6

“And to what do I owe this honor?” Aenah drawled. “Two visits in two days! What a wonderful surpri—”

The rest of her words were cut off as she sagged back against the wall, coughing uncontrollably, her hands clutching at her throat. I hated being in her head, even when forcing her to do as I wanted. But I had all of the anger and none of the patience, and this was the fastest way to find my answers.

“Tea!” Fox had never followed me inside the cell before. Khalad was close on my brother’s heels, looking nervous.

“How did you know?” I nearly snarled.

“How did I know what?” Aenah gasped, struggling for breath.

“Quite ominous circumstances for a betrothal, I’d think.” I echoed her words from my last visit. “How did you know about the prince’s engagement to the Kion princess?” I ignored Fox’s startle of surprise. The thought that someone within the prince’s inner circle worked for this Faceless scum was terrifying enough. “Who are your spies? Tell me!”

The woman laughed weakly. “You have nothing to fear, Tea. I compel no one from the Odalian nobility. I simply found a flaw in your wards.”

I applied more pressure—not enough to rob her of speech but enough for her to realize I was willing to do worse. “This room is warded with enough magic to stop a daeva!”

Aenah smiled. “You exaggerate. The magic here is impressive, that is true. It prevents me from escaping. The wards can cloud your bond with your brave older brother here and, to a lesser extent, with the azi you share your innermost thoughts with.”

“What?” Fox exclaimed, but I refused to let go.

“Are you saying you can overcome these wards?”

“Not in the way you believe.” She tapped her forehead. “When you were but an asha apprentice, I was foolish enough to think I could compel you. I could plant suggestions in your mind and you would believe them as your own. All that changed, however, when the azi chose you. And now it is I who, embarrassingly enough, must dance to your tune.”

“That’s not an answer,” I said, seething.

“It is called a Scrying rune.”

“There is no such thing as a Scrying rune.”

“Do you require a demonstration?” Aenah closed her eyes, and a strange rune flickered across my mind, one I had never seen before.

Fox tensed, ready and watchful.

The Compulsion rune flared brighter as I plunged into her head, commanding her to remain still, to do nothing. And yet I could sense her thoughts drifting where I could not reach.

“There is a guard stationed outside my door named Garveth. His wife is nine months with child and due for labor any day. But he worries his duties at his post prevent him from being with her should her water break.”

Fox left the room before she had even finished her thought.

“He must be a joy to have around,” Aenah said cheerfully. “Aren’t you glad you could spend more time with your brother than fate originally intended?”

I tightened her hold, and her smug grin vanished. “Explain yourself.”

“I imagine it would be a difficult to teach you the Scrying rune in this small cell, all the wards being what they are. Perhaps a small compensation for my assistance—a larger room, perhaps an actual bed—”

“No.”

“You wanted a memory. Why not ask the young Heartforger to extract it now from my mind? He can see for himself that I do not lie.”

I glanced at Khalad, who nodded. “If this is another trick…” I warned.

Khalad laid a finger against the Faceless woman’s heartsglass. His eyes widened, and his hand trembled.

“Don’t be shy,” Aenah cooed. “Do not let my unusual memories color your judgment of me.”

With a violent jerk, Khalad stepped back. Violet-hued smoke clung to his fingers. “I got it,” he said hoarsely.

“Are you all right, Khalad?”

“Yes. It’s just…her mind…”

“I should have warned you,” the Faceless said cheerfully. “I have quite the checkered past.”

“She’s telling the truth.” Khalad placed the purple smoke inside a glass vial. “But scrying is the extent of what she can do.”

Fox returned, scowling. “The guard’s name is Garveth. It’s true, every word she says. Damn her. He swore he never talked to her, much less entered this room.”

“He could be lying,” I insisted.

“I can give you more examples if you wish,” Aenah offered. “The prince was here. I brushed against a royal mind some days ago. He worried that his sheltered upbringing prevents him from ruling Odalia. He wished to see more of the land beyond its borders, to allow him a better understanding of his people. Incidentally, it was in his mind where I first gleaned knowledge of his impending engagement—”

I increased my hold on her, and her eyes rolled back in her head, her body twisting in agony as the grip tightened.

“Tea!” Fox’s arms circled me, shaking me out of my rage. “Tea, stop it!”

I let go. Aenah collapsed. Only the manacles chained to her wrists kept her upright, and those just barely. Her head drooped. I thought she had lost consciousness until she made a soft wheeze.

“I must…congratulate you…Tea. You have only…gotten stronger in…the year since…”

“Whatever possessed you, Tea?” Fox was furious and rightfully so. I didn’t answer, focusing on reining in my anger, aware that I could not lose control of myself like that again.

Aenah lifted her head. A tiny smile hovered on her lips. “Very well. I swear to never enter your beloved prince’s mind again. I swear it on my daughter’s grave. But I have been very forthcoming today. I only have one boon to ask of you in return.”

“No.”

“It’s only a book, Tea, passed down to those like me for centuries. Many have killed for it, yet I give it to you freely and ask you to protect it.”

“And what book is this?”

“A book of hidden runes, Lady Tea. Hidden runes wielded by Dark spellbinders, lost over time—deliberately—by the asha, to prevent Dark witches like us from rising too high. I learned of the Scrying rune there and of many others. Your own elder asha possess a copy.”

“You lie.”

“It’s all about control, my dear Tea. They only teach you the necessary runes to put down daeva and risk your life for their cause. Why would they teach you the very runes that would allow you to rise above them?”

“Then why are you giving this to me?” I asked.

“Because I have not given up on you.” Now recovered, she leaned back against the wall and stretched. “Your anger is promising, my bone witch. We have need of your fury. Once you have decided to take my claims seriously—about the effectiveness of these runes and about your asha elders’ treachery—then come back to me, and I will tell you everything.”

“I need none of your help.”

“Ah, but this knowledge will eat at you. We have shared minds, Tea. I know a little more about you than others do. I know of your hunger for strange books and stranger learnings. I know you worry constantly over Mykaela’s fate, your concern that one day the azi that lodges in your mind might overwhelm you—that your mind will be corrupted and overwhelmed by the darkrot that your elders frighten you with.

“There are many spells in my book that hold the answers to your troubles. Once you acquire such tastes for power and appreciate its sweetness, you shall stop playing asha and come to us, the Faceless, where your skills will be put to better use.”

“Never,” I spat.

“Never is such a long time to promise, Tea. We live too short of lives to consign ourselves to an eternity you may regret. And it is not terrible to have a black heartsglass. We are stronger with it, more steeped in the Dark, less vulnerable to darkrot. Ah, but the elders will not allow you to think that.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Black heartsglass will never be taken from you the way Mykaela’s heartsglass was taken from her. Black heartsglass will always return to you regardless of anyone’s control, whether you wish it to or not. Is that not temptation enough to take my book?”

“The process makes it less than appealing.”

She laughed. “A little corruption is good for the soul, Tea. The book I speak of lies within the Odalian cemetery. Where lies poor forgotten Millicent Tread of Istera, there you shall find your true calling.”

I said nothing and headed for the door.

“Until we meet again,” Aenah called after us before the heavy metal doors slid shut.

“Tell the commander that Garveth is to have time off until his wife gives birth,” I instructed one of the passing soldiers. “And I want all guards keeping watch over this cell, standing at least twenty feet away. No one but the Deathseeker who delivers her meals may approach.” I knew it would probably be ineffective, but I had to do something.

“What did she mean about an azi lodged in your mind?” Fox demanded as we left the prison. “You killed it two years ago, didn’t you? Has it been resurrected?”

I swallowed. “No. I never killed it.”

“This sounds like a private conversation between you two,” Khalad said nervously from behind us. “I should be going.”

“Stay, Khalad,” Fox commanded. “You’ve been taking memories from Tea all this time. Did you not know about this?”

The forger swallowed. “Well…”

Fox gaped at him. “You knew?”

“It’s part of our oath as Heartforgers—memories are no one else’s business but their owner’s.”

“It didn’t want to fight!” I protested. “The azi was under Aenah’s influence. It fought her as much as I did. But now I’m in its mind and it’s in mine, and I know it meant no harm.”

“Break your bond with it, Tea! It’s too dangerous!”

“I don’t know how even if I wanted to. But it knows I’m not the threat Aenah was. It’s made no move to attack since I took control.”

Slowly, Fox shook his head. “That doesn’t make it harmless.”

“Harmless or not, it hasn’t done anything to me. There’s something about this bond that makes us aware of each other’s presence. And…and it gives me control of it when I ask.”

“Tea!”

“What do you expect me to do, Fox? Tell the asha elders? Khalad, tell him what would happen if I did.”

Khalad swallowed. “You’d be locked up just like Aenah. You’d be considered a source of danger to everyone, and neither Mykaela nor even Altaecia has that much authority to protect you.”

“Tea, don’t you think Mykaela ought to know at least?” my brother persisted, though much of his irritation was gone, knowing Khalad had spoken the truth.

“She won’t know how to break the bond any more than I do. At this point, I know more about handling daeva than she does. And as for the others…” Telling Mykaela meant telling Polaire, and after my blowup at Polaire the other day, telling her would be tantamount to telling the association. “That I’m a bone witch makes it worse. There’ll be people crying for my head soon enough. King Telemaine and Prince Kance could even be accused of conspiring with me. I won’t let that happen.”

“I really should be going,” Khalad said nervously, backing away. “I really should put this memory in a safer place.”

“Khalad, come back here. I’m not done with—ah, hells. He’s gone.” Fox turned back to me. “I’m not ‘other people,’ Tea. I’m your brother. You should have told me.”

“I know about your dislike for daeva, Fox. I knew you wouldn’t approve.”

“Not approving doesn’t mean I’m not going to stick by you. Your problems are my own.” He paused. “At least that explains the disorienting sensations I get from you sometimes.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try my best not to keep anything from you again,” I said, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

“I like how you say ‘try,’ like you would do it again if you thought it would spare me the trouble.” My brother sighed. “I guess we have no choice then.”

“No choice in what?”

“We have no choice but to find that blasted book that harpy’s been yapping about. If there is guarded magic in it that might break your bond, that warrants a look.”