The Dark Ability: Books 1-4

by D. K. Holmberg

  “Josun?” Jessa said.

  “Brusus’s girl,” the other said. “And quite strongly Sighted. Even here you see well. And your friend?”

  “Can see nothing,” Jessa said.

  From the sound of her voice, Rsiran knew roughly where she stood. He considered jumping for her, grabbing her hand, and Sliding. The fear that raced through him would give enough strength to make the Slide. The only thing that held him back was the casual way Jessa spoke, as if she recognized this man.

  “Can’t have that now.” A pale blue light flickered on. It glowed steadily, nothing like the flickering oil lamps, and reminded Rsiran of the orange lantern from the sleeping quarters in Ilphaesn.

  A tall man, eyes a deep green and hair the deep silvery color of lorcith, stood before him. He wore a long, heavily embroidered cloak over a blue shirt that seemed woven of a fabric Rsiran had never seen. Deeply tanned leather boots reflected some of the blue lantern light. A slender blade hung at his side. With a jolt, Rsiran realized he could feel something from the sword and knew it was lorcith made.

  He was looking at one of the Elvraeth.

  Rsiran had only caught glimpses of the Elvraeth before. The rare times his father had been commissioned to do work for them, it had always been ordered and arranged through their servants, never by the Elvraeth themselves.

  This must be who had hired Brusus.

  “Done staring, young man?” the Elvraeth asked.

  “My Lord,” Rsiran answered.

  With a flash of teeth, the Elvraeth smiled. “Not lord. None of us are lords, young man. Your friend here, at least, has the right of it.” He glanced at Jessa. “I am Josun T’so Elvraeth. Here, in this place,” he said, sweeping his hands around the shadowed warehouse, “I am Josun.”

  He waited, watching Rsiran for a few moments. The smile on his face didn’t change. Rsiran had the distinct sense of something crawling in his mind, like spiders along his skin, as the Elvraeth tried to Read him. With a sudden effort, he pressed the barriers in his mind more firmly into place. Around Brusus and the others, he had been careful to leave them up, never knowing who was a Reader. With the Elvraeth, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to avoid being Read.

  “Here is where you tell me your name.”

  Rsiran let out a soft breath. “Rsiran Lareth,” he answered slowly.

  Josun tipped his head. The sense of crawling along Rsiran’s mind intensified for a moment before fading. Were the Elvraeth truly more gifted Readers? Could he climb over the barriers he built in his mind? And if he had, would he know that Rsiran could Slide? Would he care?

  “There is a Lareth who is a smith,” the Elvraeth commented.

  Rsiran nodded, wondering how he would know. “He is my father.”

  “Are you not apprenticed to him? Such is the custom, is it not?”

  Rsiran knew he would not be able to fool the Elvraeth. “Once,” he admitted.

  “But no longer.”

  He shook his head. “We had a disagreement about the direction of my training.”

  The Elvraeth’s smile widened. “Must have been quite the disagreement. From what I understand, apprenticeships within the smith guild are quite difficult to acquire. While it is a shame you gave yours up, I am sure Brusus has found you useful.”

  “Why is that?” Rsiran struggled to keep up with the speed of this man’s thoughts.

  “There are many uses for smiths, young Rsiran. Especially one with master smith bloodlines.”

  The comment hardened the blood in his veins like steel tempered by water. Did the Elvraeth know he could hear lorcith? His gaze pulled toward the slender blade Josun wore, feeling the strange sensation of being aware of where it was, almost as if he were back in the mines and the lorcith guiding his steps.

  With his ability to Read, how much did the Elvraeth already know about him?

  “Why are you here, Josun?” Jessa asked.

  Rsiran was thankful for the change in topic and had wondered the same thing. Brusus had not hidden the fact that one of the Elvraeth had hired him, but why would he be here tonight? Why at the same time they were?

  The Elvraeth turned to Jessa. Deep green eyes flared. “I could ask the same of you.” His tone hardened and the smile on his face faded.

  Rsiran found his heart racing again, fear slicking his palms.

  “You hired Brusus,” Jessa answered with a shrug. “We’re here for him.”

  The Elvraeth took a slight step forward. The pale blue light seemed to blink. Even his movement seemed graceful, as if he simply flickered forward from one place to the next. “I hired Brusus.”

  “If you don’t want the job completed, we’ll leave,” Jessa suggested.

  The Elvraeth sniffed and a wolfish smile returned. “I did not say you could leave.”

  Rsiran looked over at Jessa. For the first time since he had met her, a worried look spread across her face. She tried to hide it, but her eyes tightened and the muscles under her cheek tensed.

  The Elvraeth saw the same things as Rsiran. “You can relax, young sneak. I will not be reporting to the constables, or I would have to explain my presence here as well.” He shook his head. “No… I think you can both be as useful as Brusus.”

  Rsiran realized Jessa had been taking small steps toward him, and he made an effort to move closer toward her as well. His mouth was dry, and he stank of sweat. The initial surge of fear he had felt at seeing the Elvraeth had faded, and now fatigue threatened to knock him down again. He didn’t know if he would be able to Slide them from the warehouse if needed. But for Jessa, he would try.

  “How?” she asked. “We don’t even know what you hired Brusus for.”

  The Elvraeth’s smile widened. “I only asked Brusus to perform a simple demonstration.”

  Jessa’s eyes narrowed.

  “Yes—a demonstration. The rest of this,” he said, nodding toward the warehouse, “was my demonstration to him. What he chose to do with that knowledge is up to him and had very little to do with what you see around you.”

  “None of this matters to you?” Rsiran’s tongue was finally unstuck with surprise.

  The Elvraeth turned and looked at him. “Matters? Of course it matters. Did Brusus not tell you why I requested the demonstration? Why I have grown tired of the waste I see every day within the palace? Can you not see it for yourself?”

  “I know what Brusus told me,” Rsiran said cautiously, careful to not reveal too much to the Elvraeth.

  Josun only laughed. It was a bitter sound. “What did Brusus tell you? Did he tell you that that for centuries, my family has received gifts? That for centuries, these gifts lay unclaimed? No one has ever bothered to even open most of these crates. For some reason, doing so violates the order of the council.”

  Rsiran nodded, suddenly fearing the heat in the Elvraeth’s words. “He showed me one of the crates he opened.”

  The Elvraeth took a step toward the crate. There was something odd about the way he moved that Rsiran could not quite place. He tipped the lantern toward the box Jessa had opened and picked up one of the strange metal cylinders.

  “Ah… this.” He tilted the cylinder. “From a nation that no longer even exists.” His eyes scanned the faded harsh lettering. “A gift that none ever understood, let alone bothered to try and assemble, the letter that accompanied long since destroyed. There is much that can be learned from other cultures, but the council disagrees.” He spat the last few words. One of his hands ran along the strangely layered wood as he spoke. “And you think Brusus intends to assemble what lies within this crate.” His mouth turned in a tight smile. “Such was possible once. Now… now this is no more than a curiosity left to lie dormant and die like the people who made it.”

  The Elvraeth stepped away from the crate and pointed toward the nearest stack. His long brown cloak hung limp, barely moving as he stepped. Somehow, Rsiran felt the movement by the pull from the sword.

  “Now consider the same curiosities in each of these. Mul
tiply that by thousands. Then you may begin to understand what is wasted here.”

  Rsiran swallowed. The enormity of what surrounded him felt overwhelming. “But you didn’t want Brusus to open any of these crates?”

  The Elvraeth shook his head. “I knew he would, else I would not have shown them to him. I needed him to see what was here, needed him to want.”

  He turned toward Rsiran and met his eyes. Standing arrogantly as he did in the midst of the warehouse, Rsiran could look nowhere else. He had the vague feeling of danger, like he had felt in the darkness within the mines of Ilphaesn.

  “What is it that you need done, Josun?” Jessa asked.

  Rsiran finally noticed the casual way she had been ignoring his title.

  “Nothing that I need done, only what I have asked of Brusus. And since you seem so interested in helping him, I will accept your offer. Perhaps with your help, I will not have to wait quite as long for results.”

  He spoke the last with a knowing tilt to his lips. Did the Elvraeth know what had happened to Brusus earlier? Did he know of the attack or of the way Rsiran had Slid them to safety? Was he Reading him now, learning every secret he tried to hide? He didn’t feel any pressure on the barriers in his mind, but that didn’t mean that one of the Elvraeth couldn’t simply step around them.

  Maybe, he realized, he had learned of the attack a different way. Didn’t Jessa say the Elvraeth hired the sellswords? Surely such an attack would have been reported, especially one with an unusual outcome.

  “What’s the demonstration?” Jessa asked. “I was with Brusus when he met you here the first time. You never told him what you wanted done.”

  The Elvraeth tilted his head as he studied her. “Is that what he said? Perhaps it is because with Brusus, I have learned I do not have to be explicit.”

  “I am not Brusus.”

  He snorted a small laugh. “Too true.” His eyes narrowed. “Then I will humor you. What I need done is a demonstration for my family.”

  Rsiran stiffened. Meeting one of the Elvraeth was intimidating enough. How would he react to meeting more of them?

  The Elvraeth looked at Jessa with an intense stare. “I would like the family to see what others see when they look up at the palace. I would like them to feel what others feel when standing before the council. That is the demonstration that I request.”

  Jessa shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t you?” the Elvraeth asked. “You see all of this waste around you?” She nodded. “You live in Lower Town where children sleep along the streets or work the docks to help their parents, and do not see the problem with what you see around you?”

  “I see it,” Jessa said. She barely moved. Something the Elvraeth had said triggered an emotion within her. “I still do not know what you would like us to do.”

  A dark smile spread across the Elvraeth’s face. “For once—and only for a moment—I would like my family to know what it is like to feel weak, to feel what much of Elaeavn feels every day, to understand limitations.”

  “How?” Rsiran asked.

  He hesitated saying anything, but a tingle of fear began growing in his belly. What Josun wanted would draw the attention of the rest of the Elvraeth family—would draw the attention of the council. They risked true punishment; more than simply getting sent to the mines, Rsiran recognized the real risk of banishment or worse.

  But if they didn’t, what would Josun Elvraeth do to Brusus? Would he use the knowledge of him entering the warehouse to have him banished? After everything Brusus had done to help him, Rsiran couldn’t run that risk.

  The Elvraeth tipped his head toward Rsiran. “Does your asking mean that you accept the challenge, young Lareth?”

  There was a sense of finality to the question. Rsiran glanced at Jessa, uncertain what to say. She nodded to him. The Elvraeth watched only Rsiran.

  Rsiran’s mind went to Brusus lying on the bed at Della’s house. He could have prevented the injury altogether had he dared act, had he only dared reveal his ability. Now, Brusus did not awaken, and Della did not know how long it would be until he did come out of the stupor. If not him now, then would it fall on Jessa? Could Rsiran let her risk herself for whatever the Elvraeth had in mind? “What if I don’t? If I can’t?”

  The Elvraeth’s face twisted into a sad expression that did not quite reach his deep green eyes. He turned, his hand resting atop the lorcith sword. In that moment, Rsiran knew the blade as his, stolen from the smithy and now set with a jeweled hilt. The sword seemed to draw him, as if pulling his attention.

  How would the Elvraeth have gotten his sword?

  How would he have even known of it?

  “It would be unfortunate if the rest of the Elvraeth learn of Brusus’s plans for you, young Lareth.” He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “They feel quite differently about the ancient ore than your friend. And to think he broke into this warehouse in order to smuggle away Elvraeth property?” He shook his head, a look of mock surprise coming to his face. His mouth hardened and he leaned toward Rsiran. “So if you cannot do this job, then I pray to the Great Watcher that Brusus is up to the task.”

  Rsiran swallowed. Josun knew. He heard it in his tone and saw it in the way the Elvraeth looked at Rsiran. More than anything, it was probably the reason he had found them tonight. Worse, he possessed one of Rsiran’s own forgings, shaped into a forbidden blade.

  Now he had something on both Rsiran and Brusus.

  And it was probably enough to get them exiled.

  Rsiran could not take that risk. Already they had helped him much more than he helped them. It was time for him to repay that debt, whatever the risk.

  “I will do what I must,” he finally answered.

  The Elvraeth smiled at him again.

  Rsiran could not shake the fear rolling through him.

  Chapter 28

  They sat at a corner table in the Wretched Barth. A steaming mug of ale set in front of Rsiran went ignored. A few others sat at tables around them, but otherwise the tavern was hushed. They took the opportunity to talk quietly, the sounds of the bandolist playing near the back of the tavern drowning out their voices. The serving woman, Lianna, somehow seemed to know they wanted to be left alone, and after serving the ale, had given them a wide buffer.

  Jessa sniffed the pale flower tucked into her shirt and looked up at him, eyes wrinkled with fear. Rsiran had never seen her scared. “I don’t know how we are to do this. Breaking into the palace? Poisoning members of the council?” She shook her head, her eyes darting around as she spoke as if fearful who might be listening. “If Brusus was to do this, I don’t know what he planned. Maybe you were right about a rebellion.”

  Rsiran didn’t know. Worse, what the Elvraeth asked of them was nearly impossible. How had Brusus—even with his Elvraeth blood—expected to break into the palace?

  “If we don’t, then Brusus is in danger.” He eyed the leather pouch sitting on the table. Neither wanted to touch it. Inside was a mystery powder. What the Elvraeth meant as a demonstration was little more than a poisoning. Had Brusus known—or suspected? Was that why he delayed what Josun asked of him? “What else could he want?”

  “What all the Elvraeth want,” Jessa said. “Power. Probably the council.”

  Rsiran stared at the pouch, unable to take his eyes off it. “What if this is about more than power? And why should we care if Josun sits on the council?”

  “We’re all in danger,” she said. “All of us who helped him. Including you.”

  Rsiran nodded. Possibly him most of all. “I know.”

  The threat was clear. Perform the ‘demonstration’ or Brusus would be accused of selling lorcith-forged weapons. Selling weapons generally ran the risk of sentencing to the mines. Selling lorcith-forged weapons ran the risk of banishment.

  “What he asks…”

  “Requires me.” Only someone able to Slide would be able to perform the demonstration. If he had any doubts that the Elvraeth
knew what had happened in the alley next to the warehouse earlier, that alone erased it.

  And doing this task would take him fully down the path his father promised his ability meant for him. For Brusus’s sake, could he do anything else?

  Jessa narrowed her eyes at him. “You will not do this yourself. You are barely more Sighted than a child! All of the Elvraeth are Sighted. You think they won’t notice you carrying around a lantern as you stumble through the palace?”

  What he intended was not ideal, but after living within the mines for as long as he had, no longer was he afraid of the dark. “I don’t intend to stumble.”

  She snorted. “You’re no sneak.”

  “And you cannot Slide.”

  Jessa shook her head. “What is the use of such an ability if you’re seen, Rsiran? Even if you escape, they’ll know your face. You will still face sentencing.”

  Rsiran suppressed a shiver. Not for the first time this evening, he wished Brusus were with them. He had such a sense of confidence, a sense of assurance, that he would know what to do. And maybe there was nothing that they should do. Perhaps if Brusus were with them he would warn them off?

  “I won’t be caught.” He tried to sound more confident than he felt. If what the Elvraeth told them was true, he would have to Slide more times in one night than he had ever managed before. He ran the risk of over extending himself. He could imagine getting trapped in the palace, too weakened to Slide to safety…

  Not only would he have failed, but Brusus—all of them—would be in danger.

  Jessa scooted closer and set a hand on his arm. “Rsiran—I don’t think we should do this. This… this is bigger than simply selling Elvraeth property. This is… damn, I don’t even know what this is.”

  Rebellion, he didn’t say. And if they did it, they had chosen a side—or had one chosen for them. “I don’t think we should. I will do it.”

  She punched his shoulder. “Do you really think Josun will punish Brusus if we don’t go through with it?”

  “He knows about us,” Rsiran said. “About everything.”

  Jessa frowned. “What do you mean?”