A small cave lay tucked against the base of the mountain, barely noticeable amid the sleet and snow. The half-hour journey to reach the entrance did little to improve Kalen’s mood. “At least let me go with you,” he rasped in my ear.
“Agnarr promised that my life wouldn’t be in danger, Kalen. They’re a very peaceful people, and I don’t think they would stand for bloodshed, custom or not.”
“Just because none of the other Dark asha have ever been injured doesn’t mean it’s impossible. How many Dark asha have entered here throughout the years?”
“Forty-eight over the centuries,” said a helpful Gorvekai woman. Lady Solveiga, I remembered.
“That’s not an impressive statistic.”
“Many Gorvekai travel the kingdoms, searching for suitable candidates. These are forty-eight Dark asha over thousands we have assessed and ultimately rejected long before they knew of any trials.”
“And what of me?” I asked. “Would I have been rejected, if I hadn’t come?”
The woman shrugged. In many ways, she reminded me of Zoya. “You’re here now, aren’t you? The point appears to be moot.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Kalen repeated for the eleventh time that day.
I grinned and kissed him. “You’re just mad you have to stay out here in the cold while I’ll be warm and cozy inside. Trust me. If this is what I have to do, then this is what I’ll do.”
“Are you sure, Tea? Are you sure the only reason you want to find out if you’re capable of shadowglass is so you can keep it away from the elders?”
I hesitated and sighed. “What if I succeed?”
Kalen shook his head. “I trust you, but that is dangerous. There’s no telling how the magic could change you.”
“I know. But if there’s a chance I could change the world, why not bring Fox back for good and then rid the world of magic? I could bring back Polaire and Daisy while I’m at it! It would solve so many of our problems—”
“That’s not how that works,” Solveiga said, unabashedly eavesdropping. “You only choose one or the other.”
I glared at her. “Then why not change the magic to ensure it will no longer be misused?”
“That’s more complicated than you make it sound,” Kalen pointed out.
“Look, I don’t know if I’m capable yet, right? I’ll make no promises. We need options; we don’t have very many left.”
Kalen growled. “If you run into any trouble in there, don’t hesitate to shout. Summon some dead corpses. Call on the azi. Cause enough ruckus for me to hear.”
“I will not call the azi this close to Stranger’s Peak unless you want a firsthand view of an avalanche.” I kissed him again and turned to face the entrance. The snow had lightened, and I could make out some small torches burning inside. At least I wouldn’t be in total darkness. “I’m ready, Lord Agnarr.”
The Gorvekai stepped aside, forming a short line on either side of me as I walked toward the entrance, their features solemn. Despite Agnarr’s reassurances, I felt like I was about to head into danger, and that feeling lingered.
Inside it was cold, but at least there was none of the swirling snow. I gingerly felt my way through the narrow corridor, the torches lighting my path for another mile or so, until I reached the final burning wick. Up ahead, darkness stared back.
I took the torch from its makeshift holder—only for the fire to go out without warning. I whirled around in time to see the rest of the torches flicker out one after the other, until there was complete darkness.
“Seven hells.” I could turn and go out the way I came in, or I could forge ahead. Despite what I’d told Kalen, I reached for the azi, but found no consciousness other than my own. It felt like the mountain was one giant, runic ward, more complete and thorough than any I’d encountered before, and it prevented all kinds of magic, powerful and small.
I trudged on, with one hand on the wall to keep my balance. My eyes gradually adjusted; another fifth of a mile out, I found myself facing three forks in the path, all leading into further darkness.
Agnarr had never mentioned this. I paused, indecisive, until my eyes fell on three small, headstone-like markers growing before the diverging paths like stalagmites, weathered and eroding. Words glowed on each: Duty on the leftmost stone, Honor on the right, and Love at the center.
I had no idea what the stones meant and decided it would make no difference whichever one I picked. I made for the left passageway, cautiously passing the stone. I took several steps before finding myself blinking against a sudden glare, back in the Valerian asha-ka in Kion.
Confused, I looked around, but the cave had disappeared. Instead, there was Polaire, carrying a fan in one hand and splaying the other at her hip, smiling coldly at me. I shrank back in fear, the shock of seeing her alive making my knees buckle.
“You want to cast shadowglass, child?” Her voice was brittle, mocking. “Do you think to cast the spell and that will be all there is to it, Tea? Foolish girl. You have always been foolish. It’s why Parmina rejected you all those years ago, when you first came to the Willows to make your mark as an asha, none of us knowing you would do so with soot and ash. You have always been blind to consequences. That’s how you killed me.”
I shook. “Who are you?”
My sister-asha grinned. “I am the truth, you stupid chit. Always have been. You traveled here to see me judge you worthy of shadowglass. I’m here to tell you that you won’t be. Have a look.”
She stepped out of the Valerian. I followed—and stopped.
Kion was in flames. I could hear the screams of those trapped within buildings, heard the wood collapsing under the weight of fires. I saw bodies in the streets, and smoke sending soot into the blackened sky. I saw friends, lifeless, with unseeing eyes and outstretched arms. Beyond the destruction, I could make out the shape of the azi as it flew overhead, breathing death down into the city. Frantic, I reached out to the daeva but could not connect with its mind.
This is a nightmare, I told myself. I reached for a burning piece of wood without thinking and then cried out in pain, dropping it. The pain was intense and all too real.
“This is what happens when you take shadowglass,” Polaire said. “This is what happens when you fancy yourself worthy of a god’s heart. You will bring about Kion’s destruction. You will wreck the lives of everyone you have ever loved, and you will doom them to hardship until the end of their days. We of the shadow can pass no falsehood through this mountain, and you know in your heart that this is your fate.
“Your duty to the lands outweighs your duty to those you call friends, those you call allies. The world must burn in order to heal. Do you still find yourself worthy, Tea of the Embers? Do you still accept this responsibility?”
I knew then that she told the truth. Already I had ruined lives. Already I had imagined Kion burning. “Yes,” I choked out, still weeping and cradling my burnt hand.
Polaire vanished, and the rest of Kion with her. I stood inside the dark cave once more, but this time only two paths remained open to me, their passages yawning into night. But my wound remained, and I had to bite my lip against the throbbing pain.
Now Honor lay to the left, with Love on the right.
Trembling, I stepped into the left passageway once more. There was another spark of light, so blinding I had to cover my eyes with my uninjured hand.
“It is time.”
I gasped. King Kance stood before me, his hand held out for me, smiling gently.
“Kance? Your Majesty?” I took his hand. He was warm, solid, and reassuring. “What are you—?”
He tucked my arm underneath his. “They’re waiting for us, Lady Tea. Let’s not be late.”
“Waiting for what?”
“For your execution, Tea.” Kance’s smile was soft, but it held an edge of malice. “Or have you forgotten? All the spells in the world cannot make up for your sins. Surely you didn’t think you would be allowed to live after everything you’ve done? You killed Polaire. You ruined my father. Everything you touch bleeds sorrow and misery.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“Intention amounts to nothing in this place.”
He pushed open a door that had not been there before, and we stood before the gardens of the Odalian palace. A scaffold had been set up at its center, surrounded by a cheering crowd. On the platform stood a hooded executioner. The ax in his hands gleamed in the sunlight, though the blade’s edge was already dark with blood.
I took a step back, but Kance’s grip was steel, forcing me forward. The cheers turned to jeering as he ushered me up the wooden steps. Desperate, I glanced around, searching for a friendly face, for someone to protest and fight for me, but I saw only contempt and accusation.
“You should know by now that everything has a price, Tea. Contrite as you are, you still caused Daisy’s death. You still caused the blight. Imagine the countless lives we could save after you are gone. Now, kneel. No blindfold, I think. You deserve to die with your eyes open, seeing true justice done.”
“Wait,” I choked. “If I die, then Fox—Fox will—”
“You have no need to worry.” Kance pointed, and I saw a lifeless body nearby, matted with blood and grime.
I screamed, bolting out of his grip to reach for Fox, though there was nothing I could do to save him. “Oh, he’ll be all right,” Kance chuckled, hauling me back roughly. “He was dead to start with. But he’ll need a better body than the one you gave him.”
My knees buckled. Gently, as if he were an attentive lover, Kance guided my head onto the chopping block.
“Honor must be answered for, dearest Tea. Honor outweighs your reputation. Already you are called a villain, and for good reason—you have brought chaos into my kingdom with your petty desires, and you must answer for your crimes.”
He lifted my hair and pushed it to the side, exposing the back of my neck to the blade. I could feel the edge of the ax, sharp and ready, as it came to rest against my skin. “Do you still find yourself worthy, Tea of the Embers?” Kance asked, his tone cruel. “Do you still accept?”
I closed my eyes, tears leaking onto the block. “Yes,” I sobbed. I deserved to die, didn’t I? Daisy, Telemaine, Polaire, Fox—
The ax fell with a whoosh, and I found myself on my knees on the cave’s cold stone floor, my body heaving with sobs. “No more,” I cried. “No more!”
But there was one more path to take.
I fled, running away from that terrible stone and the horrors that lay beyond it. Except I found myself turned and standing before the marker. I tried to escape again, only to return to the place I was desperate to avoid. I would be running within this mountain until I faced its trial.
“No more,” I wept, though there was no choice before me.
This time, no one greeted me. A long, winding corridor took the place of the cavern, which had transformed into the oracle’s temple. I followed the path quickly, wanting the experience to be over with, afraid of what I might find.
“No.” He lay before the brazier with his eyes closed. A sword had been driven through his chest, and a puddle of blood had formed underneath him. His hair and his clothes were stained in its red.
“No!” I broke into a run, sobbing and screaming so loudly it was a wonder the walls didn’t shake. I drew the blade out of him, pressed my hands over the horrible wound, and push down, willing his chest to rise, his heart to beat. “No!”
I would have gladly endured all the terrors I had witnessed in this mountain again to be spared this sight. Kalen was clearly dead. A thin, crimson line ran down the side of his mouth. Irrationally, I drew the rune of Raising, willed all my energy into his body, taking in so much of the Dark that my vision blurred and the air crackled. “Don’t die!” I howled at him. “Please don’t die! You can’t!”
“It was inevitable. Everything you touch decomposes,” a familiar voice murmured, sounding almost amused. I didn’t look up, only continued to cry as Fox slowly crouched beside me, looking at Kalen’s body with cold detachedness. “Take it from me, dearest Sister. Dying isn’t all the fuss it’s made out to be.”
“I have to bring him back,” I wept.
“You can’t. Silver heartsglass, remember? Tricky stuff. Wield all the magic you want in your first life, but you don’t get a chance at a second. Fair trade, I’d say.” Fox picked up the sword that had stabbed Kalen and eyed it critically. “No different than the one that got me. A sword or a savul’s claw—as long as it gets the job done, what difference does it make if it is human or daeva? That doesn’t make you a different kind of dead. Now, Kalen—that’s a shame. He was devoted to you. Even now, I reckon he’d die saving your life.”
“I have to bring him back!”
“You can’t break the rules simply because you want to. More often than not, the rules wind up breaking you. You’re gonna save the world, Tea. But you’ll return to Kion to mourn on graves. Kalen’s gonna have to pay the price for your impulses.”
“I don’t want to save the world!”
“If you don’t save it, then everyone dies anyway. Then what difference will that make?” My brother grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. “Love requires sacrifice, Tea. If it’s real love, then it will hurt. You’ll need to give him up. He’s a distraction and a weakness, and you can’t have more of those. Don’t you remember? Love is what got you into this mess, Sister. Love is the reason you raised me from the dead, and we’ve both been paying for that ever since—and all because you couldn’t let me go. Do you still find yourself worthy, Tea of the Embers? Do you still accept?”
I screamed, and this time the walls shuddered and collapsed. Rocks toppled toward us, Kalen and Fox and me. I closed my eyes. Briefly, in that expanse between fainting and waking, I saw a vision: Kance on a white horse, his army charging into an unending tide of Drychta—transformed, blighted Drychta.
When I opened my eyes again, I was sitting by the cave’s entrance, my teeth chattering. Kalen—alive and breathing—was by my side. He hastily pulled the hood from my head, his worried, brown eyes staring into mine. Khalad put his hand on my shoulder, scanning my heartsglass and breathing a loud sigh. “She’s scared and a little confused, and there’s a burn on her hand, but there’s nothing else wrong with her.”
“Tea?” Kalen asked hesitantly, gently nudging my face toward his. “Are you all right? You stumbled out of the mountain and fell. You’re crying… What happened in there?”
I hugged him tightly, my tears wet against his cheek. “I couldn’t accept.” I touched his jaw, his nose, his hair, every inch of him that my numbed hands could reach. “I failed, and I am so, so glad I did.”