The Dark Ability: Books 1-4

by D. K. Holmberg

  Krali had always been a place for him to go to relax. The first time he’d Slid, he’d somehow ended atop Krali Rock. Perhaps he’d ended here because of how often he’d looked up, wondering how hard it would be to climb. Or maybe there had been another reason. Could he have been pulled, drawn to Krali as Della pulled him? That line of thinking only frightened him.

  Yet, none of that was why he’d come. He needed to be free of distractions, free of anything that would affect his ability to sense the sword.

  Rsiran closed his eyes and listened. As he did, he pushed away the lorcith he felt all around him. That coming from the knives in his pockets. The lorcith now hidden in Brusus’s home. Even the unshaped lorcith that called to him from within his smithy. He pushed all of it back. In the distance far to the north, he felt the pull of the lorcith buried there. This was pushed deep and away too. Nothing remained other than the muted hum of the alloy in the palace and the faraway sense of the sword.

  Before Sliding, he let worry slip through him for one last time. How long had Jessa been gone? Would he be able to reach her in time? Had Josun already harmed her?

  But then anger seethed within him. That Josun thought to manipulate him—to harm someone he cared about again—left him practically shaking. Rsiran took a few calming breaths, pushing those emotions down to hide near the other sense of lorcith.

  And then he Slid.

  This time, he emerged atop Ilphaesn, standing along the narrow path that he’d stood on with Jessa. The wind changed but still whistled, pulling on him and tearing at his clothes. A few spindly trees lined the low road leading up to the peak. On the road below him would be the small village outside the mines, but Rsiran had been careful not to emerge too close to the village. The only time he’d been through it had been on his way to Ilphaesn, and that had been during the day. He wouldn’t risk someone out at night seeing and reporting him.

  Standing this close to Ilphaesn, he felt the pull of the lorcith deep in the mines more strongly than ever before. How much of that came from working with lorcith, forging it into shapes the metal preferred, and how much came from him focusing on using the lorcith, anchoring to it over the last few weeks?

  He focused his thoughts again, quickly shoving away all sense of lorcith as he had before. Each time he did it, the process became easier. Always he knew it would return. After Sliding, the sense of lorcith always returned.

  And then he felt the sword again. Still farther north.

  Rsiran had never traveled any farther than Ilphaesn. Sliding from here carried more risk, just like Sliding blindly onto Firell’s ship or into the space between the crates. Only this time, if he emerged someplace he didn’t intend, he could be trapped and Jessa would never be freed.

  He couldn’t risk Sliding all the way to the sword. If Josun sat waiting for him, expecting him to follow the pull of the sword, then he might have something planned. Rsiran didn’t intend to fall into Josun’s trap.

  He would have to Slide slowly, carefully. It would take more strength than a single Slide, but he couldn’t risk Sliding blindly.

  At least all the times he’d been Sliding with Jessa had built his strength. Even now, Sliding to Krali and then to Ilphaesn left him barely feeling the effects. Though the sword was closer, it was still not significantly closer. To reach it, he would have to Slide greater distances than he’d ever attempted.

  Rsiran scanned the horizon. To his left, nothing but wild land stretched from the base of Ilphaesn. The rock of the mountain slowly rolled toward grassy plains stretching as far as he could see. If there had been more light, he might have been able to see farther into the distance.

  To the other side of him rolled the angry Lhear Sea as it crashed against distant rocks. Somewhere nearby, he felt the muted sense of the alloy barricading the other mine entrance.

  And then there was Elaeavn. Standing atop Ilphaesn, he saw it as a twinkle of distant lights, no more than stars in the sky. From here, the city looked small and safe, nothing like what he knew it to be.

  Rsiran hesitated, but waiting did nothing except leave Jessa in danger. Holding onto the sense of the sword, using it as a compass to guide him, he Slid as far as he felt safe.

  This time, he emerged standing in a clump of massive dry grasses. The wind swished them around him. The air smelled of dirt and dust, tickling his nose. A low howl rose into the air, and a dark shape circled overhead.

  Rsiran fixed his eyes to the north and Slid again.

  And again. And again.

  Each Slide took him closer to the sword. In spite of Sliding, he felt as if he moved slowly, barely drawing closer to the sense of the sword. With each Slide, he had to focus, push away the sense of the other lorcith he felt, until all he knew was the sword. At one stop, he sensed the distant awareness of unshaped lorcith nearby, but ignored it as he moved on. At another, he knew several of his forgings were close.

  He paused near a wide river burbling over rocks. A few short trees lined the river, twisted limbs covered with long, thin leaves. He had used the trees to guide his Sliding, emerging alongside one. Rsiran rested his hand on the trunk. The bark felt smooth, similar to the sjihn trees of the Aisl, but these were nothing like those massive trees. He leaned and took a drink from the stream, his heart beating as if he’d just run a long distance. The effects of Sliding as far as he had began to strain him.

  As he pushed away the lorcith again, the sword loomed closer.

  So far, he hadn’t seen sign of anyone else. No other villages or cities since Sliding past Ilphaesn. That should reassure him, but a nagging worry sat in his mind. What was Josun’s plan in drawing Rsiran out of the city, away from Elaeavn? There had to be something else, more than simply taking Jessa. With Lianna, he had killed her. Whether as a message or for another reason, Rsiran didn’t know. Might he have already done the same with Jessa?

  He stepped away from the trees to Slide across the river. The ground sloped down and away, giving him a better vantage. Far in the distance, a soft glow seemed to dome up from the ground, spreading out around in each direction like a massive lantern. It took him a few moments to realize what he saw: Light, rising up from a city.

  He paused, listening again for the sword. Still distant, but not that distant anymore.

  The city. That was where he’d taken the sword. But why?

  Rsiran Slid, emerging far from the river. Now the lights from the city burned brighter. Shadows from buildings contrasted with the darkness of night, rising from the flat land like dark fingers.

  Now he sensed lorcith of all kinds. His forgings. Unshaped lorcith. Even the muted draw from the alloy. All of it he pushed away until he sensed only the sword.

  Now it was close.

  He Slid again, more cautiously this time, and emerged near a clump of strange trees with sharp needles. They smelled sharp and reminded him of the powders in Della’s home. A flock of birds resting in the tree fluttered to flight as he emerged. A lone howl erupted to the south.

  The fat moon hung low and bright in the sky, finally freed of the clouds that had been blocking it for most of the night. Nearby, a wide road twisted around a low hillside, winding down into the city. A low wall ran around the outer edge of the city, disappearing in either direction over the slowly rising hills. Low grasses filled the fields, swishing softly in the gentle breeze. A few wide bushes dotted the field, some with flowers blooming bright against the moonlight. The sight of the flowers made his heart clench.

  In only a moment, he pushed away all sense of lorcith. The sword felt nearby.

  Rsiran almost Slid to it. Now, he no longer needed to suppress the other lorcith he felt. He sensed it as easily as he did in Elaeavn. So close, and he could simply Slide to it. If Jessa was there, he would rescue her and Slide back to Elaeavn.

  Then the hard work would begin.

  But Sliding now meant going blindly. Jessa depended on him reaching her, so he needed to be cautious. It wasn’t just that he didn’t know where he would end up, but what if
he emerged only to find a group of people?

  As much as he hated it, he needed to move carefully.

  Rsiran took a deep breath. The air tasted cool and clear, different from in Elaeavn. Then he Slid past the wall and emerged in the city.

  The low buildings on the other side of the wall looked nothing like those throughout most of Elaeavn. None butted against another. Each looked low roofed and built of thick timbers rather than stone. Slate roofs with overlapping seams arched high over him. Some were nearly as tall as the two-story homes he’d seen in Elaeavn. Small windows in each home were thrown open, letting the night breeze blow in. Down the street, a candle flickered. Stout doors blocked entrance to each building. Homes, but nothing like what he saw in Elaeavn.

  Rsiran Slid down the street, not bothering to mask his ability. No one else walked the streets, leaving him in an eerie sort of silence. The breeze blowing from the west caused the buildings to groan every so often, but for the most part, all he heard were his steady breaths.

  The buildings began to run together, their peaks rising higher than those nearest the wall. Chimneys rose from the top of most. Smoke billowed out of some, lazily winding into the sky before disappearing. Unlike nearer the outer wall, windows were shuttered.

  The sword was closer.

  Again he Slid. This time, he emerged in a grassy clearing. Signs hung in front of the surrounding buildings, reminding him of the shops in Upper Town, most painted with pictures and scrawling letters that he couldn’t quite read in the dark.

  Rsiran listened again for the sword. Closer, but he wasn’t there yet. He Slid.

  When he emerged, he could tell that the sword was close.

  Rsiran walked. The cobbled street felt strange beneath his feet after all the time he’d spent Sliding through the night. He’d lost track of how many times he’d Slid. More than he’d ever done all at one time. How much longer could he keep it up? How much longer before he pushed himself too far?

  Fatigue began to threaten him, but he refused to let it overwhelm him. Once he found the sword—and Jessa—he would need strength enough to Slide her to safety. Whether that meant back to Elaeavn or simply out of the city, he didn’t know. He would do what he needed.

  At the building with the wide chimney, he felt the sword on the other side. Rsiran moved out of the street and walked toward the long window running the length of the building. Thick shades covered the glass, blocking his view. He set his hand on the window and listened. Other than his sword, he felt nothing. Heard nothing.

  Here was where he would have to take a chance.

  After taking a deep breath, Rsiran Slid past the window.

  The building was darkened, but enough light from fading coals in a massive hearth lit the room. A bench ran along the far wall on which familiar tools were neatly hung. A gleaming anvil rested near the hearth. Even the air smelled familiar, that of hot coals and metal mixed with sweat from a hard day’s work.

  A smithy.

  Rsiran hesitated. Why had Josun brought the sword here?

  Nothing moved in the smithy. Coals crackled softly, a bin of charcoal and thick logs stacked along one wall near the forge. Otherwise… nothing.

  He looked around, listening for the sword. The sense of the lorcith guided him to where it rested on the table, lying out in the open as if it should be there. Rsiran knew without looking that this was his sword. The soft curve to the blade, the way the metal folded just enough to make it appear that it flowed. Even the jeweled hilt told him it was his. But his mark confirmed it. His initials, tightly inscribed along the lower edge, a clear sign of his work.

  But no sign of Jessa.

  After successfully Sliding this far, following the sense of the sword, he’d expected to find Jessa here too. But he should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. Not with Josun involved. But if she was not here, why had Josun left the sword here?

  No answer came to him.

  Rsiran grabbed the sword. He would not leave it. He needed a sheath, some way to carry it, though unlike the Neelish sellswords, he had no idea how to use a sword. Were anyone to find him, he’d be better off throwing the sword at them than trying to fight them off with it.

  Where was Jessa?

  And why had Josun brought the sword to this city—so far to the north that it was likely Asador? Had Josun just wanted him out of the city? But why, and was this where he sent the lorcith? If so, how did that help him?

  And if Jessa wasn’t here, then where? Would Josun have taken her back to Elaeavn?

  Rsiran leaned against the table in the smithy. He could return to Elaeavn. Maybe search for Jessa there. Better to find Brusus, have him help. Or Haern might be able to See something.

  But a nagging worry told him that Jessa had already been gone too long.

  The only other thing he could think of was the charm he’d made her. Could he sense the charm now that he had the sword? Only if she was still nearby, if at all.

  The darkness of the smithy helped put him back in the mindset of being back in the mines, nothing but darkness around him, the sense of lorcith all around. He took a few calming breaths, struggling to push back the fear and anger raging through him, and listen only for the lorcith.

  He felt the sword like a fiery beacon in his mind. And then… nearby he sensed other lorcith he’d forged. Knives mostly. Somewhere in the city. Could they be knives Jessa carried? But no… the lorcith sounded different, sang to him differently.

  Then he started pushing back the sense of lorcith. The sword went first. Now that he possessed it again, he pushed back the awareness of it in his mind. The knives he carried went next. And then the other shaped lorcith throughout the city. All pushed into the background.

  He listened.

  There was a sense of unshaped lorcith, calling to him. Not large quantities, nothing like he felt near Ilphaesn or nearly as much as he’d felt on Firell’s ship, but unshaped nonetheless. Some was very close. This was where Firell brought it, he was certain. He pushed that away as well.

  The muted sound of the alloy thrummed against him too. He heard it nearby and frowned as he pushed that back as well.

  And then there was nothing. No sense of lorcith. Not even a tiny dredge of a sense.

  Rsiran held his breath. Waiting.

  The charm would not pull on him very strongly, if at all. And possibly, he was too far away to sense it anyway. But he strained, listening, listening, listening for the barest hint.

  There was nothing.

  He took a deep breath. Lorcith flooded around him, filling him again with awareness. Each time he pushed it away, it seemed to bounce back stronger.

  Something that he’d realized when listening for the charm made his eyes snap open.

  This smithy had lorcith.

  Following what he’d sensed, he made his way toward the stacks of metal. Shuffling past steel and iron, he came across square blocks of grindl and copper. Another block of brown that he didn’t recognize. And then a large rectangular block of metal.

  Rsiran grabbed the block and pressed his thumb deep into the metal. It felt soft, just like the lump he’d found in the warehouse. He slipped it into his pocket.

  Beneath it was a dull grey lump of lorcith larger than many he’d seen while working for his father in the smithy, but not as large as those he’d found in the mines. Rsiran hefted it, twisting it in his hand. Light from the coals caught the dull surface.

  But why would lorcith be found in a smithy unless the smith could work it? Outside of Elaeavn, there shouldn’t be any smiths that could work with lorcith.

  Several other lumps of lorcith sat beneath it. These weren’t the only ones he sensed in the city. That meant other smiths had unshaped lorcith. Did they have the silver-like metal as well? Whatever this metal was, it combined with lorcith to create the alloy.

  But if that were true, did that mean these smiths tried to make the alloy? Would they know the secret the alchemists guarded?

  Even if they did, he still didn’
t know why. Why would Josun and those with him need the alloy? For what purpose? It prevented Sliding, locked out Josun just as easily as it locked out Rsiran. And if that were the case, why would he want that?

  Had Rsiran been wrong? Was it not Josun he’d overheard on Firell’s ship? Did he chase a different Slider? But if that was the case, how would they have known about Jessa? How would they have known about the sword?

  And then there was the other sense he felt when he’d pushed away lorcith. The alloy was somewhere in the city. With a sudden fluttering in his heart, he wondered…could it be enough to mask the lorcith in the charm? Enough to hide Jessa from him?

  He would not leave this city until he knew.

  Chapter 29

  Rsiran Slid from the smithy. The metal block in his pocket weighed heavily, almost dragging him as he attempted the Slide. When he emerged, he stood again on the street in front of the smithy. Nothing moved. A cat meowed once and he waited, but the sound didn’t come again. Would the luck be the same here as it was in Elaeavn?

  Rsiran held the sword in one hand, feeling awkward standing in the street with a full sword. If caught in Elaeavn with it, there would be consequences. Only the constables were allowed swords, and apparently, the sellswords, but would it be the same outside of Elaeavn?

  He checked down the street and then pushed away all awareness of lorcith, listening for the alloy. Within moments, he felt it. First as a soft tug upon his senses, then stronger.

  The sense came from nearby. Rsiran trailed after it, listening. Were he to Slide, he might lose the connection to it.

  Darkness shrouded the street as he made his way along it. The alloy pulled him, calling softly, its voice muted like coming through a thick wall. As he followed the sense, he allowed himself the hope that Jessa might be trapped inside. If his sword had been here, why not Jessa?

  At an intersection, the sense of the alloy pulled him to the right. Overhead, the heavy moon began to sink past the peaked slate rooftops. A shadow flickered along one and he paused, but nothing else moved. Maybe a bat or the cat he’d heard earlier now prowling.