Festival of Mourn (The Dark Sorcerer Book 1)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “I’m going to get more wine,” Eva announced, getting to her feet.

  Jayna stared at her, watching as Eva sauntered over to Master Nev, before turning her attention back to the volar.

  Who were now watching her.

  “Damn,” she muttered.

  One of them pulled something from underneath his cloak, aiming at her.

  A crossbow.

  Pain surged in her leg. She looked down, blinking, and realized she had been shot.

  The two men jumped to their feet and raced to the door.

  Jayna staggered after them.

  Pain continued surging along her leg, hot and burning.

  “Eva!”

  Eva remained locked in conversation with Master Nev, a full glass of wine in one hand.

  Jayna staggered into the street, looking for the two men.

  Something whizzed toward her, and she jerked her head back just in time.

  Another crossbow bolt sank into the stone near where she’d just been. She staggered forward, yanking the first bolt out of her leg, wincing in pain. She pressed her hand down upon the wound. She could dress it when she got back to the home, or she could try sending a surge of magic through it. She didn’t like turning her magic upon herself.

  A shout rang out.

  Jayna staggered forward, rounding a corner, her leg throbbing.

  A young couple blocked her way. The woman had auburn hair, and she was leaning close to the man, murmuring to him. If Jayna were to blast through them, she could target the volar, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

  She staggered forward again, stumbling for a moment, then sprawled on the ground. The couple ignored her, and by the time she got to her feet, she had missed her opportunity.

  There was no sign of the volar.

  She stood in place, then traced a quick pattern, a tracking spell, and infused it with just a little bit of power—not so much that it would alert any of the Sorcerers’ Society, but hopefully enough for her to detect the volar. They couldn’t have gone that far.

  In her irritation, she infused more power into it than she had intended.

  There came a strange pressure along her skin.

  Sorcery.

  Someone had realized what she had done.

  She released the tracking spell and limped back toward the Wandering Ten. She yanked the other crossbow bolt out of the stone and stepped inside. The murmur of activity remained, and it seemed as if no one in the tavern cared that someone had been shot here. They might not even know. It would at least explain why the volar had wanted to come here, of all places.

  She sank down at the table where the volar had been.

  Eva took a seat, holding her glass of wine in one hand, the bottle in the other. “Where did you go?”

  “The bastard shot me.” She brought her bloodied hand up, holding it out to Eva. “And you could have helped me stop them.”

  “I have, but this is your assignment, isn’t it?”

  Jayna glowered at her for a moment then looked down.

  There was a scrap of paper on the table.

  The men had left it behind.

  She lifted the paper, staring at it for a moment.

  “What is it?”

  She tapped on it. “The symbol. Or pattern. I don’t really know. I’ve seen it before.”

  “Where have you seen it?” Eva asked, tipping back the glass of wine and finishing it in a long gulp.

  “On the note my brother left me.”

  3

  Jayna woke from a deep slumber to the sound of pounding. She had been dreaming. She had begun to see her brother in her dreams lately, as if he were still there, some part of him waiting for her. Jayna knew, even while sleeping, that it was nothing more than a dream. Her brother had been watching her in the dream, smiling, motioning for her to follow him down a darkened path where he disappeared. When she chased him, he had faded from view altogether, leaving her grasping at nothing but dark shadows.

  When she sat up, her heart raced.

  The experience of chasing the volar might have informed the dream of chasing her brother. Her leg still throbbed. She had resisted the urge to use too much magic in healing herself. She had used some as she had wrapped and dressed the wound, but not that much, as she had only a little experience with healing.

  And she had more experience with it these days than she had while at the Academy. All students had an opportunity to learn some healing while in the Academy, but Jayna had never mastered more than the basics. Small wounds were easier for her than anything complex. Unfortunately, she had been forced to push herself during her service to Ceran, trying to master the healing side of sorcery not only for herself, but for others, including Eva.

  The pounding persisted.

  Having seen the same symbol that had been on the letter Jonathan sent her, Jayna wasn't at all surprised that she would think of him in her dreams.

  The pounding came again.

  It wasn't her head. She wasn't that injured.

  She looked around the room. The two back bedrooms in the home were both small. The stone walls were damp with moisture, and the ceiling was low enough that she always feared she might conk her head if she stood too quickly, though she never did. Jayna was not tall enough. Her brother was, though; Jonathan practically towered over her. Despite its small size, however, the home was a useful place, and all that she had managed to afford in the time she’d been in the city.

  The bed was narrow, and as she sat on its edge, her feet touching the cool stone floor, she steadied her breathing. Her right thigh still throbbed from the crossbow bolt, and as she sat up, looking through the darkness, she wondered if maybe the pain was what caused the pounding in her head.

  But that didn’t seem to be the case either.

  It came from the kitchen.

  She dressed slowly, pulling on clean pants, wincing as the fabric brushed up against the injury on her thigh, and pulled open the door to her room, then staggered down the hall. She popped out to see Eva holding on to a fire poker, jabbing it at a blond-haired man stumbling around the room. His pale blue eyes were wide, and he flailed, spinning in place.

  “Do you care to tell me what’s going on?”

  Eva stabbed the poker at the man, and he continued waving his hands, not at all mindful of the danger of the weapon Eva held. He was tall enough that he had to bend his head, and it still brushed up against the ceiling of the house.

  “This idiot was at the door. I found him lying on the ground in front of it, curled up. Considering what we went through last night, I thought maybe he was with the volar.” She jabbed at him again, nearly impaling him with the poker. If she did, Jayna would have something else to repair. “When he came around, he barged into the house and then he started doing this. I still can’t tell if he’s with them.”

  Jayna rubbed the sleep from her eyes, finally seeing the kitchen. The table had been upended, and everything within the cabinets was scattered. Scraps of fabric Eva had been mending looked as if they were shredded by claws, left in a pile near the chair. One of the chairs was broken. They had precious little as it was, and losing even a single chair was frustrating.

  “I’ve got this,” Eva said. “You can go back to bed.”

  “I’m not leaving you out here with some strange man.”

  “He’s just drunk.”

  Jayna glanced to her, arching a brow, biting back the first comment that came to her.

  The man was several inches taller than Jayna, with a youthful-looking face and a hint of a beard, though the wispy kind that looked more like a five o’clock shadow. He flailed, his arms spinning in place, and he reeked of ale. He was pretty, in a young sort of way.

  “I doubt he’s with the volar smelling like that. How about we just put him back outside since he’s drunk?”

  “I’ve been trying to get him outside. The fool doesn’t seem to pay any attention when I poke him.”

  “Maybe you need to poke him a little harder.”
>
  Eva shot her a look. “I’ve been trying to poke him a little harder, but he doesn’t seem to care. What kind of idiot doesn’t care about a poker jabbing into his belly?”

  “We could put it into the fire,” Jayna suggested. All she wanted was to sleep, and she couldn’t do that until she got rid of this man.

  “Then you’d have something else to heal.” Eva turned her attention to the man. “And here I was just trying to help, and he goes about doing this?” She jabbed him again. The man opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he staggered, turning toward Jayna.

  Jayna noticed something about the man when he looked at her. His eyes looked blank. “I don’t think this is just ale,” she muttered. “Help me guide him.”

  She grabbed for the broken end of the chair, pulling it up and jabbing at the man. Between the two of them, they kept him trapped in the middle of the kitchen. He couldn’t do any more damage. She wasn’t about to have him tear up one of her stuffed chairs. She wouldn’t be able to find anything quite as comfortable.

  “Where do you want him to go?” Eva asked.

  “I thought sending him back outside might make the most sense, but now . . .”

  Seeing the strange look on his face left her wondering if perhaps that was the wrong plan. He didn’t look as if he were in his right mind—something seemed off, and it was more than just the ale. She needed to try to use a little bit of power on him, but as she held her hand up, she didn’t detect any magic coming from him.

  She tried a bit of sorcery. It was somewhat dangerous to do, especially in the city here, but she figured that at this point in the night, she didn’t have to fear that anyone in the Sorcerers’ Society would detect her use of power. At least, she hoped they wouldn’t detect her use of power. Given how tired she was, she thought it was still late in the night, but didn’t know for sure.

  “We have to try to help him,” Jayna groaned.

  She couldn't shake a nagging worry about this man. It didn't strike her as typical sorcery, which left her worried that maybe he was affected by something else. Perhaps dark magic, though she had never seen it used like this.

  “The festival . . .”

  His words were slurred and had a hint of an accent.

  She looked at Eva, locking eyes with her for a moment.

  “You heard him say ‘festival’—”

  She didn’t get a chance to do anything else. The man collapsed.

  His body twitched, then went rigid, and his eyes fluttered back in his head.

  Jayna shared a look with Eva. She was still wearing the pale white dress she had worn earlier in the night, though it now looked as if it had a stain on one sleeve. Wine. Jayna shook her head. Eva enjoyed having wine far too late in the evening, and there were too many nights when Jayna had found Eva passed out in front of the fire. Given what it looked like Eva had gone through before she had met Jayna, she never said anything to her, though she worried about her mindset.

  “Are you going to be able to help?” Jayna asked.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Eva snapped.

  She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She didn’t want to antagonize her friend. That wasn’t the purpose of this. “Can you help me get him on the cot?” She nodded to the small cot stowed near the back wall where Eva would sleep when she didn’t fall asleep in the chair near the hearth.

  “You can do it,” Eva said.

  “Eva!”

  She tossed the fire poker off to the side and grabbed the man by the legs, leaving his arms and upper body for Jayna. They dragged him over to the cot, and Eva set him down while she unfolded it, propping the support beam underneath. Once done, Eva tossed the man’s legs up on the cot, leaving his torso collapsed on the ground. Jayna grunted, dragging him as much as she could until she got the rest of him onto the cot.

  Her Academy training now kicked in.

  There were aspects of magic she could use to help him, but that wasn’t what she wanted to try. Academy training involved natural magic as well, and she thought that was the most important to focus on. She tested his circulation. It was one of the first lessons her instructors and apothecary medicine had taught, wanting to ensure she knew how to feel for a pulse. It was one of the most important lessons. Circulation. Breathing. Without either of those, there would be no survival.

  She tested the large artery in his neck, and could feel the blood pumping regularly. There was the strong stench of ale on him, though as she worked her hands along his sides, down across his legs, then back up his arms, she didn’t feel anything wrong with him. Nothing physical, at least.

  “Help me peel back his jacket,” Jayna said.

  Eva stared at her.

  Jayna wanted to sigh. This was the side of Eva she didn’t like. It was the self-destructive side. She’d probably had too much to drink, and maybe she’d said something to the man when he’d come in. She tended to do that, especially when drinking.

  “Please,” Jayna said. “I just need a little bit of help.”

  “Fine,” Eva said.

  They grabbed the man’s gray jacket and started yanking. The fabric ripped, and Jayna shot Eva a look that she ignored. As they peeled back his jacket, leaving his shirt remaining, Jayna took a step back. He was breathing. He had circulation. Which meant they had time.

  She moved the pale white shirt off to one side, examining his stomach and chest. He was muscular, more so than she had realized, and Eva traced her finger along his belly.

  “What are you doing?”

  “He’s just so . . . pretty,” Eva said.

  Now her words were slurring.

  How much had she drank?

  The man had a deep purple bruise on his belly, and Jayna rolled him on his side, looking at his back. There was another one there.

  “I think he just drank too much,” Eva said.

  “Like you’re one to talk.”

  “I’m not like that,” Eva said. “He smells terrible.”

  Maybe that was all it was, though when he had come into their home, he’d been agitated in a way that couldn’t fully be explained by too much ale. She’d seen people do foolish things when it came to ale, including Eva on far too many occasions, but she didn’t know if that was really all it was. Something didn’t feel quite right.

  Her training had prepared her to recognize illness, and she had seen enough people who ended up with strange afflictions, especially those of the less common variety. Working within the Academy had exposed her to all sorts of bizarre things. It was entirely possible that this man had been affected by something similarly unusual.

  “What are you doing?” Eva asked.

  Jayna reached into her pocket and pulled out the dragon stone ring, slipping it on her finger. “I’m just trying to see if there’s anything more than what I can tell otherwise.” She held it up against the man’s chest and connected to the dragon stone.

  Jayna held her hand in place, focusing on the man. His entire body was rigid. There was a sheen of sweat along his brow. He looked as if he were exerting himself.

  She needed to know what was going on.

  There was one way she could quickly learn, but it was not necessarily easy. More than that, if anyone were paying attention to the power she summoned, she could be discovered. She didn’t need sorcerers discovering that she was still attempting to use her power. Still, she couldn’t leave this man to suffer.

  She took a deep breath, focusing on the dragon stone, and pushed power out through it, pouring it into the man. It was more than what she used to heal herself. When she had sealed off the wound in her thigh, she had done so by simply using the stone itself, not by drawing power from herself. In order to detect what was wrong with him, she required her own intrinsic magic.

  “You shouldn’t do this,” Eva said, backing away.

  Jayna glanced over to her. “I’m not going to abandon him. It’s no different from what I did for you.”

  As she looked over to the man, a terr
ible thought came to her. Hopefully this man wouldn’t decide he owed Jayna a life debt the way Eva had. He obviously needed help. She had no idea what was going on, but she couldn’t blame him for panicking after waking up with Eva standing over him. She could imagine Eva holding the fire poker the way she had when Jayna had come out of her bedroom, and how this stranger would have reacted.

  She didn’t want to use the dragon stone on him unless she could help it but she had little choice. There were some who could detect Toral power used, and she’d learned to be careful. Unfortunately, there were limits to what she could do without it. Before doing anything else, she had to know if it was more than just a physical ailment. She had to know if it was something magical. When someone pressed power out, it left a trail, but she couldn’t detect anything. Maybe a void, but nothing more than that.

  “I don’t detect anything,” Jayna muttered.

  “I have something you can try,” Eva said.

  She stumbled away from the cot, heading to one of the back rooms.

  “What are you going to do?”

  Eva waved her hand and disappeared.

  Jayna leaned over, trailing her hands over the man’s sides, testing for injury, but not finding anything. Not that she actually expected to. Other than the bruising, she hadn’t seen anything wrong with him. He didn’t look injured. As Eva had said, maybe this was nothing more than intoxication. If that were the case, then did she really need to do anything more to help him? He could sleep it off.

  Eva stumbled back into the room carrying a small leather trunk. The surface was faded and cracked, and Jayna had only seen that trunk a few times before.

  “Eva?”

  “You’re right. We have to help him,” she muttered.

  She set the trunk down and flipped it open.

  Jayna looked inside and saw several small metal objects, each of them in different shapes. Enchantments for the most part. Those who created them would be called enchanters in her homeland, but in Nelar they were known as dular.