness, and Kalen straightened up in his seat, setting his now-empty glass down on the table. Even Princess Maeve could not feign boredom.

  One of the other Falling Leaf attendants arrived, laden with trays of food: five kinds of soft cheeses, fresh flatbreads, stuffed vegetables steeped in spicy sauces, a fancy legume stew called āsh, and sabzi polo rice with chopped herbs and trout. They all smelled good, but I was too distracted to appreciate them.

  Zoya, as usual, took the lead. She glided before the two noblemen, her hand lifted in the air, and waited for some unspoken signal. Four other girls took their positions behind her, copying her movements. Two more asha took up a corner of the room, strumming at setars. As one, they beg
an to play a slow, almost mournful melody.

  Zoya moved. Her sleeves lifted and fell as she pivoted on one heel and began a series of complex moves, and I felt my breath catch in my throat, the pain in my head forgotten for the moment. There was something haunting about the way she turned her head, as if she were filled with an inconceivable sadness that lent gravity and a sense of genuine melancholy to her dancing. She pivoted across the room, and the long robes that clung to her became less of an impediment and more of an emphasis, a weapon by which she could direct her energy, and every step she took appeared effortless. As much as I disliked the asha, I felt like I could forgive her in those minutes when she danced, if only for the chance she gave me to see something so magnificent.

  It was only when they were halfway through the routine did I notice the spell she was weaving. Zoya was expertly sketching out a rune in the air without taking a break from her dancing, so that the act of drawing the rune looked like a natural part and parcel of her choreography. It blazed out before us, the symbol perfect and flawless and so heavy in size that it stood as big as she was.

  Zoya’s fingers made a minute, almost inconsequential flick, and one by one, tiny flames sputtered up from nothing, dancing in the air in silent accompaniment. I clapped a hand to my mouth to swallow my gasp. Everyone else had left their food untouched on their plates, mesmerized by the asha’s performance. A mixture of grudging appreciation and envy painted the girls’ faces. Kalen leaned forward, eyes intent, and Prince Kance… The admiring way he looked at Zoya made my heartsglass flicker in pained response.

  I wanted to dance like her. I was captivated by her grace, by her fluid movements, by the way a series of small steps and hand gestures can make someone look so beautiful. And I too was selfish: I wanted Prince Kance to look at me the way he was looking at the dancing asha.

  Zoya ended with a graceful flourish—one hand raised, the hem of her dress swishing forward as she performed her final steps. She held the pose for a few seconds and then giggled, breaking the silence. She clapped her hands, and the asha behind her bowed. Prince Kance and his friends applauded. Princess Maeve scowled again. My headache returned.

  “That was breathtaking, Zoya,” Kalen said, reluctant admiration in his voice.

  “I have to agree,” Prince Kance added. “I have seen asha perform many times, but yours put many of them to shame.”

  The asha smiled at him. “Thank you, Your Highness. And I sense, Lord Kalen, that for all your distaste of the subtle, this is the one exception about asha that you do appreciate. You must try the sabzi polo, milords. It’s the Falling Leaf’s specialty, and the cook will be disappointed if it goes untasted.”

  “It’s almost a wonder that they did not give you the role of Dancing Wind in the darashi oyun.” Honey dripped from Princess Maeve’s voice.

  Zoya’s smile disappeared abruptly. “How did you know that?”

  “My mother is an avid fan of the performances, and she makes it a point to attend every year.” Maeve shrugged. “The role you are to play is—let’s see, that of Falling Tears, isn’t it? A subordinate role to the main lead. An adequate performance, but it must be shocking to know that there are better dancers than you. Let me recall—why, it’s Lady Shadi of the Valerian cast as Dancing Wind! She must be brilliant if she can beat even full-fledged asha for the role even before her official debut!”

  “Unfortunately, to be the most accomplished dancer does not guarantee one a starring role in the darashi oyun. There is more of the subtle politics at play here that Lord Kalen despises. And the houses have decided on Shadi.” Zoya shot me a nasty grin. “Isn’t that right, Tea? The Valerian is known for its dancers, isn’t it? Would you like to see how my dancing fares with House Valerian, Lord Kalen?”

  “Lady Shadi isn’t here.”

  “I’m sure her apprentice would be more than adequate for the task.”

  I felt cold all over. Zoya gestured toward me, her lips wide and her eyes glittering.

  “But isn’t Tea still a novice?” Prince Kance protested.

  “Oh, I’m afraid dancing is still a bit over her head. I’ve never seen an asha with such two left feet! No, she’ll play a simple enough song on her setar called the ‘River Dance,’ which is the first song we learn. All novitiates know that melody by heart. She would not be worth her salt as a budding asha if she makes a mess of even that.”

  Some of her friends looked less certain. It was one thing to dress up in hua and pretend to be an asha, and it was another to force one to prove it.

  “I’m not so sure about this, Zoya,” Sveta said uneasily.

  “I am very sure,” Zoya snapped. “Come on, Tea. It wouldn’t do to embarrass me in front of your noble guests, would it? She came prepared enough to bring an instrument to play!”

  Grabbing my arm, she led me, stumbling and still clutching Lady Shadi’s setar, to sit in front of all the guests. I sank down onto the floor and tried to fold my legs underneath me. My mind was a blank, the pounding in my head had worsened, and I was no longer sure it was because Lady Shadi’s hua was too tight on me.

  “Well?” Zoya urged. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Lady Zoya,” I mumbled. “I don’t feel well.”

  “She doesn’t look very good, Zoya,” Prince Kance said. “I think we ought to let her rest.”

  “Absolutely not,” the asha said firmly. “We are taught to perform even when it greatly inconveniences us. If she doesn’t learn how to get through a little sickness, then she won’t be of much good as an asha. Come on, Tea. Here, let me help you.”

  She sat down beside me and tried to guide my fingers to the strings. She was having difficulty because I was shaking. The pressure in my head increased, a hideous buzzing in my ears so loud that I could barely hear anything else. Let go, I thought I heard something whisper.

  “What a disappointment you must be for your mother,” Princess Maeve said. “And I thought Lady Mykaela’s get would be more impressive.”

  “She isn’t Lady Mykaela’s daughter,” Prince Kance reminded her.

  “Mum says the Odalian bone witch has no heartsglass,” one of the other girls interjected.

  “But why not?” another asked.

  The princess laughed. “Because she gave her heart away. Take a bone witch’s heart and you take most of her powers. That’s what happened to the Odalian witch. Gave her heart and paid for it, crying and bleeding, in the dust.”

  “Don’t you dare talk about Lady Mykaela that way!” Sudden anger seized me, and the fury pulled and prodded at the growing pain in my head, like someone had taken a hammer to my skull. I felt my heartsglass change to the color of soured milk.

  “Why not? It’s what happened,” the girl taunted. “It was a scandal, it was. Even Princess Nercella knows it, and her kingdom’s all the way up Stranger’s Peak. Your mother gave her heart away, and King Vanor took her powers just as she deserved. She can’t raise the dead the way she used to anymore or curse people even. The more daeva she summons, the faster she’ll die. She’ll spend the rest of her days drawing hearts for children’s amusement and be good for nothing else until the day she falls into her own grave.”

  Her words whirled around me like a hurricane. It explained so many things—the king’s easy acceptance of Mykaela and his insistence that we be treated well. Bone witches weren’t welcomed in many kingdoms. But if they grew weaker with every Dark rune they drew because they no longer had a heartsglass to draw strength from, then people could afford to be magnanimous.

  And Lady Mykaela had kept it hidden from me all these months. They all had.

  “I’m bored with all this dancing and setar playing. Witch’s get or not, she would have powers of her own, wouldn’t she? Do you, little girl? Come, show us your stuff.”

  “Your Highness,” Yonca spoke up, alarmed. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  “
And why not? Surely the queen of this decrepit little kingdom won’t go so far as to allow bone witches to slum at her doors when they can entertain with their magic. King Telemaine’s only soft on her because she reminds him of his dead brother!”

  “You mustn’t talk that way, Maeve!”

  I clutched at my head, the blood roaring through.

  “Please…” I gasped, fingernails digging at my temples. There was an unbelievable pressure there, an elephant settled onto the weight of my brain, demanding escape.

  Prince Kance was on the ground beside me in an instant, holding my shoulders. “Are you all right, Tea? What’s wrong?”

  Let go.

  With a strength I didn’t know I possessed, I pushed at the immensity of that crushing force with my mind. I let go.

  Something snapped inside me, a coiled spring finding release.

  The girls paused in their bickering to stare at a large crack that appeared on the wall, the lines zigzagging and growing as they watched. It crumbled—and hordes of skeletal rats came scampering out, the bony, tail-flicking mass filling the room and overrunning the carpet.

  Screaming, the girls stumbled over each other to get out of their way. Several more, Princess Maeve included, fled. I felt a pair of arms encircling me, as both Prince Kance and Lord Kalen dragged me up onto the table, out of the rodents’ path.

  And then the floor splintered, and a thin, bony hand reached up from beneath. The figure that pulled itself up through the hole was nothing more than a skeleton with rags that clung to bits of its frame, the always-grinning skull leering up at us. The sight of that and of the other smaller, gleaming skulls scuttling out into the corridor, where more screams and shouts greeted the swarm, were the last things I remembered.

  She paused. Bones creaked in the wind above us.

  “I thought I would be expelled from the Willows for that. To put on another’s hua was reprehensible enough; to attend to important guests pretending to be an asha is even worse. But to release a horde of undead from one of the most popular cha-khana in Ankyo? Other people had been thrown in prison for lesser offenses.”