The Tower of Venass (The Dark Ability Book 3)

by Holmberg, D. K.

  “Only that we all have suffered, and we’ve survived. We’ll survive this too.”

  Rsiran thought of the helpless way he’d felt when he’d been in Venass. He’d felt it again with the Forgotten. He’d felt it his entire life, from the moment his father learned of his ability. He was ready to no longer feel that way.

  “I need to know,” he said softly.

  “And what will that change?”

  Rsiran shook his head. “Maybe nothing. Or maybe it begins to give us answers, leverage, so that we might understand why everyone has been trying to use me. Isn’t that worth it?”

  Jessa took his hands and sighed. For a moment, she said nothing. “Just you? You’re not going to leave me behind on this. You can try, but I’ve already shown you I know when you’re going to Slide. I’ll come anyway.”

  He pulled her to him and smiled. “You know I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Chapter 35

  They stood in shadows near the palace wall. A cool breeze gusted from the north, carrying the hint of lorcith with it. He wondered if he was the only one who noticed it. The wind rustled against the dark grey clothes he wore, so similar to what he’d once worn while working in the mines. These were different enough that they couldn’t be confused for them; Brusus had made certain of that. The embroidery running down the sleeves was far to rich for the mines.

  The shirt covered the leather wrap around his waist where he’d fitted a half-dozen of his slender knives. They were all placed so they could be easily pushed away from him. Rsiran felt a certain reassurance with their presence.

  Jessa stood next to him. A blood-red flower tucked into the charm hanging over the deep brown shirt that clung to her chest. She caught him looking and smiled, nudging him with an elbow. Tonight, she wore a thin leather belt with loops for the pair of lorcith knives she carried. The lorcith lock-pick set was tucked into one of her pockets.

  “I still think this is stupid,” Jessa whispered.

  The wall loomed in front of them. They’d walked from the smithy rather than Sliding. Emerging from a Slide so close to the palace might draw attention and neither of them had wanted to risk it.

  Rsiran snorted softly. “Probably. Do you have any other ideas?”

  She fixed him with a hard stare. “None.”

  “Once we find out why they want to break into the palace, we can prepare for what they plan. Don’t you think that’s worth it?”

  “But if you break into the palace, and if whatever we find there is well protected and we still fail to reach it, how does that help us with the Forgotten? With Venass?”

  Rsiran sighed. “Then we’ll know that I can’t help them. That’s worth something, as well, don’t you think?”

  “And if we get caught?”

  If they were caught, Rsiran suspected the worse that would happen to them would be that they’d be exiled. Forgotten. No longer did he fear that as he once had.

  “We’ll just have to make sure we’re not caught.”

  “Do Brusus and the others know you plan to do this tonight?”

  Rsiran shook his head. “Brusus can’t know or he’d try to come. He’s still too weak from the poisoning.” What Rsiran hadn’t said was that there wasn’t anything Brusus could do to help anyway. And Rsiran didn’t want the strain of trying to Slide more than himself and Jessa through the palace.

  “And Haern?”

  “What about Haern?”

  Rsiran spun. The scarred man stood leaning against one of the eareth trees that grew only near the palace. He had a long knife in his hand and used it to pick at his nails. He studied Rsiran with an amused expression that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  How had he sneaked up on them?

  Rsiran flicked his eyes to the knife. Not lorcith, though after their experience prior to the last time Rsiran Slid into the palace, he didn’t really expect Haern to carry any of his knives unless he wanted Rsiran to know he was there.

  “Haern,” Rsiran started, but didn’t know what else to say to him. How would he explain that he hadn’t planned to tell him what he wanted to do?

  Haern shook his head. “Don’t, Rsiran. That’s not why I’m here.”

  Rsiran frowned. “Then why are you here?”

  Haern laughed softly. “Just because you don’t tell me what you’re planning, don’t mean I can’t See it.”

  “I thought you couldn’t See anything when it came to me?”

  Haern’s brow wrinkled, twisting the long scar across his face. “And I still can’t.” He pointed his knife at Jessa. “But I’ve known that one too long not to look after her. You might be able to protect her, too, but that don’t change the fact that I watch after her.”

  Jessa took a step toward Haern. “What do you See when you look?”

  Haern flickered his eyes from Jessa to Rsiran. “That you’ll need help.”

  “You… you don’t want to stop me?” Rsiran asked.

  Hearn flicked the knife, and it disappeared so quickly, Rsiran almost hadn’t seen it happen. “Not sure I could if I wanted to.” He shook his head. “Your gifts make you dangerous, Rsiran, but you got a good heart. That much I’ve seen. I trust you’ll do what’s right. And if this is the only way to find out what the exiles and Venass want, then I think we need to do it.”

  “This is just for information. I’m not going to steal from the Elvraeth,” he said.

  Haern grunted. “Wouldn’t help you if you did.”

  Rsiran frowned. “Why is that?”

  Haern nodded to where the palace loomed over them. This close, it no longer looked as if it floated like it did in Lower Town. Here, it jutted out from the rock the city was built upon, rising high overhead. A few lanterns glowed in windows, pale blue light shining. Heartstone lanterns—what he used to call Elvraeth light—though Rsiran still hadn’t learned the trick of making them.

  “Is it any better for us to have whatever’s stored there?” he asked. “If it’s so valuable that the exiles and Venass want it, do you think we can keep it safe?”

  “Do you know what the Elvraeth hide?” Jessa asked.

  Haern fixed her with a hard expression, his lips pressed tightly and his eyes tightening. “The one curse of my Sight. I See the potential of what’s in there. And the dangers.”

  “That’s why you came. You thought we were going to take it.”

  “I said that I wasn’t.”

  “Then what?”

  “Far as I know, the Elvraeth have protected this power for hundreds of years. At least since our people left the Aisl. But others know of it as well, or suspect they do, others with visions as strong—or stronger—than mine. While the Elvraeth know how to protect it, I’m not so sure we do.” He fixed Rsiran with a hard stare. “Were you to take it from the palace, you think you can keep it from the Forgotten? From Venass? From any other thief who might think to sneak into wherever you end up storing it?” He snorted. “Least the Elvraeth have kept it safe all this time.”

  “They both want to use me,” he told Haern. “Venass and the Forgotten. I need to know why. See if there’s anything that we can learn from it. I’m doing this for information only.”

  Haern nodded. “You’re different. Don’t know what it means, but your abilities—the combination of your gifts—is different from anything else I’ve ever heard of. Makes you strong. And, like I said, dangerous. That’s why they want you.” He grunted softly and finally stepped away from the tree. “Not sure Josun Elvraeth knew that when he first thought to involve you in his plans. When you didn’t kill him then… well, then he must’ve decided he’d use you in a different way.”

  Rsiran shook his head. “He only wanted a sword.”

  Haern grunted again. “Why do you think he wanted a sword?”

  Rsiran hadn’t discovered that answer yet. “I don’t know.”

  Haern studied Rsiran. “No, I see you don’t.”

  “You see or you See?”

  Haern shrugged. “Told you—I don’t See any
thing with you.”

  Rsiran looked at the palace wall. Standing and talking to Haern didn’t get them any closer to what he wanted—and needed—to do. “I don’t think I can Slide all of us around the palace,” he told Haern.

  A dark smile twisted his mouth. “Don’t need you to take me. Can you get me past the wall?”

  Rsiran nodded.

  “That’s all I need.”

  “What if you get caught?”

  Haern laughed softly. “I won’t get caught. Besides, you need someone to draw the Elvraeth away. That’s why I’m here.”

  Jessa sucked in a breath. “Haern!”

  He fixed her with his hard gaze. The light from the moon and nearby lanterns made the scar on his face seem to stretch. “Haven’t you seen me get out of worse?” he asked.

  “Let Rsiran and me do this. You don’t need to put yourself in danger.”

  “We’re all in danger now. Doing this don’t change that.”

  He looked at Rsiran and waited.

  Rsiran took Jessa’s hand and grabbed Haern by the sleeve. Then he Slid.

  They emerged on top of the wall. The wall here was nearly two feet wide, but Haern wobbled. Rsiran held him tightly. Haern’s face had gone white and his jaw clenched. The palace loomed larger now, the darkened grounds sweeping out below them. The last time Rsiran had been here, he’d almost lost Jessa. That time, he’d come thinking he might need to harm the Elvraeth. This time, he had a different plan in mind.

  “Are you all right, Haern?” Jessa whispered.

  “Don’t care for that.”

  “You’ve never Slid with him, have you?”

  “Only once. Didn’t like it then, either.”

  “You were barely awake. Had I not Slid you out of there, you would have been captured by the alchemists.”

  Haern nodded once. “Didn’t say it wasn’t necessary. Only that I didn’t like it.” He turned, shifting his weight so he crouched near a pool of shadows atop the wall. He scanned the palace grounds quickly.

  “Looks like a pair of guards,” he said.

  Jessa nodded. “Same as the last time.”

  Haern frowned. “Same?”

  She nodded.

  He grunted softly. “Then we’re missing something. Elvraeth are nothing if not careful. Not smart to go jumping in somewhere without having a better idea of what they’ve changed.”

  “I don’t plan to walk across the yard.”

  Rsiran stared at the dark building near the center of the palace lawn that he knew to be made almost entirely of lorcith. The last time they’d come, he’d used one of his knives to gain access. Would he be able to Slide this time?

  “And then what?” Haern asked. “You plan to walk through the palace? You aren’t dressed well enough to go unnoticed.”

  “That’s why he brought me.” Jessa crouched next to him and watched Haern. “You think me incapable of such a sneak?”

  “You’re incredibly skilled. But where you’re going, they know how to sniff out sneaks. Rsiran’s ability masks him somehow. I’m not sure it carries over to you.”

  “He’s not going without me.”

  Haern flickered his eyes over to Rsiran. “That’s how you feel? Knowing you might not be able to protect her once you get into the palace?”

  “I need her with me, Haern,” Rsiran answered softly.

  Haern took a slow breath, his eyes losing focus as they did when he attempted a vision. “Go. I’ll do what I can to give you time. But be safe. There are things even I can’t See about the palace, but I—” He cut off, his head snapping around to the left. “Go!” he hissed.

  Rsiran followed the direction of his gaze. One of the palace guards moved through the shadows toward them, as if he knew where they were.

  “Haern—”

  Haern shook his head, already moving down the wall, fading into the shadows. Rsiran didn’t understand how he managed to move so stealthily.

  Without waiting, he squeezed Jessa’s hand, focused on his target, and Slid.

  Chapter 36

  They emerged inside the lorcith building.

  Rsiran had been here before, making the Slide less dangerous than it otherwise would have been. The air stank of dampness and bitter lorcith. Muted sounds drifted toward him, but he couldn’t tell if they came from the other side of the door or down the stairs. Very little light made it to him, leaving him again in the dark, nothing but the lorcith to guide him, much like the Ilphaesn mines.

  “Do you see anything?” he asked.

  “Stairs. Move carefully. I’ll guide you.”

  Rsiran pulled against her hand. They could walk, but doing so meant they would spend more time in the palace. More time for the Elvraeth to learn he’d come. And Haern was right. What had they changed since he last had come? Someone would have learned of their presence, and the Elvraeth already knew Sliders existed. Would they have moved walls and created unfamiliar barriers, or didn’t they know about the need for some familiarity with a Slide?

  More than that, he had no idea where in the palace he planned to go. Did they wander, searching for places that might be heavily fortified indicating the Elvraeth hid something? Della suggested what they sought would be deep within the palace and heavily guarded. But how would they find that?

  Every step sounded loud in his ears, as if he thundered through the palace.

  How long until they were discovered?”

  If they wandered blindly, how long would it take to find what they needed? Too long, he decided. Long enough that he didn’t dare wait.

  That left searching a different way. Rsiran thought he might be able to find where he needed to go, but not without focusing.

  “Wait,” he whispered to Jessa.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to learn where we need to go.”

  She said nothing. He listened to the lorcith, letting the sense of the metal call to him. All around him, it practically pressed upon him, an oppressive sense different from what he’d grown accustomed to while working in Ilphaesn. At least then, he hadn’t really known what he felt. Over time, his connection to lorcith had strengthened to where he could pinpoint the smallest of his forgings from a great distance. Even unshaped ore he could feel from a distance.

  This was different.

  The lorcith here seemed a physical sense. Heavy and demanding his attention.

  Rsiran closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. As he did, he pushed away the smaller sense of lorcith near him. That of Jessa’s charm or her knives. The sense of the knives he wore. More distantly, the sense of the sword and other forgings he’d made. Some of those forgings were here in the palace. That realization nearly made him lose his focus.

  But he pushed them away.

  It left him with the yearning call of the lorcith building.

  Rsiran listened to it, slowly understanding what it wanted.

  And then he pushed that away as well.

  Once done, he felt emptiness around him.

  Pushing away the sense of lorcith was dangerous. Haern could See him when he did which meant the Elvraeth could also. But it also left Rsiran more attuned.

  He listened.

  At first, he heard nothing. Silence. Only the sound of his breathing and the beating of his heart. There was a distant awareness of Jessa, but he’d had to push that away as he cleared his mind, or the lorcith she carried with her would have overwhelmed him.

  Then, distantly, he had the sense of something. Not the alloy. That was a hard clash of awareness when he recognized it. And not lorcith. That was softer, eager, and one he could ignore.

  Was it pure heartstone?

  This was warm and welcoming and seemed to draw him forward. If he followed it, there was no telling where it would take him. Possibly out of the palace and away from his goal. But without knowing another way, he worried they wouldn’t find what the Elvraeth hid in the first place.

  Intruding on that sense was the distant awareness of lorcith moving toward
him. His forgings within the palace.

  They had to move.

  “Hang on,” he whispered.

  “Where are you Sliding?”

  He appreciated that she didn’t question otherwise. Jessa trusted him.

  “I don’t know.”

  She squeezed his hand tightly around hers.

  Then he focused on what he sensed and Slid.

  The feeling was nothing like a normal Slide. That was colors and movement and a hint of bitterness that reminded him of lorcith. And it wasn’t anything like what he experienced pushing through the alloy. That was hard, and he felt it as he squeezed through the barrier it created.

  This felt warm and welcoming and strangely vast. Rather than a sense of movement, he felt as if he shifted. The only thing he could compare it to was the way he’d had to Slide in Venass.

  As he Slid, Jessa was torn from him.

  At first, she was holding his hand, Sliding with him, and then she was not.

  He tried calling out her name in the middle of the Slide but nothing came out.

  And then it was done.

  He emerged surrounded by blue light that reminded him of the heartstone lanterns. This glowed differently, deeper and purer than that light. It blinded him.

  Rsiran stumbled, sprawling across a warm floor, one cheek smacking against it. As it did, Rsiran lost the concentration he’d been holding. The sense of lorcith flooded back into him, almost enough to overwhelm him.

  It was everywhere.

  The sense was different from before and not the oppressive sense he had when he Slid into the palace building. This was vast like the ocean rather than like Ilphaesn. And he sensed no voids as he did within the mines, nothing he could use to guide his steps.

  He pushed up, rubbing at his eyes to clear them. Slowly, the soft blue light began to fade, and he could see the space around him. He stood in a massive room, so large that he couldn’t clearly see the walls. Overhead, lights flickered, as if stars twinkling in the sky. The air was warm and smelled familiar in a way he couldn’t quite place. He had the vague sense of welcome.

  Five distinct orbs rested atop pedestals within a ring in the floor. Each glowed with that pure light. One pulsed slightly, drawing his eye. What was this?