Over a year after I first arrived at the Valerian in Ankyo, nothing about my situation had changed, save that Lady Mykaela’s visits to the asha-ka decreased over time, Mistress Parmina’s petty indignities increased, and I was nearly fourteen. I was still an indentured servant, and the old woman made it clear I was to be that for some time. Lady Mykaela stayed only infrequently at the house, constantly rushing off to different parts of the kingdom. I suspected she was struggling with something important, but she never made mention of her troubles. I was at that time of my life where I felt both overworked and foolish, and I was too caught up in my own misery to inquire further.
The first inkling I had of her situation was a conversation I overheard by accident between her and Mistress Parmina. I was scrubbing furiously at the floors beside the old woman’s room because she was fond of smoking shisha wherever she went. The soot and ashes left in her wake clung stubbornly to the ground, and it took several spongings for the black stains to disappear.
“Sakmeet died last week,” Lady Mykaela said. “She had been ill for a number of months and could not attend to her duties. I had to put down the zarich in her stead. The Deathseekers still hunt for the savul.”
“Losing Sakmeet is a heavy blow,” Mistress Parmina agreed. “The Dark asha’s numbers dwindle daily with little to replenish them. There is only you and the girl left. You are not strong enough to keep up this charade, and I do not like that you have very little time in between to heal.”
“I will be strong enough, Mother.”
“I would much rather you be weak and safe than strong and dead. There are reports that the people of the lie breed in Kion, and so we must be ever watchful. The King of Istera has sent me word; he has rooted out a sect of Faceless in his kingdom. But their leader, Aenah, is missing. His spies tell him that she may be in Ankyo.”
“And what of the other two Faceless leaders?”
“Druj is rumored to be stirring up trouble in the Yadosha city-states; for the moment, he is their problem. Usij has declared war on Daanoris but remains holed up somewhere in their mountains, prepared to defend his stronghold there. I am thankful that none of them harbor much affection for the other; it would be much more difficult to stave them off should they pose a united front. Are you sure about the wretchling?”
“I have faith in her abilities, Mother.”
“I dearly hope so, daraem. I have found her of little use so far: slovenly with the housework, slow to learn, but quite skilled at eavesdropping in matters that do not concern her.” The old woman raised her voice. “I expect the outhouses to be clean by the end of the day, Tea. You’d best start immediately if you expect any dinner tonight.”
I scrambled away as fast as I could, lugging my water bucket behind me. At the very least, I thought sourly, she had learned my name.
“Why can’t you just resurrect her?” I asked Lady Mykaela sometime afterward. “Wouldn’t it solve the problem?”
But the woman shook her head. “You forget, Tea, that Dark asha cannot raise those who share the same silver heartsglass as theirs. Whatever the advantages our abilities give, we cannot enjoy them in death.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Neither is life, girl.”
Already, I was restless. There seemed to be no end in sight as far as my servitude was concerned, and Lady Mykaela’s library, extensive as it was, had no books about asha and Runic magic. Where was the training I was promised, the lessons I would learn to become asha? Sweeping floors and washing dishes may have taught me patience and determination, but unless I could defeat a daeva armed with a mop and bucket, Mistress Parmina was no more teaching me lessons than taking advantage of a free servant.
I wreaked my revenge in a hundred different, albeit petty, ways. Whenever I was sent to buy a box of sweetmeats for Mistress Parmina, I took a piece for myself, and she never knew. On days when she was being particularly nasty, I would wipe the privy with her facecloth. I realize, looking back, how immature I was being, but it was the closest thing I had to rebellion at a time when I felt powerless.
Whenever I was at my lowest, I would pretend that I had a better future. I pictured myself as a powerful asha, slaying daeva and slowly earning the people’s admiration. I imagined I was as Lilac had predicted, with jewels and gowns and a prince by my side, who resembled Prince Kance more and more with each passing day. From there my thoughts often drifted, and I wondered if I would see him again—or if he would even remember me.
Any good days I had were because I had spent them with Fox. He smuggled me small gifts when no one else was looking. Hair ribbons and new clothes Mistress Parmina was quick to notice, and they would have found their way into garbage bins. I was only allowed Lady Mykaela’s crescent pin to wear in my hair, the amethyst ornament I would have rather consigned to the oracle’s flames instead of my blue sapphires. Instead, Fox gave me things I could hide more easily: an occasional book he’d bought at the marketplace or some of my favorite snacks, like sweet, sticky mochi pastries, meat cutlets, and fried bread, to make up for the thin, watery soup, pickled radishes, rice, and runeberry fruit I was fed, offset only by grilled sardines twice a week.
At my suggestion, he gave these to Kana and Farhi as well. Kana received these “can’ts,” as she called them—probably because these were things she wasn’t allowed to have as a servant in the asha-ka—with unfettered joy. Farhi was a little less welcoming, but the bland meals we were given soon wore down her resolve, though she would only accept the gifts if they came from my hand rather than from my brother’s.
I had more chores than either girl, but soon both began pitching in when they could—Kana because she was grateful, and Farhi because she did not want to feel beholden to me. Often, they gave me early warning when Mistress Parmina woke, and we hid in the kitchens before she could find any one of us to scold. Kana giggled and cast shy, admiring glances at Fox when he visited, and I hadn’t the heart to tell her he was already dead. Drychta custom dictated that Farhi couldn’t associate with men who were not family, and so she kept a respectful, if aloof, distance whenever he was around.
I didn’t know how Fox found the money to buy me food and books, but every time I badgered him about it, he refused to answer. He showed up one day with a slight limp, and my suspicions grew. “You’re going to be an asha soon, Tea,” he reminded me, “and that means you’re expected to be truthful, so it would be for the best if you didn’t know. I am not involved in anything illegal, if that eases your mind.”
“If you aren’t a part of anything illegal, then why won’t you tell me?” I demanded. “And isn’t this hypocritical of you to say that I be truthful when you’ve been smuggling foodstuffs to me for the better part of three months?”
“Technically not illegal,” he amended. “And I said you had to be truthful, not starving.” He never did answer my question.
One spring evening, when the leaves turned as green as the fresh morning dew, I sat on the small veranda, watching the night sky. Mistress Parmina had just recently added one more chore to my already-busy schedule. Kana and Farhi took turns waiting up for Lady Shadi to return to the asha-ka after her functions, and the old woman had decreed that I share in this duty.
Oftentimes, the asha-in-training would return late, arriving only a few hours before dawn broke. We were responsible for letting her in and storing away the things she had brought with her to entertain, like her setar or her tonbak, two musical instruments she was particularly skilled at. Lady Shadi was still an apprentice, but she went to many functions like most regular asha in preparation for her upcoming debut. She had a sweet, finespun disposition and was a favorite among the guests. Mistress Parmina was very pleased with her progress.
The air was crisp and cool, and I must have dozed off for several minutes before I became aware of a knocking at our door. Thinking that Lady Shadi had come home earlier than expected, I stumbled to my feet, drawing back the bolt securing the door in place and tugging it open.
I didn’t recognize the pretty girl standing before me, but I did recognize the simple brown robe she wore. Asha-ka were not the only buildings in the Willows. There were many shops there that catered specifically to them, such as the ateliers, the schools of the arts, and the apothecaries. Asha-ka were found nearer to the oracle’s temple, while these shops were located closer to the entrances leading into the Willows. Some of them were the cha-khana, the “tea places,” small teahouses where asha entertained their patrons. Women who served in the cha-khana wore brown robes much like the one the girl wore.
“Is this the Valerian?” she asked.
“That’s what the sign on the walls say,” I said, grumpy from being woken so suddenly. “What is it?”
“Are you Miss Tea? The one with that brother named Fox?”
My drowsiness disappeared. Save for the people living in the Valerian, I hadn’t expected anyone else to know my name. “Who told you about me?” I blurted out, forgetting to be polite. I rarely talked to servants from the other houses, for we were often scolded when caught gossiping instead of working. I didn’t know what punishment the others were given, but Mistress Parmina’s was to withhold my twice-a-week grilled fish, and I was determined not to lose what little flavor I was afforded in my meals, Fox’s smuggled treats notwithstanding. Lady Mykaela wasn’t the kind of person to gossip, but I didn’t think Lady Shadi was the type either. Kana was my best guess.
The girl only shrugged. She stank of magic and beauty. I guess even cha-khana assistants had their vanities. “Please bring a change of clothes for Lady Shadi—and her setar. And you’d better get to it too, or she’ll be mad as hops!”
The Falling Leaf was one of the more well-known teahouses in the district, and it was not uncommon for some of their staff to call on houses. Asha normally visited two or three cha-khana a night, sometimes more if she was popular. Occasionally they would send word to their asha-ka and ask for a fresh set of hua or an instrument they could play if their guests wanted a performance. Asha usually select what to wear based on how appropriate the design is for the season and often laid them out in their rooms before heading out in case a change of clothes was required in the course of the night. I had gone on similar errands in the past. But no one from any of the tearooms had ever called for me by name before.
Because it was springtime, Lady Shadi had left for the night wearing a beautiful olive-green hua with doves embroidered along her voluminous sleeves and a waist wrap of deep plum with silver-stitched outlines of chrysanthemums. The hua she had laid out before leaving was golden in color, with white puffs of dandelions billowing out along its edges, paired with a light-gray waist wrap with turquoise leaves. Her setar lay across her bed, slightly worn and scuffed from age and constant use. I wrapped both up carefully with delicate paper and followed the girl outside.
Like most tearooms, the Falling Leaf looks deceptively simple from the outside. One entered it by walking up through a domed doorway, with a large folding screen made of carved wood and embossed in intricate metal designs preventing anyone from looking in on the festivities within. Past this screen lay a large garden common in every cha-khana in Ankyo. Fishes swam in small ponds, with trellises serving as shade. A large fountain statue in the likeness of the Great Hero Anahita stood at the center, water flowing down a jar she was pouring into one of the many streams below. A series of rooms on a raised platform surrounded this garden, separated by wooden dividers and drawing screens, ensuring that anyone who might want to leave the party for a few minutes to wander among the trees and flowers can do so easily and with all the privacy they desired.
The girl bade me to wait at the entrance but was back in less than a minute, gesturing for me to follow. Soft strains of laughter reached our ears as we approached one of the rooms. The girl tapped lightly against the screen, and it was pulled back almost immediately. A moon-faced asha stared back at us before turning back and announcing to the party inside, “The bone witchling is here!”
A long, slim hand shot out and grabbed me by the sleeve, tugging me into the room before the door slammed shut before the startled attendant’s face.
There were no guests inside, only asha. They circled me, giggling, and their silver heartsglass glinted in the candlelight. I sat on the floor, confused and suddenly dizzy, still hugging Lady Shadi’s clothes and setar to my chest.
“Why, she’s smaller than I expected!” said the asha who’d dragged me inside. She was easily one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen, with flowing, brown hair artfully arranged in complicated coils at the nape of her neck. Strands of multicolored gemstones hung from her hair and dangled on either side of her face, accentuating her light-brown skin. Her hua was a buttercup yellow, with blue-tinged butterflies fluttering at her lengthy sleeves. “I thought Dark asha would be more imposing, like Mykaela of the Hollows or like the Pincher.”
The rest of the girls collapsed into laughter. “If Lady Parmina hears you call her that, Zoya, she would have your hide!” one of them proclaimed. She wore a gray veil covering her head and chest and a salmon-colored hua of a wisteria design.
“Then let her, Tami,” Zoya retorted. “I’m not afraid of an old crone who spends her days picking her nose more often than she picks hua!” The laughter grew in volume because that was, in fact, one of Mistress Parmina’s unfortunate habits.
“Where is Lady Shadi?” I asked, my voice quavering, trying to quell the pounding on the side of my head.
“If Lady Shadi were here, then that would take the fun out of everything, wouldn’t it?” Zoya’s blue eyes were bright with glee, “but she did happen to mention that your name was Tea. How unusual! Shadi must be feeling so left out, being the only asha in a sea of darklings!”
I turned toward the door, but a couple of asha blocked my exit.
“You came here to explore the cha-khana, didn’t you? It would be a shame to let you leave so early,” said another asha. Her long braids were coiled around her head, and the long pins in her hair made tinkling sounds every time she moved.
“Don’t worry, Brijette. The fun’s only beginning. Open the package! Let’s see what’s inside!” Zoya’s fingers danced, and I saw the telltale glow of an unfamiliar rune in the air before the hua I carried was snatched out of my hands, floating toward her. Another flick of her hand, and the setar followed, one of the other asha catching it in midair.
“Why, look! It’s Shadi’s! Naughty little servling!”
“Hurry!” Tami urged. “The boys are waiting!”
The girls converged on me, and any screams I made were cut off as the Wind rune’s spells wove themselves around the room, preventing anyone outside from hearing me. I remembered a tangle of arms and faces, felt myself being physically disrobed and forced to lie on the floor while the asha began to dress me in Lady Shadi’s hua.
“Let’s see how she looks!”
I was tugged back into a sitting position, my head spinning. Zoya assessed me carefully. “I suppose she will do nicely, given such short notice to prepare. Place the setar on her lap, Brijette.”
The girl with the braids complied.
Zoya pursed her lips. “Something’s missing.” She reached down and plucked the crescent amethyst clasp from my hair. “Sveta, lend me your opal pin.”
A yellow-haired asha lifted her hand up to her hair in horror. “Why take mine? Take one of Tami’s. She’s got more than any of us here.”
“Hand it over, Sveta.”
Grumbling, Sveta took the exquisite, purple-jeweled pin from her hair and tossed it at the other girl.
Zoya gathered up one side of my hair and pushed the pin through it. I winced when the sharp point jabbed at my scalp. “There you go. She looks rather like an impoverished asha with only two zivars to her name”—she poked at my crescent pin with disdain—“but with this she can pass as one of us, if barely! We’re giving you a promotion, little Tea. Imagine—from lowly maid to full-fledged asha in the space of an hour!”
The others found this especially funny.
“What do you want?” Now that I was sure they had no real intentions of harming me, I was growing angrier by the second despite the strange buzzing in my head. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Consider this a small life lesson. Your Lady Shadi took the role I wanted in the darashi oyun, and I’ve been meaning to find some way to return the favor.” She smiled at me. “I didn’t ask you to come here, little girl. But you played the truant, so you’re in trouble anyway, regardless of what you do. You’d best play along to make things easier on your house. You’re wearing Lady Shadi’s hua, and you have her setar. I’m sure you know what that means.”
I froze. She was right. I may not be an asha yet, but Lady Shadi and I were members of House Valerian. Everything I did in her clothes would be done in her name, on Mistress Parmina and Lady Mykaela’s names, and on the Valerian’s name, and it did not matter one whit that I had been forced into it.
“I have to go,” I burst out, struggling, but more hands held me in place. My headache refused to go away, and I wasn’t even sure I could stand on my own even if I had wanted to.
“And how can I let you leave,” the pretty asha said, “after you’ve stolen my good friend Shadi’s hua and her favorite instrument? I ought to alert the mistress of the Falling Leaf and have you thrown out in full view of all the other paying guests.”
I knew what she was telling me. If I tried to leave, she would make sure that the Valerian’s reputation would suffer. And while I didn’t care about how Mistress Parmina would react, the last thing I wanted to do was disappoint Lady Mykaela.
“That’s better.” Zoya grinned when I relaxed. “Don’t worry. Keep a smile on your face and do everything I instruct you to, and you’ll be free to leave once the party is over.”
The party? But the other girls were already forcing me to my feet, and I was still too dazed to put up much of a struggle.
They led me across the garden to another room, where the murmur of voices within told me that guests were already in attendance. Grinning, the braided asha named Brijette drew the door open.
And I found myself staring into the eyes of Prince Kance.