The Dark Ability: Books 1-4

by D. K. Holmberg

  A figure moved along the ground opposite them. He wore a dark cloak, either deep green or black, that barely moved as he walked. Pants were of the same dark color. A long sword shifted from beneath his cloak occasionally. He gripped a crossbow in his hand.

  They had to hurry before this guard saw them. And if there was one, how could they be certain there weren’t others?

  Jessa pointed, and he nodded. “My Sight isn’t that bad.”

  She grunted, as if telling him she couldn’t be sure.

  As Rsiran looked around for the place to Slide, he felt the presence of lorcith. It was a different sense than he had felt within the mines, less an awareness and sense of the ore calling than a presence designed to push them away.

  At first, he thought it might be from the dark building, but as he shifted his focus, he realized that was not the case. The pressure seemed to come from everywhere around him.

  Several moments passed before he realized it was the bars on the window that he felt.

  Rsiran took a deep breath. Jessa was right; they shouldn’t sit atop the wall much longer. Choosing one of the towers, he focused on the upper portion, imagining what the floor would look like inside the window. That should be far enough to get them into the palace but not so far that he overshot. If he was wrong—if the Slide took them inside a wall or worse, simply Sliding over the tower—then they might not survive. Rsiran was careful to maintain his focus.

  Then he pressed into the Slide.

  And was pushed back.

  The sense was like a soft pressure against his whole body. Since he had learned how to Slide, always he had been able to navigate the space between the planes that allowed him to take a single step and travel. The only time he had failed was when Haern had held him in place. This felt different.

  Rather than held in place, he simply couldn’t step forward. Before they even tried, they would fail.

  But the pressure was not completely unfamiliar. Something about it reminded him of the sense he had from the lorcith.

  “Tell me what you see of the windows,” he said, looking at the bars covering the windows.

  She glanced at him and frowned. “You want to sneak in through one of the windows? I thought you were going to Slide into the palace.”

  “I’m not sure I can.” The sensation, the pressure, was strange, but the longer he stood atop the wall, the more certain he became that it was the lorcith itself, as if the metal itself worked to exclude him.

  “I don’t understand. You got us here. You took me to the top of Krali. I can see the palace…”

  “I’m not sure I understand either,” he admitted. “I feel like there is something pushing against me, blocking me. I think it has to do with the windows.”

  Never before had lorcith prevented him from Sliding. He had even Slid huge nuggets from the mines. He had Slid with forged lorcith. He had forged lorcith with him now. But somehow it held him back.

  And if he couldn’t Slide into the palace, Josun would make certain they suffered.

  Jessa looked toward the towers. “They’re windows. Probably large enough for us to crawl through if we can make it across the clearing without being seen. The bars might make it difficult, but we could probably pry them off.”

  “What about the bars? What do you see there?”

  She shrugged. “They are thick and silver. They look twisted, like a braided rope. Where they meet in the middle there is a small circle. I think something is engraved or printed on the circle, but I can’t make it out.” She sounded surprised by that fact.

  “How are they attached to the stone?”

  Jessa squinted, her brow furrowed in concentration. One hand went to touch the flower on her shirt, almost stroking the petals. “Can’t tell that, either. Maybe they come out of the stone, almost like they are buried into the wall itself.” She looked over at him. “That might make them a little hard to pry off.”

  Another of the dark-cloaked patrols moved across the inside of grounds. The guard patrolled on this side of the wall. Was it the same person or another?

  He pulled Jessa back a step. Much closer, and they would have to Slide away.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to get inside.”

  Jessa smiled. “I told you that you would need me.”

  “If I can’t get through the windows, then how will I get inside?”

  She pointed toward the dark stone building in the center of the clearing. “The door.”

  Rsiran looked but didn’t see any sign of a door on the dark stone. And starting from there meant they would have to somehow sneak through the entire palace to reach the council. Once inside the palace, he wasn’t entirely sure how to find his way. He hoped the lorcith would guide him, but what if it didn’t?

  “Are you sure?”

  Jessa sniffed softly. “I’ll pretend you didn’t say that,” she said. “Center of the building. Can you get us down there?”

  “Us?”

  “If you have to sneak through the palace, you’re taking me.” Her tone allowed no argument.

  Rsiran decided he could Slide her to safety once he knew where they were going.

  The guard was drawing closer to where they crouched. Rsiran scanned the yard but didn’t see any others. He focused on the area in front of the building. Pressing forward with his Slide, he didn’t meet any resistance like he had earlier. Squeezing Jessa’s hand, he took a small step and emerged outside the building.

  The effort of the Slide made him lean forward as a wave of dizziness threatened to overcome him. Jessa pulled on his arm to keep him upright. As he stood, he noticed she had been right. A door was cut into the face of the building, barely more than a simple line around the frame marking its border. A silvery handle, clearly of lorcith and folded like his knives to make it look like the metal was liquid, was at waist high.

  “Are you sure this connects to the towers?” he whispered.

  Jessa shook her head. “Not sure about anything here.”

  She went to work, ducking down in front of the door. The folded leather lockpick set was already out, and she pulled out a slender rod and stuffed it into the lock.

  Rsiran looked across the courtyard. Soft grass grew all around, green even in the light of the moon. The five towers loomed high overhead. Blue light glowed behind a few of the windows. He saw no sign of the guard who had been patrolling near them, but they needed to hurry. The demonstration would be over before they started if they got caught in the open.

  Up close, the dark building behind him was not the same color as lorcith as he first thought. Rsiran set a hand on it and found the surface cool and smooth. A faint humming pulsated in the wall, as if coming from a great distance. The sense was familiar and reminded him of the way lorcith seemed to call on him when he had been in the mines, but different.

  His breath caught. Not stone at all, but a form of lorcith, an alloy. But Rsiran did not think that possible.

  Jessa stepped back and bumped into him. “Can’t open it. There seems to be something in the lock.”

  Rsiran slipped past her and looked at the lock. Oblong and thin, more like a slit than any lock he had seen. A simple round hoop sat above it. On an impulse, he pulled one of his forged knives out of his pocket, the folds flowing and sliding in the light of the moon, and pushed it into the slit.

  At first, there was resistance, but then the knife pushed past it, as if stabbing through a barrier, and he felt a soft click. The door opened.

  Jessa glared at him. “How did you do that?” she whispered, moving past him and into the doorway.

  Rsiran shrugged. “Guess you’re not the only sneak.”

  She elbowed him in the side as she hurried into the building.

  Before following her through the door, he pulled the knife out of the slit and stuffed it back into his pocket. Rsiran saw a shadow move and pulled the door closed behind him. It shut with a soft click.

  “This better be part of the palace,” he suggested as darkness surrounded him.r />
  Not for the first time, he was thankful Jessa was with him. Without her Sight, he was not sure that he would even be inside already. Now that he was, he would need her Sight to guide him. Hopefully Haern’s vision wasn’t accurate.

  The darkness around him was complete, somehow seeming even darker than what he had experienced in the mines. There seemed to be a distant sound, like a humming or a buzzing, and he felt a soft thrumming through the soles of his boots that vibrated through him.

  Jessa grabbed his hand, and he gripped her tightly.

  She led him forward. “Stairs.”

  The sudden sound almost made him jump. With her warning, he dragged his feet forward, feeling his way along the smooth floor. Everything about it reminded him of being in the mines. Even the sense of lorcith around him was like the mines.

  “How will we find where we’re going?” Jessa asked after they had taken several dozen steps.

  “I’ll feel it,” He hadn’t told her that part yet.

  “What do you mean?”

  He pulled on her hand as they walked and pulled her closer so he could feel her next to him. She smelled like the flower on her shirt, sweet and perfumed but with a hint of spice. Even scared as he was, Rsiran couldn’t help but smile.

  “Lorcith is different from other metals.”

  “You’ve said that.”

  He shook his head, wishing he could see her face as she could see his. Always he felt so limited with his ability. “It is different for me,” he told her. “I can… feel lorcith. That is how I did so well in the mines. That is why I was attacked.”

  “You can feel it?”

  “I don’t know why.”

  “I’ve never heard of such an ability.”

  They had stopped walking. The air around them was still, nothing like the steady breathing in the mines, and almost heavy, as if damp. A hint of the bitterness of lorcith hung in the air, but Rsiran didn’t know if that was from the knives he carried or the palace. Somewhere far ahead came a faint blue glow, so dim that it was almost imagined.

  “I think my father has it too. Maybe all the master smiths.” Rsiran shrugged. If only his father had told him more about that gift rather than chastising him for his ability to Slide.

  Jessa grunted. “Must be why it is so hard to get an apprenticeship with the guild.”

  “Probably why my father stuck with me as long as he did,” Rsiran realized. But if that was true, why had he wanted him to suppress it?

  It was an ability that Rsiran did not fear. Other than nearly getting him killed in the mines, the ability to feel the lorcith, to hear its call, had guided his hands, helped with his forgings.

  “Do you feel it now?”

  Rsiran tried to feel for the lorcith sword the Elvraeth Josun had stolen from him. Only now was he starting to understand why he had felt it that night in the warehouse, the same reason he felt the knife when Haern had attacked him. The same reason he felt the knives in his pockets and tucked into his pants. He could feel lorcith he’d forged more strongly than any other. Perhaps something more, but he was almost afraid to test that.

  “Not yet.”

  Jessa sighed softly. “This won’t work if it’s not here. You might have to do what he asked after all. Deal with Josun later.”

  “You think poisoning the council would be easier? You think helping a rebellion better?” he whispered.

  Jessa led him forward, toward the soft blue glow. Only as it became brighter did she answer. “Easier than losing you.” Rsiran felt her shiver.

  “You could always leave,” he suggested.

  “What—sneak back out the door? Try to get across the lawn without one of the guards seeing me and firing at me? Climbing that wall to escape back into Elaeavn, only to sit and worry about what was happening to you? No. I stay with you.”

  “Thank—”

  He cut off as she jerked him back against the wall and clapped a hand across his mouth.

  Down the passageway, there was movement, shadows sliding in front of the faint blue light. As he watched, one of the shadows moved closer.

  “Rsiran—” Jessa whispered so softly that he almost didn’t hear it.

  Hopefully whoever was coming toward them was not a Listener. Of course, if they were Elvraeth, they probably were.

  Jessa kept a hand on his mouth and backed him down the hall.

  He could see nothing, forced to trust whatever Jessa saw. His heart hammered. A Listener would know they were there simply by the sound of his breathing, the sound of his heartbeat. Someone Sighted wouldn’t even need that.

  And they were in the Elvraeth palace. Everyone here had abilities stronger than his.

  Rsiran felt completely out of his league. Why had he thought he could simply Slide into the palace?

  Something loomed closer. Next to him, Jessa’s breathing quickened. Her hand slicked with sweat. She pushed him more urgently, unmindful of the noise.

  Rsiran heard footsteps clearly now, padding softly but quickly along the stone of the corridor. They had been seen.

  Haern was right. They would be captured. Exiled. Forgotten.

  Shame came over him. Had he really thought he could break into the palace? Had he really thought he could out maneuver one of the Elvraeth?

  Another thought hit him, one that should not bother him but still did.

  Now his father would know that he was right. Would likely revel in the fact that he had been right to sentence him to the mines. Now he would not have to ever worry about remembering his son.

  At best, Rsiran would be Forgotten. But there were other punishments, those he couldn’t Slide from. What if he were sentenced to death?

  But not Jessa. He would not let that happen to Jessa. He would prove Haern wrong in that.

  They needed to move. Even unable to see anything, he knew they needed to move.

  There was only one thing he could do, but he had to be able to Slide.

  Here, trapped in this building made of some strange lorcith alloy, he didn’t know if he could manage, but Rsiran knew he had to try.

  Pressing his eyes closed, he focused, straining for lorcith, searching for one of his forgings. Footsteps came closer. Jessa squeezed his hand painfully. It had to be now.

  Fear coursing through him seemed to give him strength.

  There was a distant sense, but one still within the palace, like a pinprick in his mind.

  Rsiran latched on, uncertain what he felt but daring to risk it.

  Then he stepped into a Slide.

  Chapter 33

  The Slide was more difficult than any he had ever attempted. It felt like his skin tore as he pushed through a space too small. He held the distant sense firm in his mind. As he Slid, it became sharper, almost painful. Rather than the sense of rapid movement he was accustomed to feeling, he felt an oozing that reminded him of the folded metal knives. There was no sound of wind whipping through his ears. Only a heavy muted feeling.

  And then it was over.

  He staggered forward, caught only by Jessa still gripping his hand tightly. Had she felt the Slide the same way he had, felt the slow oozing, the pain of it as it almost tore the flesh of his body, or had it felt no different to her?

  He took a few ragged breaths and finally opened his eyes.

  He expected darkness, but instead saw a soft blue light. The light was similar to the orange glow deep within the mines that he had grown to hate, the never-ending persistence of the lantern, the unchanging lighting giving him no sense of night or day.

  He looked over to Jessa. Her mouth was open as if to scream, but she shut it when she saw him looking.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. His voice was hoarse. Fatigue unlike any he had ever felt swept through him, as if he had spent a full day hammering at the forge with the heavy mallet. Even if they managed to secure the sword and leave the poison behind as planned, he was not sure he could get them back out.

  They would be trapped.

  She shook her head. “They wi
ll know we’re here,” she answered.

  “Maybe. But not who is here. Not yet, at least.” Rsiran didn’t know how much longer that would be the case. And even if they found him, could he explain to the council? Would they believe?

  She closed her eyes and nodded. “We must hurry.”

  He nodded, afraid to tell her it probably wouldn’t matter.

  The room was unlike any he had ever seen. Well appointed, a plush carpet lined the floor, a luxury not found in most of the homes in Elaeavn. A blue lantern, the shape more ornate than the one in the mines, sat atop a table. Rsiran was not surprised to see that it was made of lorcith. Had he more time, he suspected he could even determine the smith who made it.

  Next to the lantern, a small ledger lay open, tight lettering written upon the page in what appeared to be code. Or, Rsiran wondered, it might be a language unique to the Elvraeth. A small carafe of wine stood on the table next to the ledger. On either side of a large hearth sat a pair of chairs. A smokeless flame burned in the hearth, giving unnecessary warmth to the room. A tapestry that appeared to be some sort of map, Elaeavn marked along the bottom corner, hung opposite the fireplace.

  Rsiran was shocked to see this wasn’t even sleeping quarters, but some sort of sitting room. A pair of large wooden doors along the far wall likely opened into the sleeping quarters. This room alone was nearly as large as his parents’ house.

  Jessa flipped through the ledger and then slipped it into her pocket. She shot him a hard look. “If we make it out.”

  “What if we’re caught?” Stealing would only add to their punishment.

  “They have more than enough reason to banish us already.”

  She said the words with a strength he found surprising. Not that he would underestimate Jessa.

  “Where is it?” she whispered.

  Rsiran looked around. He felt the presence of the sword nearby. Now that they were in these rooms—likely the rooms of the Elvraeth Josun—he knew the sword was near. He’d thought that the Slide would carry him to it, using it as an anchor of sorts. That it hadn’t meant he had nearly lost control of the Slide. He had risked not only himself, but Jessa.