And that was why I sat at the center of a very long table, staring down at a roasted hog with a caramelized apple in its mouth. Yadoshan parties were as grand and as outlandish as their hunts. While their gatherings in Kion were tame out of respect for the Willows’ policies and general dislike of loud noises, the Thanh celebration was a citywide affair, spilling out of the council house and finding lodgings in the endless number of taverns and inns surrounding it. While the more influential nobles and ministers dominated the great hall we stayed at, the locals conducted their own festivities with lesser frills and more beer.

“This is ridiculous,” I complained once the First Minister was out of earshot. “There’s no point to all this. They deliberately went out of their way to get themselves hurt or worse, and now they’re celebrating the fact that they survived?”

“Sometimes people do things because they want to, and not because they make sense.” Khalad took a small sip of his ale and gingerly placed it back on the table. “It’s not like you’ve never met Yadoshans.”

I snorted. “I’ve never been responsible for their lives before.”

Kalen chuckled, mellower than I’d expected. “One of the few rules for the hunt requires participants to take sole responsibility for their actions should they die underfoot. It’s the only way they can claim a hero’s burial. You may have to endure this every several years whenever the nanghait wakes, but I don’t think the Yadoshans would oppose our staying here as normal citizens. Their policy is to never get themselves involved in southern kingdom politics—staying neutral is good for trade. Hunting the nanghait might actually put them in your debt.”

“That’s not exactly the best way to start a life incognito.” Kalen was serious about leaving Kion for good, but I still wasn’t sure what my own thoughts were on that the subject. I couldn’t let Mykaela shoulder all the duties of a Dark asha alone.

I looked around at the throngs of men and women talking and laughing and noisily chugging down dark butter ale like tonight was their last night on earth. “Maybe Yadosha isn’t the best place to settle. Maybe we should live in the frozen tundra with the Gorvekai instead.”

“But you’re seriously considering my proposal?”

“Would you expect me to let other daeva roam free? Even if Mykaela could no longer put them down herself?”

“Mykaela has her heartsglass back. And she can train someone else in your stead.”

“Then it’ll never end, will it? Endless cycles of Dark asha dying too early, teaching new apprentices the craft, so they can die too early too.”

Kalen sighed. “I don’t want you to die early either. But Mykaela has never once complained about her fate. You can’t decide how she lives her life.”