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The Dark Ability: Books 1-4

Page 42

by D. K. Holmberg


  “Not all are felt the same way. Most Sliders do not even know what they do. But those with strength, like you and the Elvraeth, make larger ripples.” She leaned toward the fire. Light from the flames reflected from her deep green eyes. “I cannot tell how many like you there are, Rsiran. There is no signature to Sliding. It just doesn’t work like that. But know that you are not alone with your gift.”

  He took another sip of the mint tea. After meeting Josun, he hadn’t thought that he was alone with his gift, but it was reassuring that there were others like him. Reassuring… and frightening. How many other Elvraeth could Slide? They were the most likely to manifest the ability. Josun claimed the council had worked to eliminate it, but if Rsiran could do it—and Josun—it seemed likely others of the Elvraeth could as well. And what if there were others like Josun, those who sided with him in his rebellion?

  “Why did you pull me here tonight?” he asked.

  “There is much you have yet to learn about your gifts. It is different from some of the other gifts, different from Sight or Reading. Mistakes can happen. You can get hurt. Practice, simply using your ability can help but may not be enough. Ignorance can kill you as easily as a misstep.”

  “I know.”

  “But you do not yet know how to control your abilities. Not fully. That is what you must practice.”

  Other gifts were well enough known. One with Sight could help another with Sight learn the intricacies of the gift. But with Sliding, Rsiran did not know who else to ask. Just as he’d learned of his ability by chance, he had to learn how to control it the same way. Doing so put him in a certain type of danger. “I do what I can.”

  She watched him. Rsiran had the sense that she wanted to say something but did not. Instead, she shifted her scarf and settled into her chair.

  “There is something else you must know about your gifts,” Della said.

  “What?”

  “You have learned that you cannot Slide everywhere.”

  He nodded slowly.

  “Long ago, barriers were constructed to prevent Sliding without warning. A safeguard, though it should not have been necessary, not if the gifts had been used as the Great Watcher intended. But these barriers impede one with your gifts. I do not know how you managed to escape from the palace. From what I know of your ability, that should not have been possible.”

  “Why?”

  “There is a reason the Elvraeth claimed Ilphaesn as their own. That the earliest Elvraeth built the city so near the mountain is no coincidence.”

  “The lorcith? I can Slide to the mines, and can carry lorcith with me.” He thought of the knives he carried, of the lorcith he’d taken away from the mines. How many times had he Slid before he had even practiced much? And, many times, injured. Had he not been able to Slide with lorcith, he would have died in the mines.

  “Not the lorcith alone. There is a process that turns it into something more, something the early Elvraeth smiths created.” She saw his face. “You think the Elvraeth always secluded themselves in the palace? That they never did any work?” She laughed softly. “Such seclusion is a new thing, and Elaeavn is the worse for it.” She took a long sip of her tea. “But as to the lorcith, I cannot tell you what it is, or how you could make it, but the change creates a barrier those who can Slide cannot pass through.” She looked over at him. “Or so I thought.”

  “It’s an alloy of lorcith,” he explained.

  Della looked at him, mug pausing as she raised it to her mouth. “You already know of it.”

  He nodded, realizing this was the real reason that Della had pulled him here.

  “How did you Slide through the palace barrier, Rsiran?”

  They had never spoken about it before. When he’d emerged in her home, he said nothing of how he had escaped the palace. But why ask now?

  “I have a connection to lorcith,” he explained. “It helps me with my forgings. The lorcith seems to speak to me.”

  Della studied him for a moment. “You have told me that.”

  “Once I’ve made something, I seem to have a different connection.” He took a deep breath and pulled one of the knives from his pocket. His work at the forge had strengthened the connection. The knife hung in the air until Rsiran grabbed it and pushed it back.

  “Yes. Haern spoke of this. If I hadn’t known you were descended from the earliest smiths, this ability would tell me all I needed to know.” She shifted the scarf set around her shoulders and sighed. “A gift long thought lost, but like in so many things, the Great Watcher surprises me.” She sipped her tea and closed her eyes. “So that is how you escaped the palace?”

  “I sensed something I’d made. The knives in your home, I think. I used that connection as a sort of anchor to pull myself here.”

  “And did you do the same within the palace?”

  “Josun had stolen a sword I’d made. I think he Slid into the smithy after he learned of my ability.” Rsiran remembered his surprise at learning that Josun had stolen the sword and how easily Josun had managed to Read him. Since he’d learned to fortify his mental barriers, he wondered how easily he had been Read before. How had Josun not known of his connection to the lorcith? Or had he known, but just not understood what it meant? “He had it with him. Without the sword in the palace, I don’t think we would have found him.”

  She leaned back in her chair and placed her fingers on either side of her head, rubbing her temples. “I cannot tell what that means,” she admitted. “I did not know that a connection to the lorcith would allow you to overcome the barrier it created. I suspect that he did not, either. It is a mistake that will not be made again.”

  Rsiran froze, the cup of tea halfway to his mouth. “He died that night. Whistle dust coated my knife…”

  Della looked at him carefully. “One can survive being poisoned with whistle dust. Difficult, but not impossible.”

  Rsiran suppressed the fear he suddenly felt. Josun knew of his abilities. All of them. “But he hasn’t come for us.”

  Della leaned back and took another sip of her tea. Lines deepened around her face, shadows from the fire flickering around her. “Are you certain he hasn’t?”

  Chapter 19

  Rsiran stood in the alley outside the Wretched Barth, shade from the overcast sky protecting him as he emerged from his Slide. The air held a chill to it and smelled of a coming rain. Somewhere, a cat yowled. Rsiran listened and did not hear an answering cry.

  He shivered, wishing he had his cloak. After what Della had told him, he no longer felt safe. Even Sliding no longer left him feeling safe, especially if someone could feel the ripple of his Slide, or worse, draw him toward them. Just thinking of what could happen left him uncomfortable and anxious.

  He wanted to ask Della more questions. He had the sense that she would answer them willingly. As far as he knew, that was the reason she had drawn him to her. In all the time he’d lived in Elaeavn, he’d never had someone able to answer questions about his ability, or willing. Whatever Della’s secrets, she knew more than anyone he’d ever met.

  But he hadn’t been willing to stay behind any longer. Jessa expected him. And while he’d been at Della’s, he’d felt the shifting of the lorcith charm and knew she was closer. He couldn’t keep Jessa waiting much longer.

  Too much had changed. More than he felt capable of answering alone. Jessa tried helping, but he had the sense that she felt just as overwhelmed as he did. Haern might have Seen something, but if he had, wouldn’t he have come looking for them? And Brusus… Brusus had something else he didn’t fully share.

  But when he finally found Brusus, what would he tell him? Which came first? Did he share that they’d found someone in the warehouse? Or did he tell him that Firell had crates of unshaped lorcith on his ship? Lorcith that Firell smuggled for someone else. Or that Shael had delivered one of the crates of lorcith to his smithy—managing to sneak past the lock meant to keep him safe—so that he now had enough lorcith for whatever it was Shael wanted him to mak
e?

  Then there was Della’s fear that Josun Elvraeth still lived. And if he did, if he was the person, the part of the rebellion, that Firell aided, then none of them were safe.

  Part of him simply wanted to return to the smithy. To work the forge. Tonight, he felt as if he particularly needed to work through what he’d learned. But he would not leave Jessa waiting any longer. That, more than anything, pulled him to the Barth. Waiting did nothing other than keep her worrying. Rsiran hurried out of the alley and through the door to the Barth.

  As soon as he did, he sensed something was off.

  A lute player strummed near the back of the tavern. The fire crackled as it always did. The scent of roasting meat and bread crowded out the stink from the street outside, but a pall hung over everything, a hushed sense of quiet.

  Jessa perched on a stool along one wall. Haern sat across from her. Neither spoke. The cup of dice rested on the table, untouched.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as he approached.

  Relief washed over Jessa’s face. “You’re here. When you didn’t meet me…”

  “I’m sorry, Jessa. I… I went to see Della.” That hadn’t been his intent, but perhaps that was why Della had pulled him to her. He needed to know doing so was possible.

  Haern frowned, his eyes going distant.

  “I told you I would be there,” she said. “Were you…” She looked at Haern, but he shook his head.

  “You know that I can’t See him like the rest of you. That ability of his masks him.”

  Rsiran sat next to her and reached for her hand, only to find it trembling. “What happened?”

  Jessa turned and looked toward the end of the tavern. Normally, Lianna would be bustling behind the counter, running out food or drinks. “It’s Lianna, Rsiran. Brusus found her…”

  “Lianna?” He looked toward the kitchen, practically expecting her to come out. And then the words sunk in. “What do you mean that Brusus found her?”

  Haern met his eyes. “Near the docks. He does not think it chance that he was the one to find her.”

  “When?”

  “Just now,” Jessa said. “He won’t leave.”

  “Is she hurt? Should I get Della?”

  Haern shook his head. “It will not matter.”

  Understanding washed over him, explaining the pall over the Barth, and why everyone seemed so subdued.

  Lianna was dead.

  Everything started to jumble together. Connections that he had feared began stringing together. He and Jessa had been attacked in the warehouse. Lorcith on Firell’s ship. An Elvraeth or part of a rebellion possibly involved. And Della’s fear that Josun might live.

  No longer could he doubt that they were related.

  Rsiran stood and started toward the door of the tavern.

  “Where are you going, Rsiran?” Haern asked.

  He paused, nearly at the door. “Brusus needs us now.” Rsiran pushed open the door and didn’t bother to listen for it to close.

  Outside, the wind had picked up, whipping through the streets and carrying the heavy scent of rain. Waves crashed along the shore. After what Della had told him about Sliding, he considered walking to the docks to find Brusus. If Della could pull him as he Slid, it stood to reason that someone else could as well. With the possibility of rain, he decided against it.

  “Rsiran!”

  He turned to see Jessa. Wrinkles pulled at the corners of narrowed eyes, and her lips tightened in a pained expression. A bright yellow flower was tucked into the charm he’d made her.

  “I need to see if there’s anything I can do.”

  “Haern says he just needs space.”

  Rsiran thought about how he had felt after his father banished him. He thought he’d wanted space then, that he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. But when Brusus welcomed him to the Barth, it had meant more than anything.

  More than that. Rsiran knew Brusus, knew what he might try to do. If there was any possibility someone had hurt Lianna, Brusus would not rest until he learned who. Rsiran would feel the same if Jessa were involved.

  “He might think he needs space, but I need to see if I can help.”

  Rather than arguing, Jessa just nodded. “I’m coming. Take us past the north dock. The rocks there.” She held out her hand and waited until Rsiran took it.

  They Slid, stepping from in front of the Barth to the rocks near the shore. The docks were shadows along the shore, moonlight unable to filter through the clouds rolling down from the north.

  “Do you see him?”

  Jessa pointed to a spot down the shore.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “Just past the rocks. Before the point.”

  Rsiran Slid again, pulling Jessa with him.

  When they emerged from the Slide, the wind whistled around them. Massive waves crashed along the shore. Rsiran wondered what happened to ships in the bay during storms like this, but couldn’t see them as anything more than dark smears against the night. Firell’s ship loomed in his awareness at the pull of lorcith, though it felt far enough away that he wondered if he’d left the harbor.

  Over the sound of the wind, came a quiet sobbing. Two shapes huddled together on the ground about ten paces from them. Rsiran recognized Brusus’s heavy brown cloak as it fluttered in the wind. He leaned over the other figure—Lianna—cradling her head.

  “Brusus?” he asked, stepping toward him.

  Jessa stayed back. Brusus didn’t look up.

  Rsiran crouched next to Brusus and looked at the body lying on the rocks. The decorative lorcith fork she’d used to hold her hair up lay on the stones. He understood why Haern said Della couldn’t help.

  “Brusus?”

  “She’s gone,” he whispered.

  Sorrow filled his voice; pain that Rsiran recognized. This was how he would feel if anything happened to Jessa.

  “What happened?”

  Brusus shook his head and looked behind him at massive towers of rocks, slowly rising to the north as they climbed out of the city. Rsiran knew of no way to reach the top of those fingers of rock. No way other than Sliding there. Even that carried the same dangers he experienced while making his way along Ilphaesn.

  “She fell.”

  “How could she fall?”

  “She was meant for me to find. This is a message to me. I have been digging too deep, pushing too hard.” He swallowed and looked down at Lianna. “She should not have been here. But they knew I would understand.”

  “Would she have come here on her own?” he asked.

  Brusus shook his head. “I don’t think she did.”

  “Then how did you find her?” Without Sliding, Rsiran had no idea how they could reach this strip of shoreline easily. And knew of no reason to come here otherwise.

  “We were supposed to meet here,” Brusus said softly.

  Brusus did not need to explain any more than that. This was their spot. A place for Brusus and Lianna to be together. A place that should have been safe.

  “You think she was killed.”

  Brusus looked at him for a moment before turning back to run his hand through her hair. “I’m certain of it.”

  Rain started then. First soft, but quickly picking up strength until it sleeted down on them like sharp needles. Distant thunder rolled in over the harbor, washing across the water. Flashes of lightning streaked through the clouds.

  Rsiran shivered. “You can’t stay here, Brusus.”

  “I’m not leaving without her.”

  Rsiran would have felt the same were it Jessa. Now, more than ever, he knew he could not let her be a part of whatever happened. Regardless of what she said, how angry it made her, he would keep her safe. “At least let me help.”

  Brusus sucked in a big shivering breath as he nodded.

  Together, they scooped their arms underneath Lianna and lifted. “Where should we take her?”

  Brusus swallowed. “The Aisl. That is where she would want to go.”

>   The Aisl was where all of their people were buried. A tradition that had not changed, though they had moved away from the trees and out to the edge of the water. But Servants of the Great Watcher would not let them just appear in the midst of the burial grounds. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  The look Brusus gave him nearly broke his heart.

  “Where else is she to go? She needs to be returned to the forest. That is custom.”

  Jessa settled her hand on his arm. He hadn’t noticed her coming up behind him.

  “I don’t think Rsiran should Slide us there. We can walk her out. Take her to the Servants. They will see her properly buried.”

  Brusus shook his head. “And then they will ask questions. Constables will come.” He looked at Rsiran, eyes pleading. “I will not be allowed to be there as she is returned to the earth.”

  “There is a place I know,” Rsiran said. He’d been there before and often enough that he should be able to reach it again.

  Jessa pulled on his arm. “This is too much for you,” she whispered. “There are times when taking the two of us taxes you too much. Let’s find another way.”

  Rsiran had never tried Sliding this many at once. It would stretch him, and possibly he could not do it. But watching Brusus, seeing his devastated face, tears mixing with the rain, he knew he needed to try. For Brusus, he was willing to risk it.

  “I can do this.”

  Jessa gripped his arm. The way she squeezed told Rsiran, Be careful.

  “I can do this,” he told her again.

  Jessa didn’t say anything. The look in her eyes was a quiet warning that she feared for him. But she did not let go of his arm. She wouldn’t leave him alone for this. And he wouldn’t let her, even if it might be easier.

  Rsiran and Brusus both held onto Lianna as he Slid.

  The effort felt unlike anything he had ever tried. The closest he had to compare it to was the effort of Sliding into the palace. And that had felt as if something pushed against him, trying to keep him out of the palace.

  It felt as if a massive force pressed down upon him, like the weight of the ocean. And yet… Rsiran feared stopping, not knowing what would happen if he ended the Slide too soon.

 

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