The Elder Stones Saga Boxset: Books 1-3

by D. K. Holmberg

  That was what scared her the most. Despite everything that had happened, she had not been in control at all. She wanted to ensure that she did have that control, that she was not used like that again, but she didn’t know if there was any way to do so.

  Eventually, the door opened, and Carth emerged again. She held something tucked under her arm, and Lucy attempted to Read her, trying to see what Carth might be carrying out, but it felt as if her attempt slipped across the other woman’s mind. It was a strange sensation, as though she glided past, unable to reach her mind.

  “Did you find what you came for?”

  “The C’than are still safe here.”

  “Didn’t you realize that before?”

  “Before, I only knew that we had not lost control over the stronghold.”

  “How many people are here?”

  “Enough that I am sure the C’than remain stable.”

  Stable didn’t sound all that reassuring to Lucy, but then, it wasn’t for her to decide. These were Carth’s people, and if anyone would know what to make of them, it would be Carth.

  “Where now?”

  “Now we will go on to our next stop.”

  “How many places are like this?”

  “More than even Olandar Fahr knows.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Carth hesitated, glancing back at the tower for a moment, darkness swirling around her face. Lucy wondered if that was intentional or whether it happened without Carth’s control. Either way, it gave a troubled look to the other woman’s face, and it made Lucy realize that Carth was far more bothered than she let on by what was taking place. Not that Lucy could blame her. She herself was bothered.

  “I’m as sure as I can be,” she said. “The challenge with him, as it always has been, is playing a game that he doesn’t see.”

  “A game?”

  “Unfortunately, that’s how he views this. To him, everything is a game.”

  Lucy smiled. “I seem to remember Reading something from Rayen that suggested you felt the same.”

  “I recognize that there is a difference between a game and the people who are impacted. Perhaps I didn’t always, but I do now.”

  “And Olandar Fahr?”

  “He is different. To him, all of this is a means to an end—a way for him to gain more power. That is what I oppose. That is why we continue to fight. And if we fail, many will suffer. He views all of us as pieces in his game. In order to stop him, we have to find moves—and pieces—he cannot see.”

  “How much time do you think we have?”

  “Not nearly as much as I would like. I fear that we are nearing the end of his maneuvering.” Carth turned again to look out at the water, staring into the distance. “He has been at this a long time. And because of it, he has made plan after plan, each of them giving him greater control. All of it is sweeping us up in his machinations, and I fear that we don’t have anyone who can outmaneuver him.”

  4

  Haern

  Haern stayed low, keeping his eyes on the forest but moving carefully so as not to draw attention. It was one of the earliest lessons Galen had taught him, cautioning him to move slowly so as not to draw attention to himself. Sudden movement could be jarring, and it was that kind of movement that he needed to avoid.

  The only problem was trying to move in such a way that he could keep an eye on the figure in the distance. Anything he did was far too noticeable. He needed to be careful, make his way quietly, and only then could he begin to avoid detection.

  The trees were thick, smooth trunks blocking his view, heavy foliage all around. The scent of grass and rotting leaves hung in the air, mixed with a wet earthy sort of odor. The rain made moving difficult, as he would leave prints anyplace he went, and though he had learned to avoid detection, there were limits to how well he could navigate.

  Haern gripped his lorcith-forged knives in his hand, keeping them clutched close to him as he went. If nothing else, he could push on the knives, and when he did, he could attack.

  Nervous energy filled him. Every movement had to be careful, subtle, so as not to attract notice, but he was no longer certain whether he was successful.

  Haern continued to connect to the lorcith. It was the most useful of his abilities, though he had talents with Sight. Sight was not nearly as useful to him as it needed to be.

  A slight movement caught his attention.

  It was about one hundred feet away, near enough that he could reach, but not so close that he could get there it easily. It would take effort on his part, and any attempt to chase down the other person would draw attention to him.

  This was the kind of thing he had been training for. This was exactly the kind of thing Galen had wanted him to learn.

  He didn’t have Galen’s ability with throwing darts, but with his connection to lorcith, he could use the knives.

  And it was something he had practiced, over and over again, until he had gotten to the point where he could do so easily and without needing to maintain significant focus.

  Haern pushed on the knife, sending it streaking away from him. He used a controlled maneuver, not wanting to send it too quickly but at the same time needing it to reach the opponent that Haern knew was within the woods.

  The knife smacked uselessly against the trunk of the tree, and Haern sent the other knife, more quickly this time, not mindful of the speed.

  The knife sailed through the air, striking the trunk of a tree.

  Great Watcher!

  Somehow, he needed to have better aim, and he had to stop wasting his knives like this. Every time he sent one out, he risked drawing attention to himself again.

  Haern pulled on the knives, drawing them back to him.

  As they came toward him, he pushed again, sending them streaking back toward the movement. Once again, he missed.

  It was almost as if whoever he was facing influenced the trajectory of his knives. But the only way that could happen would be if someone had the ability to influence lorcith like he did.

  As far as he knew, there weren’t too many people with that particular skill. And the more Haern worked on his abilities, the more powerful he became, to the point where he didn’t think there were all that many strong enough to overpower one of his pushes.

  The only other option would be…

  Haern spun around and managed to See a shimmering as his father Slid.

  Haern pushed on his knives, and his father pushed back.

  For a moment, the knives hung suspended in the air, and then his father overpowered his ability to control them, sending them streaking off to the side.

  “What are you doing?” his father asked.

  “Practicing,” Haern said. He resisted the urge to look around him, not wanting his father to know he was training with Galen. They had never been close, and now that Haern had asked Galen to train him—and Galen had agreed—he still hadn’t shared what he’d been doing with his father. He should have, especially as Galen had been the one who’d helped Haern find his father in the first place, rescuing him from the Forger attack.

  “Practicing? I thought your adventures were over now that you have returned to Elaeavn.”

  Haern looked around. “I haven’t returned to Elaeavn. I’m in the Aisl—Treleavn if anything—not in the city.”

  Rsiran flicked his gaze up. “The Aisl is part of Elaeavn now. I know you would prefer to think otherwise, but the city in the trees and the city on the shore are one and the same.”

  For as much as his father knew, the fact that he still believed that troubled Haern. Those within the city were not the same as those outside of it. And Rsiran simply didn’t see it, though Haern wasn’t sure that he could, not after everything he’d gone through. He believed that Elaeavn extended out into the forest and that the guilds and their guildlords were all working toward the same goal as those within the city, including the Elvraeth. He probably didn’t even know what those in the city called them.

  “I want to be ready,
” he said.

  “Ready? I’m not comfortable with you preparing to face the Forgers,” Rsiran said.

  “And I’m not comfortable being unprepared for when the Forgers come,” Haern said. “Had I taken more initiative before, I wouldn’t have been in such danger.”

  “You were only in danger because of a choice you made,” Rsiran said.

  A flicker of movement caught Haern’s attention and he spun, pushing on a knife.

  Galen twisted, barely missing the knife as it streaked past him.

  He stepped out of the shadows of the trees, approaching Haern and Rsiran.

  “This was your idea?” Rsiran asked Galen.

  “Your son was the one who approached me about working with him,” Galen said.

  “You are retired,” Rsiran said.

  “I was mostly retired until you were captured.”

  The two men stared at each other. For whatever reason, there remained no love lost between them, and Haern stepped forward, moving in between them before his father decided to attack or Galen decided to poison his father. He was no longer sure who would be victorious. There had been a time when Haern would have said his father would win, but that was before he had seen just how effective Galen and his darts could be. With his darts, Galen was able to overpower many people—including the Forgers. Even his father hadn’t been immune to them.

  “I asked Galen to work with me. If you’re going to be mad at anyone, be mad at me.”

  “I’m not mad at anyone,” Rsiran said.

  Haern chuckled. “Really? You could have fooled me.”

  “Is he teaching you how to use his darts?” Rsiran asked. He made a point of looking away from Galen.

  “He wants to, but I keep telling him that I prefer to use my knives. It’s the same as you, Father.”

  “The knives are fine, it’s just that I want him to be prepared for the possibility that he will need other abilities than only that of pushing on knives. Control of lorcith is wonderful if he’s able to maintain that connection. The moment that bond fades—”

  “I know what happens if his connection to the metal fades,” Rsiran said harshly.

  “I’m sure you do. I want him to be prepared for any possibility.”

  Rsiran smiled. There was darkness and irritation within it, making it less of a smile and more of a grotesque caricature of that emotion. “Is that right? You would have him learn the same techniques that you know?”

  Galen didn’t blink. “Yes.”

  Rsiran stared. “That includes everything?”

  “As much as I can, but there are others who might be more effective teachers.”

  His father glanced over. “Is that why you’ve been spending so much time with Darren?”

  Haern flushed. Maybe he should have talked to his father sooner. It was one thing for his mother to know what he’d been up to, but quite another for his father to hear it, and to find out about it in such a way as this.

  “Galen wants me to understand all properties of various herbs and medicines.”

  “Is that how Della taught you?” Rsiran asked.

  “Della taught me the healing properties of various compounds, and I later learned there were other potentials. If you would rather train him yourself…”

  Haern shook his head. “I want to work with Galen.”

  His father looked over at him, and Haern could only shrug. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to learn from his father. There were many things he thought he could learn, but everything his father had tried to teach so far didn’t really fit him. Haern might have some connection to the metal—well, maybe more than just some—but he needed more than that. He needed to have confidence in his abilities, and for whatever reason, he simply did not. Galen’s skills relied less on abilities granted by the Great Watcher and more upon training and skill. That mattered more to Haern.

  “Why were you out here?” Haern asked his father.

  “Do I need a reason to come into the forest?”

  “Were you following me?”

  Galen remained silent, but he glanced from Haern to his father.

  “What reason would I have to follow you?”

  “I don’t know what reason you would have. I also don’t know why you came out here. You’ve been quiet since we returned, and you certainly haven’t spent all that much time in the forest.”

  Haern regretted the words as soon as he said them. There had to be a reason his father had not come into the forest as much as he once had, and as difficult as it was to believe, he suspected it had something to do with his capture. How could it have any other reason? And Haern couldn’t even blame his father. Not that his father deserved blame for his capture.

  “You may not have seen me patrolling the Aisl, but I’ve been here,” he said softly.

  “I would see you,” Galen said.

  “And have you?”

  Galen only shrugged. “No.” He flashed a tight smile. “Then again, I haven’t been looking, either.”

  Haern might not know if his father was out in the forest. With his father’s ability to Slide, he could travel the entirety of the forest without ever being noticed. It was a potent ability, and combined with his other gifts, his father was extremely powerful. It was because of his father that Elaeavn had remained safe for so long.

  And now Haern no longer knew if the city remained safe. For all he knew, it was not.

  “I detected lorcith moving,” Rsiran said. He glanced at Haern. “And now I see why. I hadn’t realized you were working on developing this skill. I thought the guild worked with you on it.”

  “I don’t have the same talent as you, Father.”

  “Only because you haven’t attempted to hold it.”

  “Grandfather has tried to work with me. It’s just that I’m not a good smith.” Though, if his grandfather had anything to say about it, Haern would become a skilled smith.

  “You are a Lareth. The blood of the smiths lives within you. You can’t claim that you’re not good at something if you haven’t put the effort into it.”

  Several different thoughts came to Haern’s mind, not the least of which was that his father had rarely been around when he was growing up, so he wouldn’t necessarily know how much effort Haern had put into learning what it took to become a smith. He had expended some effort, though possibly he could have put forth much more. The only problem was that, while he found he had some ability, he didn’t really enjoy it. That was the difference between him and his father. His father had never truly understood. He loved standing at his forge, heating metal, hammering it into shapes and making his knives and swords and some of the truly incredible creations he had crafted over the years. Haern simply did not.

  “I will put as much effort into it as is needed,” he said. It was better not to argue with his father, when it came down to it. “Besides, I’m putting my energy into working with Galen, being prepared for what might come.”

  To his credit, it seemed almost as if Rsiran bit back his retort. Haern was thankful, as he didn’t really want to get into an argument with his father about this. It simply wasn’t worth it for either of them.

  “When you are finished, come and see me.”

  Haern could only nod. With a shimmer, his father flickered and then disappeared, Sliding back to the Aisl.

  Galen let his gaze linger for a moment before turning his attention to Haern.

  “You allowed him to influence your knives,” he said.

  “I didn’t know he was going to be there. How could I account for that?”

  “You need to be prepared for all possibilities. That’s what I’ve been trying to teach you. Just because you don’t see someone doesn’t mean they’re not influencing you. Even your father must acknowledge that. The ability to Slide is not without some potential for danger. There exist some who have the ability to influence a Slide, and if your father allows someone to do that to him, he could end up someplace quite different than he had intended.”

  “I do
ubt my father has ever been pulled on a Slide like that.”

  “Your father is not all-powerful. There was a time when his abilities were not as fine-tuned as they are now. In that, you are not so different. You view yourself as less than him, but in time, I hope you will see that’s not the case.”

  Haern grunted. “It’s not that I view myself as less than him. It’s just that I don’t have the same abilities, and I’m all right with that. I wasn’t. For the longest time, I hated the fact that I was different, that I didn’t have any of my father’s abilities, but I don’t, not anymore, which is why I want to work with you.”

  “I didn’t know that I would enjoy tormenting your father quite as much as I do,” Galen said softly.

  “I don’t understand. The two of you have been on the same side. Why would you be so interested in tormenting him?”

  “Just because we are on the same side and we both want similar things doesn’t mean that we have to get along.”

  “I suppose.”

  “And it’s probably childish of me to feel that way,” Galen said.

  Haern arched a brow at the other man. Streaks of silver worked through his hair, wrinkles marked the corners of his eyes, and there were deep furrows on his brow. There was nothing childish about Galen, not anymore.

  “Careful,” Galen said.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t need to. I Saw what you were thinking.”

  “You Saw it?”

  “I Saw your reaction,” he said, smiling. “I don’t need to See anything else.”

  Haern only grinned. It was so much easier chatting with Galen. It was the way he wished things could be with him and his father, only they had always had a strained relationship.

  “I didn’t say anything about your age.”

  “And you shouldn’t. If age matters, you would have been able to catch me, but you barely Saw me.”

  “I Saw you.”

  “Did you? I was—”