The Heartforger paid little attention to the approaching army outside, more concerned with the strange lightning-shaped beads he was forging. His calm unnerved me.

“There will be no more lives lost among the Daanorians, Yansheo,” the asha promised the princess. “Not while I breathe.”

“But how? At least two kingdoms stand against us.”

“Trust me. Khalad?”

“A day or two more is all I need.”

“What is he doing?” I asked. “What are these urvan? Who do these souls belong to, and what do you intend to do with them?”

The Heartforger and the bone witch glanced at each other. “I told you how the old Heartforger had an antidote to the sleeping sickness,” the girl said slowly. “This is part of the remedy.”

“But no one is afflicted with the sleeping sickness here.”

The bone witch smiled. “Khalad and I have since found other uses for the antidote. I have learned that when heartforgers are involved, nothing is impossible.”

Lord Khalad shrugged. “No more so than Dark asha. Silver heartsglass cannot be raised from the dead, Tea—yet my cousin stands here with us. I have worked easier miracles.”

“For what use?” I insisted.

“To you, deprived of heartsglass, seeking Blade that Soars’s path,” she quoted. “Take that which came from Five Great Heroes long past and distill it into a heart of silver to shine anew. Khalad remembers every heartsglass he touches and can create copies of their urvan if needed. I wear Hollow Knife’s darksglass, but I shall need lightsglass. I intend to have both before long, to create shadowglass.”

“You intend to become immortal?” I was crushed, betrayed. What good was her hatred for the Faceless when she walked the same path?

The bone witch looked back out the window.

“I intend to die,” she said.