The Shadow Glass

Lord Fox's features grew anguished. They all still grieve the loss of the beautiful Asha. Kismet fell dead when she died. It was how Mistress Parmena knew what had happened to Michaela before the rest of us learned the news. Tia resurrected Mickey's horse, yoked it to herself. He closed his eyes and pressed his head against Kismet's. The horse knickered and snorted, showing no signs of its previous death. Fox, Princess Inessa's arms circled his waist. She leaned her head lightly against his back. Her voice soft, she said, we're going to find Tia, and we're going to save her. Let us talk to my mother and the rest of the Asha, and to Kantz as well. There's always a way. Lord Fox took one of her hands, then bent to kiss the inside of her wrist. I didn't die when I lost contact with Tia. But I spend every day expecting it to be my last. I can't go on like this, Inessa. I can't be alive and dead all at once. He shifted so that he was holding her, hands light and familiar against her hips. She intends to save me. She knows a spell to bring me back to life, so that my heart beats as real as yours. But she requires the first harvest, the same ingredient she needs for shadow glass, and she'll sacrifice herself and anyone else to find it. His anger now flared. Tia's changed. Sometimes I'm afraid I no longer recognize my sister. Then read what she left behind for you, Princess Inessa suggested gently. It may offer an explanation of her motivations, though her words will not change what's been done. Lord Fox looked at the princess, and I saw the similarities he shared with the Bone Witch. The brother and sister had the same dark eyes, the same stubborn chin, and Fox gave Princess Inessa the same expression as when Tia looked at Lord Cailan. I'm afraid, he said, unashamed. I am not, the princess smiled. You wanted to know why Tia left Kion. Kion, you've carried the answer for nearly a week now. You cannot chase after her, yet hide from her own words. Still, the man made no move to retrieve the letters. She is weaker, I interjected, and his attention swung back to me. Every time she uses her runes, it drains her. She told me once that dark's glass was not meant to last for very long. Lord Fox took out the thick sheaf of papers and stared at them. He looked tired and worn. His love for his sister has aged him, I realized, even if time had not. Finally, he inhaled a long, shuddering breath. He handed the letters to me. You were there when she began telling her story. Tell me how she ends it. I accepted. My fingers touched the soft parchment, noting the faint smears in her otherwise elegant writing. With my practiced eyes, I knew these stains were not caused by faulty ink, but rather tears. Above us, the pomegranate-colored sky gave way to darker clouds, suggesting only a few hours of brief portentous respite before the storm. One. I have always known darkness. It has been my friend. Yet it has also been my enemy. Some days, it is a mist over my eyes, leaving me blind to what should be obvious. But some days, I wipe away that fog and see more clearly in its aftermath than I ever have before it. The darkness was inside me, I think, long before I raised my brother from the dead. My silver heart's glass merely gave it a mouth, made the darkness realize that it too can hunger. This is not Fox's fault. This is not Lady Mikayla's fault. I have told the bard much of my story, all but its end. Once we leave Donoris, it will be far too dangerous for him to travel with Callan and me, and so I write the rest of it now, with the clarity it deserves. I write while the fog is lifted, while I can see. I am sorry about many things, but I am not sorry about this. I start with a happy memory. There are so few nowadays. As I write, Callan patrols the city with my Ozzie, and Callan is hard at work with-