The Dark Ability: Books 1-4

by D. K. Holmberg

  “What we think they’re after,” Brusus countered. “There is a difference.”

  Jessa grabbed the dice and tossed them across the table. “Whatever. Now that Thom and the rest of Venass know what Rsiran can do, we’re not really safe anywhere.”

  Haern clasped his hands together on the table and looked to Rsiran. “No. I suppose we’re not.”

  Rsiran glanced toward Brusus, but he just sipped his ale and shrugged. “That’s why we’re here,” Brusus started. “Have to figure out our next move.”

  Haern reached over and grabbed Rsiran’s wrist. He was much older than Rsiran and didn’t have the strength that years spent working at the forge afforded Rsiran, but there was strength in his grip. “As much as Brusus likes to think he’s the center of our world, since we met you, you seem to be in the middle of everything that happens. We have years of knowing how to be careful—”

  “Some of us fewer than others,” Jessa said.

  Haern ignored her and kept his focus on Rsiran. “One lesson you needed to learn was that there are times when you have to be hard, and others when you have to be compassionate. So far, I’ve seen only compassion from you even when it places us in more danger. Time for that to change.”

  “He’s not soft, Haern,” Jessa said.

  Haern released Rsiran’s wrist and picked up the dice. He flipped them between his fingers, twisting them slowly and then dumped them onto the table. They landed a pair of ones. “Never said that. Boy wouldn’t have survived half of what he’s been through if that were the case, but he’s got a gentle heart, and that’s going to get one of us killed.”

  Rsiran wondered if Jessa had shared with them that Josun had escaped. That Firell had freed him in exchange for his daughter. So far, it hadn’t mattered. Josun hadn’t come back for them. But he would. He’d already proven how far he would go, first killing Lianna, then capturing Rsiran, and most recently having taken Jessa prisoner.

  It was the reason that Rsiran always kept himself on edge, always looking around. But how far would he go? He hadn’t been willing to kill Josun. Anyone he had harmed, he’d done out of a need for self-protection. Haern might think that he needed to be harder, but what happened if he found he enjoyed it too much? What happened if his abilities turned him into something darker?

  Jessa watched him as if Reading him. She shook her head slowly from side to side.

  “Listen, are we going to dice or are we going to sit here and talk?” Brusus grumbled. “We’ve got this wonderful tavern all to ourselves. I thought you all would want to be here, but all I get from you is arguing. And I get enough of that from Haern.” He took them all in with a glance, then quieted. “Let’s have a quiet, enjoyable night, and then we can start figuring out what we need to do with both Venass and the Forgotten tomorrow. Seems like it’s time for us to sort that out.”

  Haern looked at Rsiran for a moment more and then picked up the dice, rolling them in his hand and dumping them on the table one more time. “Tomorrow,” he agreed as the dice settled, again coming up with ones.

  Rsiran couldn’t help but wonder if another day mattered. He might have held one of the Great Crystals and had sat next to the Great Watcher, but what did that matter when the Forgotten and Venass were after him? How many times would he be able to Slide away before one of them caught up to him? And then what would he do? Would he be hard enough to do what was needed?

  This time, Haern watched him, his eyes slightly distant as he attempted a Seeing. He blinked and sent the dice sliding across the top of the table, all without taking his gaze off Rsiran.

  Chapter 2

  The pounding on the door to the smithy woke Rsiran. His head pounded in time, almost as if whoever was on the other side managed to reach inside his skull and assault him. He stood slowly, wobbling as he made his way to the door, wishing he hadn’t had that third mug of ale last night. The second had helped him forget about the fear he had of who might be out there still after him. The third had simply been excess.

  He glanced over at Jessa and found she was already up and gone, leaving little more than a nest of blankets curled up where her body had been. How late had he slept?

  At the door, he hesitated. Other than Jessa, there were only a few people who knew of the smithy, but why would they have come early in the morning? And why would they beat at the door like this?

  “Open the door, Rsiran. Jessa tells me you’re still there.”

  Haern.

  He slipped the locks, marveling at how Jessa managed to lock them again and wondering if he would ever really be able to seal up the smithy, and pulled open the door. Bright sunlight spilled in, and he had to shade his eyes. Haern wore a dark cloak covering up a shimmering shirt that practically pulled light away from it. Rsiran had seen it before, but that had been when they snuck into the Alchemist Guild house.

  “Haern? What are you doing here?”

  Haern shoved past him and glanced around the smithy. “Been a while since I came here, so I thought I would see if you—”

  He spun, and a knife came streaking through the air toward Rsiran.

  Rsiran pushed on it and caught it just before it would have pierced his leg. Not a killing throw, but one that would have hurt. And lorcith, so he suspected this to be some sort of test from Haern.

  “Good. At least you keep your reflexes active. Have to be with what’s coming.” Haern grabbed the knife from Rsiran’s hand and kicked the door to the smithy shut. “You going to stand there and gape at me, or you going to ask the question that’s on your mind?”

  “I repeat, what are you doing here?”

  Haern started toward the forge and stopped at the long table that held Rsiran’s recent forgings. It had been days since he’d worked at the forge, and the smithy didn’t smell quite so strongly of lorcith, but the top of the table was littered with what he’d made. Now that they didn’t sell his lorcith creations, he kept them all here, and they accumulated.

  At the table, Haern took a pair of knives and flicked them toward Rsiran. It was an almost casual motion, and he smiled as he did it.

  Rsiran pushed the knives, slowing them enough that he could catch them. “Haern?”

  “This,” Haern began, grabbing an iron plate that Rsiran had made, “is about your training,” he finished, spinning the iron plate at Rsiran.

  Iron didn’t react the same as lorcith. He ducked, but wasn’t fast enough. The plate caught him on the arm and sent him spinning.

  In that time, Haern crossed the distance between them, a steel knife appearing in his hand. He slashed at Rsiran.

  Rsiran Slid back two steps, emerging near the door.

  Haern stood and smiled. “Good. Can’t forget all your abilities, can you?”

  He flicked a pair of knives that Rsiran hadn’t seen. Neither was lorcith.

  Rsiran emerged on the far side of the smithy, wanting to be farther away when he emerged. “Training?” he asked. His mind still hadn’t cleared, but what was Haern doing?

  “Told you that you’ll need to be harder. That you’ll need to learn how to use your abilities. Now you’re going to learn.” Another knife streaked toward Rsiran that he Slid away from. “You really need to think quicker when you’re attacked. You use one of your abilities at a time, when you’ve got two.”

  Haern rolled, sending another knife at Rsiran and then leaping toward him.

  Rsiran Slid to emerge behind him. If Haern wanted to play at an attack, then he suspected he would have to oblige him. He pulled a pair of knives from the table and sent them spinning toward Haern, blunt end forward. Rsiran didn’t want to hurt Haern, but he wanted to prove that he was capable enough.

  A short sword appeared in Haern’s hand, and he swatted the knives from the air. Rsiran had never seen Haern with a sword, and was surprised to note the bright gleam to the steel. It was finely made, but not one of his.

  “That might work, but you forget that I can See.” He jumped toward Rsiran, the tip of his sword stabbing toward him.
>
  Rsiran Slid two steps to the side. “I thought you couldn’t See anything involving me.”

  Haern spun and darted toward him again. A tight smile spread across his face. Haern didn’t seem winded, and actually seemed to be enjoying himself. “Can’t See you, but when you send knives at me…”

  Rsiran had another pair of knives ready and sent them flying toward Haern. The man spun, his steps quick, and slashed the knives out of the air, before spinning back toward Rsiran, and jumping with more agility than Rsiran would have expected. He landed in front of Rsiran, his sword nearly stabbing into his chest.

  “You see, you hesitate,” Haern said, jabbing at him with the tip of the sword. “What would have happened had I wanted to hurt you?”

  Rsiran Slid a step back, but Haern had been ready. When he emerged, Haern’s sword remained stabbed toward his chest. “I think that I could get away.”

  He eyed the sharp edge of the sword and noted how close it was to him. In spite of his ability to Slide, it was still dangerously close. He thought of when he’d been attacked by the Forgotten Sliders after they’d poisoned him. He hadn’t been able to do much more than escape then. What would have happened to him—to Jessa—had they been even slightly more capable?

  “There are times when your abilities fail,” Haern said. “Times when you either can’t—or don’t want to—run. You need to know how to use your combination of abilities, because I assure you, there are others out there who have honed their gifts and will not hesitate to do what they need to do in order to survive.”

  Rsiran met Haern’s eyes. “I’ve done what was needed to survive.”

  Haern laughed darkly and slipped his sword into an unseen sheath. “You mean those men you fought in Asador? Or Thom when he Compelled me?” Haern grunted. “Jessa thinks you’d do what is needed, but she also thinks you fear it’ll turn you into something else.” Rsiran hadn’t known that Jessa had discovered his concern. But then, she knew him better than anyone. “Trust me when I tell you that I’ve lived with darkness, Rsiran. There are things that can break a man, but you have to be willing to be broken. From what I’ve seen, you keep yourself too grounded for that to happen.”

  “I don’t think I’m grounded.”

  Haern swept his hand around him. “No? You don’t think this place gives you some purpose? It might not be what you expected, but I’ve seen the way you look when you talk about your work. And Jessa. Even if you never stood in front of your forge again, I think that girl would be enough to keep you straight.”

  Rsiran turned away from Haern and stepped in front of the anvil. He lifted one of his hammers and slung it over his shoulder. There was a reassuring heft to the hammer, a familiarity that had come from all the years he’d spent pounding with it. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? I’d do anything to keep her safe.”

  “And you fear what that means,” Haern said. “You think that just because you killed Shael, and were willing to kill others, that you might have to do it again. And I can’t say you won’t, not with what we’re dealing with.”

  Rsiran swallowed. It was as if Haern Read him, but that wouldn’t be possible, not from Haern. “I fear what I’ve become. And I fear what I’ll be forced to become.”

  “As you should,” Haern said softly. Rsiran turned to him and Haern shrugged. “You know where I studied. There’s a darkness to what I did, and what I had to do, but even as I learned, I never questioned whether what I was doing was right. I never wondered whether what I learned was right, only that it was necessary. You’re different. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t let Jessa stay with you.” Haern slipped his sword into his sheath. “Did you feel a thrill when you killed Shael?”

  Rsiran thought about the way the knife had torn through him. There had been no choice. Had he not, Jessa and he would have remained trapped. He remembered the sadness, and the fear, but there had been no thrill. “What do you mean by a thrill?”

  “Some feel it when they kill. Not you?”

  Rsiran shook his head.

  “Good. Even if you did, doesn’t mean you’re some sort of killer. Oh, maybe it means that you could be, but I think there’s a darkness within each of us, and we have to know when and how to control it. When you’re threatened, that darkness comes forward. It’s a natural survival instinct and you sometimes lose a little control. If it didn’t manifest, either you’d be dead, or someone you cared about would be dead. For Jessa’s sake, I think you need to have that part of you. But like I said, you need to control it.”

  Rsiran set the hammer back down on the anvil, wondering whether Haern was telling him what he thought he wanted to hear or whether it was the truth. “I don’t know that I can keep her safe, Haern,” he said softly. “With what I know is out there—the Forgotten and Venass…”

  “And the alchemists,” Haern reminded.

  “And the alchemists,” Rsiran agreed. He hadn’t forgotten about them, but the alchemists seemed less of a threat than the Forgotten and the scholars of Venass, especially since he hadn’t heard anything from them in the months since he had infiltrated the guild house. “All of that makes me a target, doesn’t it? As long as Jessa stays with me, then she’s a target too. I can’t be the reason that something happens to her.”

  Haern returned to the table at the back of the room and picked up one of Rsiran’s knives. He spun it in his hand, moving with a casual grace that did nothing to mask how deadly he would be with the knife. “That’s why I came to you today. You’ve got it right. You have a target on you. With what happened with Josun and what you’ve been forced to do, there’s no one else who’s in quite as much danger as you. I think it’s about time we do something to make sure you get the training you need to ensure that if someone comes after you again, you won’t be the reason others get hurt. It’s time we make sure that, if anything, you’re the reason we remain safe.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “What’s your hesitation? Do you think that if you don’t learn to control your abilities, you won’t have to use them?”

  “I know how to control them,” Rsiran said.

  “Right. You can travel from one place to the next, and you can push your knives at me. But is that control, or is that the most basic level of what’s possible? Seems to me that there are layers of ability. I’m guessing you haven’t done much more than scratch at the surface of yours.”

  Rsiran considered what Haern suggested. He had seen how deadly Haern could be. And the man moved with such a confident grace, how could learning such skills not be helpful? But, if he did, what other skills would he commit himself to learning? What would Haern force him to do in order to master his abilities?

  “And if I do this?” Rsiran asked.

  Haern frowned. “What’re you getting at?”

  Rsiran shook his head. “What’s the price?”

  Haern flipped one of the knives and spun it so quickly that it seemed to practically hum in the air. With a quick flick of his wrist, he sent the knife spiraling toward the opposite end of the smithy where it sank into the wall. “There’s always a price, Rsiran. You don’t think it’s worth it to make certain you’re not the reason we get hurt? That you’re not the reason she gets hurt?”

  Rsiran considered the many things that had happened of late as he watched Haern. He could learn much from this man, especially if he had studied in Venass and knew some of their secrets. Rsiran didn’t know what else the scholars might want from him, but it clearly had something to do with his ability to Slide past the alloy. It was the same knowledge that the Forgotten wanted from him.

  The scholars had claimed that a time would come when they would call Rsiran to them, when they would demand that he fulfill his promise to return so they could study him. Thom had already called him once before attacking them, but Rsiran had refused. What that meant for him remained to be seen, but he didn’t think he would escape unharmed. And his friends would likely suffer from it as well.

  But he owed the scholars of Venass a de
bt. That had been the deal when he’d gone for the antidote, one that, in the end, he had not truly needed for Brusus… but had needed for himself. If nothing else, Venass had saved him. But he found it difficult to imagine that had been the intent when they had given him the antidote. Given that Thom was likely behind the poison attack on Brusus in the first place, it was almost certain that Venass had only intended the antidote be given to him. And, as far as Venass knew, Brusus was dead.

  He sighed, and frowned as Haern smiled at him. What price would he exact to help teach him what he needed to keep himself—and Jessa—safe?

  Was there any price that was too high?

  Chapter 3

  The edge of the Aisl Forest carried none of the heavy fragrance of the sjihn trees that it did deeper in the woods. The trees along the edge were enormous and towered over the edge of the city as if ancient guardians observing the city itself. Only Krali Rock reached above the height of the trees from here; otherwise, the city sloped down toward the bay and the steady waves crashing along the shoreline.

  Pale sunlight streamed through the upper branches, bouncing off the thick leaves, casting a wavering shadow that danced across the forest floor. Other than his own footsteps, Rsiran heard nothing else moving. Thankfully, the strange howls he had often heard when deep in the forest were silent on this occasion.

  He waited for Haern, his heart racing, knowing that at any moment, the man might appear, and attack. Training, he called it, but Rsiran felt that, so far, it had been little more than testing of his ability, almost as if Haern wanted to take stock of what he could do. If he didn’t know how implicitly Brusus trusted Haern—as did Jessa—he might have questioned what he’d been asked to do. As it was, he went along with Haern’s requests but wondered how long he should.