The Tower of Venass (The Dark Ability Book 3)

by Holmberg, D. K.

  “What is it? What do you see?”

  “That’s just it. I don’t know.”

  The scholar chuckled softly, sounding almost like a growl. “You will pardon the darkness. This is a room of solitude,” he said as if in answer.

  Rsiran thought he understood what troubled Jessa. Like he’d been trapped in the cell without the ability to Slide, Jessa couldn’t see into the darkness any better than he could.

  How could the scholars counter their abilities?

  And why would they need to? “Why did you bring us here?”

  “As I’ve said, you brought yourself here, Mr. Lareth. You sought our aid.”

  Rsiran shook his head, studying the walls around him, but unable for his eyes to pierce the shadows. “I didn’t come seeking aid. Only an antidote.”

  “Is that not aid?”

  Rsiran didn’t like what that implied. Would he owe something to the scholars if he accepted the antidote?

  “And you have something that will help?”

  A smile twisted the scholar’s lips, pulling on the lorcith piercing in a way that left his face twisted and grotesque. Something about the smile reminded him of the way Thom had smiled at him.

  “There is always something that can help. You must be willing to pay the price.”

  Next to him, Jessa squinted, trying to peer into the darkness. Shadows slipped around the strange room, shifting with the clouds rolling over the moon, changing the moonlight in ways that looked almost unnatural.

  “What price?”

  “You have only been brought this far because you can travel. Others will wish to study, to learn how you managed to leave that room. That is the price.”

  Jessa squeezed his hand hard. He looked over and saw her shaking her head.

  “Don’t do it, Rsiran. You don’t know what they will do to you.”

  “Do? We wish to understand, that is all. He will be unharmed.”

  Rsiran studied the scholar and then turned to Jessa. “Isn’t this what we came for?” he asked. “If we find an antidote, Brusus will be healed.”

  “But what of you? What price will you pay for him?”

  “Wouldn’t Brusus do the same for us?” he whispered.

  “Would he? What happened when I was captured?” she whispered. “How hard did Brusus look? Where was his sacrifice then?” She looked around. “I think you should take us from this place, Rsiran. See if…” She lowered her voice. “See if he’s been healed.”

  Rsiran considered how much time had been spent just reaching the Tower of Scholars, the strain he’d placed on himself Sliding here. Were they to return to Elaeavn to see if Della had managed to Heal Brusus, Rsiran doubted he would have the strength needed to return here, especially considering how difficult it had been to escape from the room in which he’d been held.

  And would they even allow him to return? Something told him that he and Jessa had only been granted access. He might find the Tower blocked to him, as he’d once found the Floating Palace.

  “If I don’t accept this offer now, it won’t be offered again, will it?”

  The scholar’s mouth twisted. “You are insightful, Mr. Lareth.”

  He looked back to Jessa. “For Brusus… we have to accept the exchange. It might be his only chance.”

  She leaned into him, and he felt her trembling softly against him. “I don’t want to lose you.” She whispered softly so that he would be the only one who could hear. “When they said you were kept in a room and all you had to do was escape, I… I…” She shook her head. “There wasn’t anything I could do but wait. I don’t think I can stand waiting again.”

  Rsiran would do anything to keep Jessa safe. But he owed Brusus. And this was something he could do. If all they wanted was to study him, then Rsiran would have to risk it.

  “For Brusus,” he whispered to Jessa. Then, he turned to the scholar. “I accept.”

  The scholar walked away from them, disappearing into the shadows. There was a sound like that of whispering, though it seemed mixed with a strange scratching. Then the scholar returned, clutching a dark bottle made of wood against his robes. When he reached them, he held it out.

  Rsiran hesitantly took it. As his hand curled around the bottle, the scholar’s mouth twisted in a dark smile. Rsiran shivered, wondering what, exactly, he’d just agreed to.

  Chapter 17

  The scholar walked them down different stairs that slowly widened, opening into a grand staircase as it descended from the strange room. Rsiran carried the heavy wooden bottle capped with wax. A dark rune had been burned into the surface. He traced his finger around the rune as they walked.

  Jessa walked next to him in silence.

  Rsiran couldn’t help but think he’d made a mistake. What if Della managed to Heal Brusus? Then everything he’d done would’ve been unnecessary. But if she hadn’t and Rsiran managed to bring an antidote to her… would it have been worth it?

  Only time would divulge that answer. Time, and learning exactly what the scholars wanted from him.

  The scholar said nothing more until they reached the landing at the bottom of the stairs. Another set of wide, lorcith-forged doors stood closed in front of them. In the light of the pale blue sconces hanging along the walls, he saw markings on the door, shapes and characters he suspected had meaning.

  He squeezed Jessa’s hand and motioned softly toward the door, hoping her Sight would allow her to draw the shapes again. She frowned at him, briefly startled, then stared at the door. Rsiran couldn’t tell whether she saw anything of use.

  “You are free to leave, Mr. Lareth. You will receive a summons for the study. You would do well to answer.”

  Rsiran clutched the wooden bottle tightly against him. “And if I don’t?”

  The scholar tapped the lorcith piercing his lips together again, and Rsiran felt a soft surge of lorcith. The doors swung open without the scholar touching them.

  Rsiran looked at him, wondering if the piercings gave him control over the lorcith. He hadn’t seen any other scholars to know if others had similar piercings or if they were particular to this one scholar. The man watched him and said nothing.

  “What of my father?” Rsiran asked. He didn’t feel strongly about helping his father, but he’d brought them to Venass. Rsiran would work out later how his father knew of it.

  “For now, your father will remain as our guest.”

  “That wasn’t the agreement,” Rsiran said. He didn’t want to leave the scholars with anything they might use against him. Already, he began to feel uncomfortable with what had happened. How much had he sacrificed to help Brusus?

  “No. There is no agreement for Neran Lareth.”

  Rsiran turned to face the scholar, knives ready to push at him. As he did, he wondered if they would even work against him. If he could control lorcith the same as Rsiran, would the knives find their target or would he be able to deflect them?

  The scholar studied him, an almost amused expression flickering across his eyes. He stood at ease, arms clasped behind his back.

  “You will not harm him.”

  He tapped the piercings together again. “Have you come to care about him?”

  Jessa leaned toward Rsiran. He resisted the urge to look over, unwilling to look away from the scholar.

  Rsiran leaned forward again. “Don’t push me on this.”

  “Or what, Mr. Lareth? What do you think you will do? You will return to Venass?” He almost smiled. “And then what? How will that turn out any differently than this time?”

  Rsiran felt anger rising within him. Was this another test? They’d already helped him, giving him an antidote that might save Brusus. Why would he argue with them before leaving?

  “Your traps did not hold me,” he reminded. “Remember that if you think to harm him.”

  The scholar tipped his head forward, only the slightest bow. “We do not forget, Mr. Lareth. That is why you were granted passage.”

  Rsiran watched him for another mome
nt and then pulled Jessa with him and stepped through the doors. As he did, he had a sensation of movement, a swirl of colors, and smelled a hint of bitterness. Rsiran turned, and the Tower was now far behind him, the doors closed. Thyr stretched behind it.

  They’d Slid away from the Tower.

  Rsiran shivered, realizing what had just happened. Had they forced him into a Slide, using his ability to carry them away from the Tower? Or far stranger, did the scholars have the ability to Slide, and now wanted to know how he could Slide past heartstone alloy? Either way, he realized he might have underestimated them.

  Jessa stared at the Tower. She chewed at her lip and one hand gripped the charm around her neck. “What will happen when they decide to study you?”

  “I don’t have to return.” But he was no longer certain that was true.

  Jessa shook her head. “This was a mistake. Brusus wouldn’t want you to do this.”

  “Brusus will want to live.”

  Jessa sighed. “At what cost?” She turned to him and took both of his hands in hers. “We’ve been upset at Brusus for pulling us into the Elvraeth plot without asking, but what have we just done?”

  Rsiran realized she was right. What had he done? Agreed to assist the scholars in exchange for the antidote, but what did he really know about them?

  He sighed. If all they wanted was the opportunity to study his abilities, what could that hurt? But if that was all, why did he have the feeling he’d been duped into an agreement that had implications he hadn’t considered and could not foresee?

  Rsiran looked at the slowly lightening sky. Much longer, and it would be morning. Della would have spent most of the night working on Brusus. In that time, she would have expended much energy, possibly more than she could sustain. After everything they’d been through, it was time to return.

  Jessa watched him, her eyes narrowed with concern. “Rsiran…”

  The way she said his name told him she’d seen enough on his face to practically Read him. If only he could do the same with her. “You’re right,” he said simply. “I don’t know what I’ve done. We should have spoken to Della before running off with Thom, but I thought—”

  “You thought you could help. I know that’s all you ever want to do.”

  Rsiran sniffed. “Maybe I’m more like Brusus than I realize.”

  Jessa laughed. After the night they’d had, the sound lightened his mood, stealing away some of the tension that had begun seeping through him.

  “You’re damn near as stubborn as he is.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Jessa kissed his cheek. “Don’t be. Stubborn is good. If you hadn’t been so stubborn and determined, I don’t know that I would have gotten away from Josun Elvraeth.” She shivered. “Being stuck in the mine… waiting… not knowing…” She swallowed.

  Rsiran pulled her into him. She hadn’t said much about her time captured by Josun. And he hadn’t pressed her on it, knowing Jessa would tell him when she was ready. “I know. I’ve been there too.”

  She shook her head and started to push away. “That’s just it. You don’t know. I might be Sighted, but that doesn’t help when you’re trapped someplace like that, always wondering if Josun would return, never knowing if he’d bring food or water or if something worse would come. There wasn’t a lock I could pick. Nothing but bars and rock. And the water crashing far below.”

  He hadn’t realized how hard it had been for her, but of course it would have been difficult. Jessa was used to being in control, knowing that—especially in Elaeavn—there wasn’t anyplace she couldn’t sneak. Josun had taken that control away from her, made her dependent on him for her safety and well-being.

  “I’m sorry, Jessa.” And her capture had been his fault. Josun wanted to hurt him. By going after Jessa, he knew he would get Rsiran’s attention. “I know how awful Ilphaesn can be.” The darkness, the smell of lorcith and sweat all around, the steady tapping as the ore was mined. Those thoughts still kept him awake at times.

  “At least when you went to Ilphaesn, you weren’t trapped. You could always Slide away.” She lowered her head onto his chest. “The whole time I was there, I prayed to the Great Watcher that he would give me your gift, just long enough to escape. And when you came… when you appeared with Josun… I thought…” She coughed and wiped away the tears welling in her eyes. “I thought he’d captured you too.”

  Rsiran held her, rocking in place as he did. “But he hadn’t. I got you to safety, Jessa.”

  “Did you?” she asked. She moved away from him and looked back at the Tower. “Is that what we’ve found? Safety?”

  “We’ll get through this. I’ll Slide us back to Elaeavn. Make sure Brusus is well. Then we can talk to Della and find out what she knows of the Tower and the scholars.”

  “That’s just it, Rsiran. If it’s not the scholars, it’s someone else. The Elvraeth. The Forgotten. Damn, you even have the alchemist guild after you.”

  He’d almost forgotten about that. Considering everyone he’d encountered as he tried to determine what Brusus was planning and what had happened to Jessa, the alchemist guild seemed the least important. Yet, in Elaeavn, they were nearly as dangerous as the Elvraeth.

  “You think to keep us safe by barricading us into the smithy, building walls that others can’t get through. But that’s no way for us to be.”

  Rsiran sighed. The heartstone bars had been meant to keep them safe, at least in the smithy, but now he wondered if they ever could do that. They might keep someone from Sliding in, but there were other ways to get to them. What had happened to Brusus showed him that.

  “I wanted to keep you safe.”

  “That’s not safe, Rsiran. I’m not sure we can ever be safe, not like we once were.”

  “What do you suggest? We go find a place to hide? Tuck ourselves into the Aisl and live like our ancestors did?”

  Jessa pulled herself toward him again. “Would that be so bad?” Then she laughed. “But no, that’s not what I’m suggesting.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know what I’m suggesting. We can’t keep ourselves apart like this anymore. We have to trust our friends to help. When we stay separate is when others get hurt. First Lianna. Now Brusus.”

  She didn’t say it, but he knew she feared Haern was next. Or Della. More than any of them, if something happened to Della, it would devastate Rsiran most of all. She had always been the one with the answers.

  “You’re right. Too much has gone on for us to stay away from our friends.”

  He looked back at the Tower rising above Thyr. The white stone looked bleaker in the fading night. What would it look like in the daylight? A few slatted windows dotted the sides of the Tower. Could he simply return the antidote if Brusus was already gone?

  “We’ll return. Tell Della what happened. She’ll know what we should do next.”

  The relief on Jessa’s face was clear.

  Rsiran took one more look at Thyr and then Slid them to Della’s home.

  Chapter 18

  A fire still crackled in the hearth of Della’s home when they emerged from the Slide, filling the room with heat and the scent of her mint tea. The cot in front of the fire was empty. Blood soaked sheets were crumpled near the end.

  Rsiran’s breath caught. “We’re too late,” he said.

  Jessa let go of his hand and hurried over to the cot. She lifted the sheets, as if Brusus were simply hiding rather than missing. She looked back at Rsiran, her eyes wide. Her gaze flicked past him, and he spun to see what she looked at.

  Haern sat staring at them. The long scar across his face, running from his ear down his cheek, caught the firelight. At least it didn’t seem to writhe like Thom’s scar had. “It’s late.” He sat atop a tall stool, feet kicked up on a shelf. His eyes were half-closed, as if sleeping.

  “Where’s Brusus?” Jessa asked.

  Haern frowned. “Della took care of him. Spent most of the night trying to get him well. He kept bleeding and bleeding.” He nodded toward
the pile of sheets atop the cot. “Mostly from his mouth and nose. Damn nasty toxin they used, but one I’d seen before.” Haern looked from Jessa to Rsiran. “Hear we have you to thank for him making it to Della?”

  Was Haern saying Brusus was dead or still alive? “We were with him in the Barth when the attack came,” Rsiran said.

  “Attack? I thought it was poison.”

  “That’s what took Brusus. Someone put something in his ale. But there were others. Men with swords. Looked like Elvraeth.”

  Haern frowned. “Elvraeth in the Barth? I’ve never seen any venture far into Lower Town, let alone into one of the taverns. How sure are you?”

  Rsiran sighed. “I don’t think they were our Elvraeth.” He paused, looking around Della’s home. “Is Brusus…” He couldn’t finish the question.

  And Haern didn’t offer an answer. Instead, changing the subject. “So you know.”

  Rsiran frowned. “I know?”

  Haern tilted his head toward the door and Rsiran understood. The palace. The Elvraeth.

  “When did you learn of the Forgotten?” Haern shifted on his chair, swinging his legs down.

  “After the alchemist guild, when Jessa was taken,” Rsiran said, looking back at her, but she was silent. She stared at the sheets on the cot as if Brusus might reappear. “Did you hear what happened to me?”

  “I heard. Hoped it wasn’t true,” Haern answered. “You know I can’t See you like I can the others.”

  “Then you know what Firell did. What Shael had him do,” Rsiran said.

  Haern rubbed a hand across his face and shook his head. “Still can’t believe Firell would do that to you. To Brusus, really. That man owes him more than most.”

  Rsiran leaned over the cot, running his hand across the surface. How long ago had it been that he’d been the one lying atop the cot depending on Della’s skill to Heal him? Now, with Brusus gone…

  “I’m not sure Firell had a choice,” he said absently.

  “Always have a choice,” Haern said. “It’s what you do with it that matters.”