The Dark Ability: Books 1-4

by D. K. Holmberg

  “I’m glad you came back.” He knew she would eventually.

  “Now you’re concerned with hurting me?”

  “I’m always concerned with you getting hurt.”

  She punched him on his shoulder and let out a soft sigh. “I know you are. But you shouldn’t be.”

  “Why not?” he asked.

  Jessa opened her mouth and closed it again, as if considering her answer. “Because it makes me nervous,” she finally said.

  Rsiran laughed. She glared at him and the laugh died off. “Why would that make you nervous?”

  “Before Brusus, no one ever really cared what happened to me,” she said. She didn’t meet his eyes.

  He pulled her toward him, realizing that it was her past that bothered her most. “Do you care about the fact that my father banished me to the mines?”

  “Of course not,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Or that I have a dark ability?”

  She glared at him again. “You know that’s not true. If not for what you can do, both Brusus and I would be dead.”

  “Then what would you have to say that would scare me away?”

  At first, he didn’t think she would answer. For so long, she had avoided talking about her past. All he knew was that she had something she hid from him. That she would open up to him now that she was angry with him surprised him.

  “I haven’t always lived in Elaeavn,” she said.

  “Where else would you live?” Few of their people ever left Elaeavn. She had told him that Haern had. He suspected that Brusus had.

  “Many places,” she answered. “Cort for a while. And then Ilian.”

  “I don’t understand. How did you live outside the city?”

  Jessa started to turn away from him, but he wouldn’t let her.

  “I’m like Brusus.”

  At first, he thought she meant that she had Elvraeth blood. But he knew that wasn’t true. Jessa was Sighted, but had no other gifts. At least, none that he knew of. What she meant dawned on him slowly. A child of the Forgotten. “Who?”

  “My father.” She swallowed and looked up to meet his eyes. “He was a thief. A sneak. That’s where I learned.”

  “But thieves are sent to the mines first.”

  She smiled bitterly. “Not if they try to break into the palace. But all that was before my time. When he was exiled,”—Rsiran noted how she didn’t say Forgotten—“my mother chose to go with him. I was born outside the city.”

  “But why would you think I would care about that? I mean—my own father tried to exile me to the prison mines!”

  Jessa didn’t say anything.

  “That’s not it, though. Is it?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then what? What don’t you want to tell me? And how did you get back to Elaeavn?”

  Jessa pushed away from him, and he let her go. He wouldn’t hold onto her if she wanted some space. “I told you that Haern used to be…”

  “An assassin. Yes.” He didn’t mention how Haern had tried to kill him once. He might deny his intent now, but Haern had been pretty clear that he would do whatever was needed to protect Jessa.”

  “You never asked how I knew. It’s not something he shares with everyone.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I was young. My father was in a prison in a small town in Granlon. Barely more than a village. The local constable thought he’d been trying to break into the jeweler. Knowing my father, he probably was. Mother was working with the constable to buy his freedom when they came for me.”

  He didn’t understand. “Who came for you?”

  A tear formed at the corner of her eye. “Outside Elaeavn, there can be great beauty. Some of the other cities spread out in ways Elaeavn will never know. But there is ugliness too.” She paused and swallowed, wiping away the tear that had escaped her eye. “The men who abducted me took me to Eban. Said there was a man who liked girls like me. They tried to… They tried to do things to me, but I kept fighting and kicking.” She shook her head and swallowed again. “I don’t know what would have happened had Haern not found me.”

  A silent sob passed through her. Jessa forced herself to smile. “He rescued me from that ugliness. Said he would bring me to Elaeavn. At first… all I wanted was to be with my parents. But then I learned what the jailors did to my father. How they took his hand for stealing and left the infection to fester. I never learned what happened to my mother.”

  “Jessa… I am so sorry.”

  Rsiran began to understand why Haern felt so protective of Jessa. Why he hadn’t wanted anything to happen to her. What she’d already been through was more than anyone deserved.

  He crossed the distance to her and pulled her close. She didn’t fight. “Nothing you’ve said will scare me away.” He squeezed her tight. “Well… maybe Haern could if he tried to kill me again.”

  She rested her head against him and laughed. “Haern sees me as his responsibility. Not as much anymore, not since we reached Elaeavn and Brusus took us in.”

  “Jessa…”

  She shook her head. The sense of vulnerability faded, disappearing as if it had never been there. “So after what I’ve been through, it would take more than what you can dish up to hurt me. What does hurt is you thinking you need to be protecting me. If working with Brusus over the last few years has taught me anything, it’s that we’re stronger when we work together.” She pointed at his chest. “And that goes for you and me too.”

  Rsiran began to understand her anger. Not all of it. There were things she hadn’t shared, but he had the sense that she would in time. “I wouldn’t have been able to take you with me when I went.”

  “No? So you just had to go Sliding off to the warehouse by yourself? And if something had happened to you… if you didn’t Slide far enough or too far and got stuck somehow? You’ve told me how you need a sense of where you’re going to make sure the Slide is successful.”

  He reached toward her again, hoping to pull her back into his arms, but she shook her head. The moment had passed. Her irritation with him had returned. Short brown hair flicked angrily.

  “No.”

  “Jessa—I didn’t leave to upset you. I knew there was something there. And there was!” He turned and lifted the soft metal off the bench and held it out for her. “I found this.”

  Jessa took the metal and turned it over, frowning as she did. When she reached the indentation from the knife, she looked up at him. “Where?”

  “Where I told you I needed to look. In the space between the crates.”

  Curiosity melted some of her anger. “Just this?”

  “There were some other things. What looked like crudely forged metal. Looked like someone trying to work with lorcith.” As he said it, he remembered that they weren’t just crudely formed items, but items made of a dull silver that reminded him so much of lorcith. Yet unlike most lorcith, he hadn’t felt it. “This is meant for an alloy,” he realized.

  He took the lump of metal back from Jessa and pressed his thumbnail into it, watching it indent. But what kind of alloy? And at what ratio?

  Were he a member of the smith guild, he could have gone to the alchemist guild and asked. Likely, someone there knew the answer. Possibly his father would have as well. He had known more about lorcith than most of the other master smiths. But he didn’t have that option.

  Jessa frowned at him. “An alloy of what?”

  He turned to the forge. Without an alchemist, would he be able to work that out on his own? Would the lorcith guide him in this as it had helped his forgings? But, remembering the sense he had from the lantern, that of coercion required to make the alloy, he didn’t think that likely. The ore hadn’t wanted to become an alloy. Doing so changed its purpose. Changed what it was. And in spite of that, it had still agreed. That had been the key to creating the alloy.

  “With lorcith. This must be the metal used in the alloy that blocked me from reaching the palace. And Ilphaesn.”

/>   And if he could learn how to make the alloy, could he learn how to bypass it? Maybe then, he could reach the hidden mines in Ilphaesn. Learn who Firell worked for within the rebellion. Get some answers about what they were after.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen this metal before. It’s soft. Pretty much useless for forging anything, except for making an alloy.” He looked back to Jessa. “I should have realized that sooner. That was what they were trying to make.”

  “Who? What are you talking about?”

  “In the space between the crates at the warehouse. There was a pan, ground scorched as if heated. A rectangle of something that looked like silver, and this lump of metal. I thought someone was trying to create a makeshift forge, but maybe that wasn’t it at all. Maybe they were just trying to create an alloy using this metal.”

  “With lorcith? How could they have gotten it hot enough?”

  Rsiran smiled. “You’ve been paying attention.”

  She shrugged. “You get the damn smithy hot enough. Every time I complain, you just tell me that you need to get the lorcith to temperature. Different with iron.”

  He nodded. “And steel. Each metal takes a different temperature.”

  “So? You said you saw a pan and evidence of a fire.” Rsiran nodded. “Then how would someone working in the warehouse get lorcith hot enough? Because it takes your entire forge blowing at blast strength to get it hot enough here.”

  She had a point. But he didn’t have any other explanation. “I don’t know.”

  “Show me.”

  “Show you how to make an alloy?”

  She shook her head. Rsiran could tell she was getting annoyed with him. Or her anger was returning. The latter would be worse for him. After what she’d told him and how he’d snuck off on his own, he understood. And probably deserved it.

  “Show me the warehouse. The space between the crates. Now that you’ve been there, you can safely return, right?”

  Rsiran didn’t really want to return to the warehouse. After overhearing Firell on the ship speaking to someone he assumed was one of the Elvraeth, he worried about what would happen if they were discovered.

  “I told you. You need to stop worrying about me. I can take care of myself.”

  He smiled at her tightly. “I know you can. That doesn’t mean I have to put you in danger.”

  “I do that pretty well on my own.”

  He didn’t ask her to explain what she meant. “Jessa—”

  “I will go whether you Slide me there or not. You’re not the only one in this, Rsiran.”

  “How will you get past the stack of crates?”

  She glared at him. “I’m a sneak. I’ve gotten past bigger obstacles than that before I ever met you.”

  “I know. You’ve made a point of telling me.”

  She looked at him as if she wanted to punch him again, and then laughed. She held out her hand, waiting.

  Hating that they had to do this, Rsiran took her hand and Slid.

  They emerged in the central clearing of the warehouse. He struggled with the sudden change in lighting. Though daylight pushed through the windows overhead, what light made it through was weak and dirty.

  “I thought you were going to Slide us to the hidden space?” Jessa whispered.

  “We’ll walk there.”

  He hadn’t wanted to Slide directly into that space. If he made a mistake in the Slide, he didn’t want to risk her. Now that they were in the warehouse, the next Slide wouldn’t be as great a distance, and he should have tighter control. But rested as he was, he probably could have Slid directly to the spot.

  Jessa led him along the wall of crates hurrying toward where they stacked to the ceiling. At one point, she paused, looking at the ground. “You weren’t subtle here, were you?”

  Rsiran looked but couldn’t make out what she saw. “I made sure to Slide as I moved. Went to the top of the crates,” he said, pointing behind him, “looking for a different way in. Or at least a way to see where I was going. I didn’t walk through here much.”

  She frowned, but didn’t say anything. Every so often as they made their way along the crates, she stopped and stared at the stacks. Her lips tightened and her eyes narrowed. With more light, Rsiran suspected he would see her frowning. What did she see?

  When they nearly reached the end of the warehouse, the massive brick wall stretching up before them, he pulled her short and squeezed her hand. Jessa nodded.

  He knew a moment of fear as he Slid past the crates, making certain that they would emerge in the middle of the space. When they did, Jessa let go of his hand. The darkness around him left him uneasy. Here, standing between the walls of crates, his eyes struggling to see more than shadows, left him feeling as if he had plunged back into the mines. Why had he not brought the lamp?

  Rsiran immediately knew something was different. The air tasted different. Stale. But something else as well.

  It took a moment to realize what it was. Lorcith.

  “Jessa—” His voice came as a whisper.

  “We’re alone.”

  Some of the tension he’d suddenly felt quickly dissipated. “Do you see the objects?”

  “I see one object.”

  He frowned. “Just one?”

  “Yes. Rsiran… you need to come here.”

  He made his way toward her voice, feeling her by the sense of the lorcith charm more than anything. When he reached her, he put his hand out and she took it. “What is it? What do you see?”

  “You said you were here yesterday?” He nodded. “And there was a pan. Some metal objects.”

  “And a panel of wood. I think it came from one of the crates. The objects were set atop it. Underneath the panel was where the earth had been scorched.” When she didn’t say anything, he turned to her. The sense of lorcith in her charm pulled at him, but he’d made something else that was nearby, only he didn’t know what it was. Or why it would be so close. “What is it, Jessa? What do you see?”

  “There’s no pan here. No deformed object. No plank of wood. I don’t even see any evidence of the burned ground you said would be here. Nothing… other than this.” She leaned away from him for a moment, but didn’t let go of his hand.

  When she stood back up, she pressed something into his other hand. It took him a moment to recognize what it was. Not a knife or something dangerous that he might have made. Instead, she handed him a small narrow cylinder. One that he’d made only a week ago. And one that he thought was still in his shop.

  Why was it here? And where were the other things he’d seen when he’d come yesterday?

  More than that, a worry simmered up within him. Whoever had been here was gone, taking everything that they’d worked on with them, leaving only the lorcith cylinder. Almost as if a message.

  They might be gone, but they knew he had been here. And they knew who he was.

  Chapter 17

  Rsiran and Jessa tried finding Brusus that night but could not. When they reached the Barth, their usual table sat empty. No one diced or drank. The tavern was fuller tonight. Most sat along the bar or perched atop the stools scattered around tables. A bandolist played tonight, the song a slow dirge. The fire crackled with less energy.

  Jessa waved Lianna over to them.

  “You don’t have to stand. Might be busier than usual, but still have plenty of room for regulars. Might even get a few to move if you want me to.” A wide smile crossed her face.

  Jessa shook her head. “Has Brusus come in yet tonight?”

  “Not tonight. Been coming by later and later.” Lianna started away but paused. “Something’s got you worried.”

  “Just let him know we were here.”

  “And where should I tell him that you’ll be?”

  Rsiran thought about it. Not the smithy. They couldn’t stay there too long. And after what he’d told Jessa about what he heard on Firell’s ship, she wanted them to Slide there so she could see for herself. Finding Br
usus had been the compromise.

  “We’ll find him,” Jessa answered.

  Lianna took Jessa’s arm. “You be careful. I know he’s got you messed up in something again. Don’t want you getting hurt. Or worse.”

  Jessa smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “He’s always got us messed up in something, Lianna. You should know that.”

  Lianna grunted. “I’ve told him he needs to give it all up. Too much could be lost.”

  Jessa gave Lianna a quick hug and pulled Rsiran from the tavern. Standing on the street outside, with only the single lantern lighting their way, she looked down toward the docks. A chill hung on the air and wind gusted down from the north. Waves crashed wildly along the shore, louder than usual.

  “Not a good idea. Not at night,” Rsiran said.

  “You think daytime will be better? Why not go when he won’t be expecting us to be there?” She lowered her voice and slipped an arm around his waist, steering him down the street. They passed a few people along the way, though none looked at them. “You’re the one who said you thought he got caught up in… whatever Josun was a part of.” She said the last as a whisper, as if refusing to acknowledge the rebellion that Rsiran was convinced existed.

  Rsiran looked around the street before answering. “Either that of one of the Elvraeth. Who else can convince the constables to turn a blind eye?”

  “Brusus. Shael. Haern. Me.”

  “Wait… how?”

  Jessa shrugged. “Enough coin, and anyone looks the other way. That’s how it works in Lower Town.” They turned down one of the side streets. “Enough coin and others talk. Why do you think Brusus wants to move your knives?”

  “Who is he trying to get to talk?”

  “Don’t know, but when I’ve seen him in Upper Town, that’s what he’s been doing.”

  Rsiran wondered why Brusus wouldn’t have said anything to them.

  “So you didn’t see this person when you went to Firell’s ship?”

  “I didn’t. And maybe we should just ask him.”

  “If he’s working with the Elvraeth?” Rsiran nodded. “That’s not going to get you anywhere. If he’s not, he’ll just be upset with you. And if he is, what makes you think he’ll admit it to you? Better to search for a few more answers.”