The Tower of Venass (The Dark Ability Book 3)

by Holmberg, D. K.

  And then they were in a wide room. A fire pit filled the middle of the room. Thick smoke rose toward a hole cut in the ceiling overhead, and thick logs crackled with heat. Two long tables filled the rest of the space, with benches along either side. Another narrow door led out the other side of the room.

  The woman motioned them to sit, and Rsiran did, glancing to one of the men carrying a crossbow behind him. He eyed it briefly, noting that it seemed tipped with lorcith. Were he quick enough, he could deflect the bolt before it hit them, but they didn’t seem interested in injuring them anymore. No longer did he fear for Jessa’s safety. More than anything, he felt curiosity.

  She Slid to a seat across from him. Four lanterns hung on posts around the room, spilling bright orange light around them. She leaned forward, the line of her sharp jaw catching the shadows between lanterns in such a way that her face seemed longer than it should. Bright green eyes looked out at them.

  Jessa sat next to him, clutching tightly to his hand. She leaned toward him, as if claiming him as hers. She hadn’t said anything since they left the small cell, abandoning Firell to whatever fate the Forgotten had in mind for him. After betraying them a second time, Rsiran struggled to feel any pity for him.

  “Is this more comfortable?” the woman asked.

  Rsiran glanced around the room. Other than the tables and the fire pit, not much else occupied the room. There was a faint scent of bread and meat. A sheen of grease smeared across the table. This was a barracks of some kind.

  “You think to hold us here?” he asked.

  She smiled. “From what I hear, you’ve shown you can’t be held.” She set her hands atop the table and leaned back, thrusting out her chest. A smile hadn’t left her face since she appeared before them down in the cell.

  Rsiran shrugged. “You can try.”

  She snorted. “Seems that would not serve any purpose, now would it? Besides, how can I convince you to help if I mistreat you?”

  “What makes you think I’ll help? After what Josun did—”

  Darkness flashed across the woman’s face. “That one acted on his own more often than not. He was useful, in his own way, but careless. He thought he could act alone.”

  “And do what?” After what happened in the palace and how Firell and Shael worked for Josun, Rsiran had thought all the Forgotten worked with him. But Josun had denied it, claimed he only wanted to find the Forgotten. What was the truth?

  She arched an eyebrow. “Don’t play the fool with me, Lareth. You saw what he wanted.”

  Rsiran resisted the urge to look over at Jessa. He wondered what she thought of this woman. With her Sight, she always picked up cues he missed, even without Reading. By the way Jessa leaned into him, he sensed jealousy from her, an emotion he’d never noticed from Jessa.

  “I know what Josun claims he wanted, but I’m not sure I know what he really wanted.”

  The woman flashed her teeth, looking briefly like some kind of wild thing. “Fair enough. Tell me what you do know.”

  He debated answering honestly. He didn’t think she could Read him—not with his barriers in place—but that didn’t mean she couldn’t Read Jessa. Or that she hadn’t heard from Firell or even Josun what he’d done.

  “He claims he searched for the exiles.” Confusion flashed across the woman’s eyes and then was gone. “That was why he wanted to poison the council. He called it a demonstration, but it was more than that, wasn’t it? And he shipped lorcith out of the city. Since you have Firell, you would know that.”

  “You didn’t poison them?”

  The way she asked made it seem as if she really didn’t know.

  He shook his head. “I think I would have. But no. I didn’t poison them.”

  Rsiran watched the woman. Her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed slightly. One hand scratched at her face as she ran a hand through her hair.

  “Why would he claim he can’t find you?” Rsiran said.

  The woman hesitated before answering. “He can be a bit short-sighted. Comes from his abilities, I suppose. Well, that and the fact that he’s never worn the chains like others of us—” She cut off sharply and forced a smile onto her face.

  Others had worn the chains? There would only be one reason they’d need to wear them. “How many of you can Slide?”

  “You’re no fool, are you, Lareth?” the woman asked. “Josun made a mistake with you, I think. He should have brought you here rather than trying to push you.”

  “Josun didn’t push me. He killed one of my friends.”

  “That is unfortunate. Doing so did nothing but draw attention to us. That’s something we don’t want yet.”

  Yet.

  “Why attack me in Elaeavn? Why come after me already?”

  The woman flicked her gaze to one of the men behind her before turning back to him. “As I said, we want you to help.”

  “That’s no way for you to convince me to help,” he said. Lorcith moved somewhere behind him, and he resisted the urge to turn around.

  “You haven’t said how many can Slide,” Jessa said.

  The woman looked over to Jessa and frowned. It was the first time she’d spoken.

  “Or your name. If you’re asking Rsiran to help, the usual course would be to give your name. Draw him into your trust before you start making requests.”

  Her smile faltered for a moment, long enough that Rsiran noticed. Then it widened again, splitting her mouth.

  “Ah, the sneak. We’ve heard about you as well. A thief of some skill. We could use your talents as well.”

  “We. You’ve said that before but shown no signs of anyone other than these men with you.”

  She nodded toward the pair of men standing behind her, practically hovering over her shoulder. Both carried crossbows. Swords would be nearly useless against someone who could Slide, but crossbows… they could damage before he had a chance to get them away.

  “And you’ve given no indication that you’re anything but Elvraeth tools.”

  Jessa laughed at that. “Elvraeth? You’re actually suggesting that we might be helping the Elvraeth?”

  The woman tipped her head and her eyes widened slightly. “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”

  “We live in Lower Town. We couldn’t be further from the Elvraeth if we lived here.”

  “Really?” She leaned back and turned to Rsiran. “You think yourself so separated from the Elvraeth that you’re essentially exiled?” She laughed darkly. “Yet you still live within the city, enjoy the same protection of its walls, never fearing you’ll be dragged away from your intended Slide as we fear. And you have one among you who visits the palace with enough regularity that he might as well live there.” Her smiled disappeared. “Do not tell me you are separated from the Elvraeth.”

  If what she said was true, the Forgotten didn’t just live in exile, they lived in fear. But of what?

  “Who pulls you while you Slide?” he asked. “How many of you are there who can Slide?”

  Something changed about the woman’s face. It was as if it softened, the edge and the hidden anger fading. Rsiran didn’t know if it was an act, or if she simply showed her true emotions.

  “You really don’t know, do you?”

  Rsiran shook his head.

  “This is not the first time you’ve left the city. You came to Asador. Took one of the smiths.”

  Rsiran nodded carefully.

  “You didn’t feel any… influence… while you were away from the city?”

  “Influence?”

  The woman let out a breath and shook her head. “You did not. Great Watcher, you really are a dangerous man, Lareth. You Slide without knowing the dangers. You travel without fear. And yet you do so safely. These are things we should like to understand.”

  Rsiran knew from what Della had told him—and shown him—that his Sliding could be affected by those able to sense him Sliding. She hadn’t thought there were many with that ability. But from what he’d seen of Venass, th
ey had some ability to influence his Sliding, especially if they managed to pull him into the Tower. But he’d needed to be close for them to do that, hadn’t he?

  “What dangers are you talking about? How many can pull you from a Slide?”

  “So you know about that. Not as ignorant as you would have me believe.”

  “I know a Slide can be influenced. I’ve met someone with the ability.”

  “Where? Not in Elaeavn. That ability has been long dead, but there are those who study, who begin to understand—”

  She cut off before she finished, but she didn’t need to for him to understand what she meant. Venass.

  Rsiran didn’t say anything and hoped his barriers were stout enough that the woman couldn’t Read him. If she thought the ability long dead, then it was better for Della. “Not as dead as you might think.” He wouldn’t tell her that he had been to Venass. Not yet.

  The woman laughed. “Fair enough. But it’s the reason we wanted to know about your ability. If you can safely Slide outside Elaeavn, there must be a reason. We would like to learn what that is.”

  “Why only outside the city? What makes Sliding within Elaeavn any safer?”

  “The Elvraeth make it safer.”

  “I thought the Forgotten wanted to push the Elvraeth out?” Jessa asked.

  “Is that what you think? There are some who feel that way. You’ve met one. Most of us don’t care for the Elvraeth, not after what they did to us, how they either exiled us or our families, but most understand they serve a purpose.”

  “And what is that?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe you still don’t know. The Elvraeth protect the city and its people. That’s their purpose, why the Great Watcher chose them to rule.”

  Rsiran shook his head. “They don’t do anything but collect lorcith and sit within the palace.”

  The woman smiled. “For the most part, that’s true. But the council, at least, knows of their other purpose and guards it closely. It’s why exile is such a punishment. Haven’t you ever wondered why the Elvraeth banish people from the city? What kind of punishment is that unless there is something about the city that would benefit them?”

  Rsiran hadn’t considered it, but it made sense. “What kind of protection?”

  She shook his head. “We don’t know the details. Those of us who’ve lived outside the walls of Elaeavn know some of the effects. We’ve seen how Sliding can’t be consistently used. It’s a rare enough ability, but one that—outside of Elaeavn—is dangerous to utilize.” She smiled, studying Rsiran. “Or, is for most of us.”

  “What of other abilities?” Jessa asked. “Sight or Reading?”

  “For those recently exiled, there is no change.”

  “What of others?”

  “They fade. Within a generation, abilities begin to slip. Over enough time, there are only weak abilities.” She nodded toward the men holding the crossbows. “Naeln and Maven were both born to parents whose parents were banished.”

  Rsiran looked at the two men and only now realized the color of their eyes. They had faded green eyes that looked even paler than what Brusus projected when he Pushed. Rsiran had never seen eyes so pale. Within Elaeavn, they would be very weakly gifted.

  He looked at Jessa before turning back to the woman sitting across from him. Rsiran noted the color of her eyes, the depths of the green. “Were you banished?” He didn’t say Forgotten, worried he might offend her.

  “I was born in Elaeavn. When my father was exiled, I went with him. There could be no evidence of him passing on his lineage.”

  Rsiran wondered about the woman’s mother. As he did, he realized why Brusus’s mother would have left him in Elaeavn. Now it made sense. Had she taken Brusus with her, his abilities would have faded.

  Rsiran had come looking for the Forgotten, and found more than he expected. How much did Brusus know? How much did Haern? He’d wandered outside of Elaeavn more than any of them. Did his visions tell him what happened to the Forgotten?

  And if Brusus knew, why hadn’t he shared that with Rsiran?

  “You see why we’d like to know how you can safely Slide?”

  He shook his head.

  “Because we’re under attack, Rsiran Lareth. We have been for centuries, only now the attacks have grown stronger. And the Elvraeth will do nothing to help.”

  “Under attack? From who?”

  The woman shook her head. “There are those with abilities that rival those gifted to us. They would steal from us, claim a desire to learn from us.”

  “You mean Venass,” Rsiran said. Which meant that the Forgotten and Venass didn’t work together.

  She sighed. “You were a fool to come here, Rsiran Lareth. It is fortunate you did, but you were a fool.”

  Something struck the back of his head and he fell forward.

  The last thing he felt was Jessa squeezing his hand.

  Chapter 27

  Rsiran awoke but didn’t. Not really.

  He felt a haze around him. Colors swirled as if he were Sliding. He smelled nothing like the Slide, though, and had no sense of movement.

  Vaguely, he remembered what had happened. The back of his neck hurt and his head throbbed. He tried to move but couldn’t.

  Panic started through him, making his heart race. As far as he could tell, nothing bound his arms or his legs. He simply could not move.

  Rsiran tried to force calm upon himself and focused on his breathing. He’d been trapped before and escaped. If he could sense lorcith, he would be able to Slide and free himself.

  The air smelled damp and different than it had been before. A sweet edge hung to it, almost nauseating, like the edge of rot. The air didn’t move, still as his limbs.

  There was no light. That, more than anything, sent fear coursing through him.

  Lorcith thrummed nearby, pressing on his senses. He felt his knives still strapped to his waist. They hadn’t bothered removing the knives, thinking that he couldn’t do anything with them if he couldn’t move. It was a start.

  At least his ability to sense the lorcith was not taken from him as it had been the times he’d been trapped before.

  He listened for other lorcith, finally feeling it distantly. There were knives he’d made and others he had not. The crossbow tip he’d sensed earlier was somewhere nearby as well. A few lumps of unshaped lorcith, large enough to forge into swords, were near.

  Rsiran ignored all of it, pushing it away.

  He listened for a small piece of lorcith, one dear to him.

  For long moments, he couldn’t sense it. During that time, Rsiran felt afraid. He’d failed Jessa again, brought her into danger himself. And now the Forgotten would do what Josun first tried to do to him.

  A sound came from behind him. Or above. Everything lost meaning as he lay unable to move. A dark shape hovered nearby. Rsiran smelled the sweet rot more strongly.

  “Awake already?”

  The Forgotten woman. As much as he wanted his freedom, he wanted to know who she was. What she wanted from him.

  “This should help. Can’t have you Sliding away before we get a chance to know how you escaped the chains.”

  Rsiran tried to open his mouth to speak, but it didn’t work and sleep overwhelmed him again.

  * * *

  When he came around again, light streamed all around him. As much as he tried, he still couldn’t move. His neck throbbed where he’d been struck, and his head ached. Other than that, he felt nothing else.

  He could still hear.

  Someone rustled nearby. From the occasional grunt, it sounded like a man. Rsiran listened for lorcith, and found he still wore his knives. There was more lorcith in the room, a long, slender blade. And not one he’d made.

  Could he still pull on it?

  He reached for the lorcith and tried. At first, he thought he touched the lorcith, that it would respond, but then it slipped away. He could sense lorcith but do nothing more with it.

  A deep laugh came f
rom where the person worked. “Can’t be usin’ your abilities, now can you?”

  Rsiran would have lunged at Shael had he been able to move.

  “Don’t be worryin’ about your girl. She be fine. And she’ll stay fine so long as you help.”

  Rsiran tried to speak but couldn’t move his lips. Sound escaped anyway, something that sounded like a low growl.

  Shael laughed again. He came closer, splitting the bright light so it bent around him. “I do be rememberin’ how you got out of the chains. Not going to make the same mistake again, am I? This be better. Can’t escape if you can’t move, now can you?”

  Rsiran smelled the sickly sweet scent that was edged with rot again and began to understand.

  They poisoned him.

  Only enough that he couldn’t move, but it was enough that Rsiran couldn’t touch his abilities, either. They separated him from his gifts as surely as the Elvraeth chains.

  “Need you to rest a bit more now, Rsiran. Do be needing to give them more time to work.” He pulled on something. Rsiran realized he took his knives from his waist, but didn’t find the others he had hidden on him. “You won’ be needing these anymore, now will you? Probably fetch a few silvers for the pair.”

  Rsiran swallowed. His tongue moved, not much but some. “Why?”

  The question came out as a croak, nothing more.

  Shael leaned toward him, the sweet stench growing stronger, and laughed again.

  * * *

  He lost track of how many times he started to come around, only to be dosed again. Most of the time, it was the woman. He’d come to hate her visits and the satisfied smile she wore as she looked at him.

  In some ways, Shael was worse. The man had already harmed him once, and that was when he was supposed to be his friend. Now he allowed Firell to be trapped as well.

  This time, Rsiran awoke slowly. Blackness swirled around him laced with grey and deep green. His neck still throbbed, but it was distant, less than before. His head ached, pulsing with a steady pain that reminded him of what he felt while in Venass. Rsiran shivered with the memory.