The Darkest Revenge

by D. K. Holmberg

  Haern twisted to look up.

  And smiled.

  The top of the rock was within view. Haern pulled up on the knife still embedded in the rock, leveraging himself up until he could grasp at the top of Krali Rock.

  And then he was at the top.

  He flopped down, letting his breathing slow, feeling wind as it gusted around him.

  “The view really isn’t worth it.”

  Haern rolled his head off to the side, looking over at Lucy. She sat with her legs crossed in front of her, staring out toward the sea. If Haern hadn’t known better, he would have believed Lucy to be caught in prayer, but Lucy wasn’t the religious type. Most of the time, she only pretended at her devotion to the Great Watcher, though Haern wasn’t so different.

  “You don’t have to rub it in,” he said, scrambling to his knees and moving to sit next to his friend. “How long have you been here?”

  “When I saw you making your attempt,” she started, motioning toward the palace in the distance—from there, he would have been visible to anyone looking, “I figured I might as well get up here to prepare for the possibility you might finally succeed.”

  “Thanks.”

  Lucy grinned at him. “It’s not my fault you’ve failed up until now. I seem to recall offering repeatedly to bring you here.”

  “If you’d brought me here, then I wouldn’t have managed to do it myself.”

  “You and your stubbornness.” Lucy pointed toward the water. “The only advantage sitting up here gives us is seeing the water. I mean, look at that reflection.”

  Haern took a deep breath and focused on the waves as they rolled toward the shore. From up here, everything down in the city looked so small. Even the Floating Palace had a different appearance, not disappearing quite as much into the rock as it did from other places within the city. From here, he could see the way it protruded outward from the hillside overlooking the city, rather than seeming to float above it.

  “My father used to come here.”

  “I know. I believe you’ve told me that… a dozen or more times.”

  “It can’t have been that often,” Haern said.

  “No. Probably more. I stopped listening after a dozen.”

  Haern chuckled, resting his elbows on his thighs as he stared out at the city. When the wind gusted, it threatened to push him back and off the rock, but now that he was here, he was determined to remain.

  “You really climbed it with just your knives?” she asked.

  Haern held them out. “I bet they’re still sharp, too,” he said.

  “I don’t really understand that metal.”

  “What’s there not to understand?”

  “Right. The Great Watcher infused himself into the metal so that we could use it.” She shook her head. “I think you’ve been talking to your grandfather too much.”

  Haern looked down at the knives in his palm. They were simple knives, well balanced and equally well made, the technique taught to him by his grandfather. He had been a mentor to Haern, certainly much more than his own father had been. Were it not for his grandfather, Haern doubted he would have understood the extent of his connection to the metal.

  “I’ve got to take advantage of whatever gifts I have.”

  “You’ve been gifted as much as any.”

  He shot her a look. “Really? Coming from you, that’s rich. Not all of us get to live so freely in the palace.”

  “It’s not as free as you would think,” she murmured, but then she shrugged. “Besides, you don’t think your Sight is enough?”

  Lucy had more than just an ability to Slide, and she was much better connected to the abilities of the Great Watcher than Haern ever would be. As one of the Elvraeth, she was gifted with all of the Great Watcher’s abilities.

  “Just one time, I’d like for you to experience the world as I do,” he said.

  “I get to experience it in so many better ways. I’m not stuck jamming knives into a rock to reach places like this. Or dependent on my friends to get back down.”

  “What makes you think I’m dependent on you to get me back down?”

  “You intend to climb back down?” She studied Haern for a long moment. “With as much as your arms trembled when you reached the top of the rock, I think it’s probably a good thing I met you here.”

  Haern reached beneath his jacket and pulled out a bundle of rope. “I would have found a way down.”

  “How barbaric,” Lucy said.

  “We all can’t travel the same way you do.”

  Lucy got to her feet, spreading her hands. “What can I say? It’s a gift. The Great Watcher has blessed me, and because of it, I don’t have to worry about the same boundaries you do.”

  “Yes, but I can still prevent you from getting into my home.”

  Lucy waved a hand. “You know, I hate that you have that metal surrounding your house.”

  “Because you can’t simply Slide into it? I’d rather have a knock on my door than wake up with you sitting and staring at me.”

  “And I would. You look so precious when you sleep.”

  Haern shook his head and got to his feet. The wind was stronger now and tugged at his clothing and his hair. If he stopped paying attention, he could easily imagine it tossing him from the rock, sending him crashing far below.

  Lucy watched him as if knowing his thoughts. But she didn’t have much ability with Reading, and even if she had, Haern had learned long ago how to fortify his mind with his connection to lorcith to prevent Readers from reaching into its depths.

  The short sword sheathed at her side was made of lorcith and had been crafted by Haern, but for the most part, Lucy carried it for decoration rather than any function. Lucy was tall and slender, and like most from Elaeavn, she was strong and quick, but she wasn’t a fighter like many who had the ability to Slide. Were it up to his father, all who could Slide would be turned into soldiers, so Haern understood his friend’s reticence.

  “We should—”

  A flash of lorcith suddenly appeared in the distance, back near the heart of the forest.

  He turned. From here, the Aisl Forest was nothing more than a dense green carpet stretching to the east of the city. Sections of it had been harvested, creating openings within the woods that he could see from here. The trees’ canopies covered the houses stretching out from the edge of the forest as they made their way deeper into the trees, heading toward the heart of the forest and the Elder Trees.

  That was where he detected the sense of lorcith.

  There was only one explanation. His father had returned.

  “What is it?”

  Haern shook his head. “It’s probably nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing. I see that expression on your face.”

  “What expression?”

  “The unpleasant one you get when he returns.”

  Haern forced a smile, but Lucy knew how he felt. They had been friends a long time, long enough that Haern was unable to hide anything from her, not that he wanted to.

  “Why do you think he’s back already?” Lucy asked.

  “I don’t know, but there’s only one way to find out.”

  The sudden appearance of lorcith in the quantity Haern detected certainly suggested that his father had returned. He was the only one with the ability to transport so much of the metal from the mines, often bringing it back when he returned to continue to build the fortifications around the forest.

  Lucy frowned at him. “Are you sure you really want to do that? You know how he can get.”

  “Better than anyone,” he said. “Are you going to take me there, or are you going to force me to climb back down?”

  “Fine. I’ll take you, but let me just say that I’m not all that excited about this.”

  Haern grinned. “You don’t have to be excited. I just need you to transport me.”

  Lucy held her hand out and Haern took it, readying for the shifting. It came quickly, a surge of movement preceded by swirls of
color. He wasn’t sure if he was the only one who saw that or whether others did. The colors reminded him of what he saw when hammering at lorcith, the colors that surged from the metal when heated at the forge, and the bitter scent he detected also reminded him of working at the forge.

  But there were other characteristics to it that were different. Had he any control over Sliding, he could almost imagine stepping off to one side, tracing the colors he observed, but the movement was entirely under Lucy’s direction. He held his breath as he often did to prevent the nausea that came with the sudden movement. When they emerged, trees surrounded them.

  “You always stop at the edge of the forest,” Haern said.

  “I don’t like Sliding into the heart of the forest,” she said, shrugging. “It’s nothing more than that, really.”

  “You don’t need to be worried about it. There are others who can Slide.”

  “Others who belong here.”

  Haern rested his hand on her arm. “You belong here, Lucy. Anyone can come to the Elder Trees.”

  “Not the Elvraeth,” she whispered.

  From where they stood, the edges of the buildings within the clearing were only just visible. The sense of lorcith pulled on Haern, drawing him toward it, much stronger than it had been when he’d left. He was even more certain that his father had returned.

  “Even the Elvraeth. You know how strongly he fears the Forgers. He’d love it if the Elvraeth participated in his mission to destroy them.”

  Lucy turned her attention to Haern, staring at him. “I know how much you hate them, but—”

  “But nothing. It’s because of the Forgers that I have no father, not really. It’s because of them that he disappears for extended periods, thinking he can run them down and remove the threat.”

  “We haven’t had an attack here since… well, since before we were born. That has to matter somehow. It does to me, even if the rest of the Elvraeth Council doesn’t see it.”

  Haern stared into the distance. It mattered. And his father was responsible for that, but there were times when Haern wished that his father didn’t have to be the responsible one and could simply remain in Elaeavn or within the Aisl, but he never did. He was gone so much of the time.

  He let out a heavy sigh. “Maybe it’s best if you don’t come with me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Go. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  Lucy turned, and with a brief shimmer, she disappeared.

  Haern turned away. So many times, he’d wondered what it must be like to be able to Slide in such a way, to travel without needing to do anything more than think of the destination. Would he have stayed here if he’d had that ability?

  He had learned enough working with his grandfather that he could take his trade anywhere. He didn’t need to stay within Elaeavn to serve as a blacksmith, though it was easier, and his grandfather was well respected within the city. But there was a part of Haern that wanted more. There was more to the world, and he hadn’t seen any of it.

  Maybe that was why he felt a certain sense of longing at his friend’s ability to Slide. If he had a similar ability, he could go for even an afternoon, taking off to places like Asador, or Thyr, or one of the southern nations, anyplace but within Elaeavn.

  When he stepped out of the forest, sunlight burned through the clouds without much warmth. It was late in the season, and before too long, the leaves would be changing, falling from the trees. There was something almost sad about that time of year, and it made him more morose.

  A row of small houses circled the inside of the clearing, stretching out into the forest. The Aisl had once been their people’s home, and up until twenty years ago, it had been empty. The last twenty years had changed much about the forest. Now there were these homes, but they weren’t the most impressive within the city. Elaeavn stretched from the rocky shores of the traditional city all the way through the forest to this place. Some people preferred to be within the forest itself—it was their way of remaining close to both the traditional city and the power within the Aisl, though there were plenty who preferred one or the other.

  Haern hadn’t felt much of a connection to either. He knew that he should, especially as he had both abilities of the Elders, along with abilities of the Great Watcher. His ability with lorcith came from here, while his abilities with Sight and Reading came from his connection to the Great Watcher.

  In the heart of the city, his father pushed on an enormous hunk of lorcith, much larger than anything they could realistically use, rolling it behind the blacksmith shop set up in the center of the forest. His father barely had to exert any effort to move the lorcith, not like Haern would have to. His ability with the metal wasn’t nearly as powerful as his father’s.

  He considered turning away now that he had confirmed his father was here, but he strode forward, crossing the distance between them, and waited while his father finished moving the lorcith into place behind the blacksmith shop. When his father reappeared, he paused, crossing his arms over his chest.

  He was a strong man, still well muscled from his time at the forge, and streaks of gray worked into his dark brown hair. His eyes blazed a deep green—possibly the deepest of anyone Haern had ever seen. Then again, his father was one of the few people who had handled each of the sacred crystals. That connection granted him much more strength and ability from the Great Watcher.

  “Haern. I thought you would be working with your grandfather.”

  Haern glanced over to the blacksmith shop, resisting the urge to flush with embarrassment. He had gone off without permission, but he and his grandfather had an understanding. So long as Haern completed his work, his grandfather didn’t care.

  “I had been, but—”

  “But you ignored your responsibilities. What have I said about taking your tasks seriously?”

  Haern took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’m not taking my responsibilities quite as seriously as you have been. We can’t all be the great Rsiran Lareth.”

  His father watched him for a long moment before taking a step toward him. “You have no idea what responsibilities I have, Haern.”

  “Because you choose to keep them from me. You don’t think I can handle them.”

  “That’s not it. It’s just that—”

  “Rsiran?”

  Haern spun at the sound of his mother’s voice. She stood on the far side of the clearing, her medium-green eyes narrowed, her brown hair pulled back into a braid that hung over her shoulder. She wore a bright yellow dress, with a matching flower tucked into the collar. His mother always wore dresses that were as vibrant as the flowers she loved.

  “I didn’t expect you to return so quickly,” she said, making her way over to his father and slipping her arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

  His father smiled widely, the expression much warmer than the one he’d given Haern. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll be able to remain here for long. I have a lead on where the Forgers might be—”

  His mother shook her head. “There’s always a lead, Rsiran. What makes you think this one matters any more than the others?”

  There was a weariness in her voice that Haern hadn’t noticed before. Could she have grown tired of his father disappearing? Haern had always believed his mother agreed with his father and what he planned, but maybe that wasn’t the case.

  “We’ve lost so many. It’s why I don’t like others leaving the city.”

  “You don’t have to do this alone.”

  “Sometimes alone is the only way. Besides, this one is different.” He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, handing it over to Haern’s mother. She scanned it before stuffing it into her pocket. “I haven’t found anything quite like this before. I’m close, Jessa, and when I find it, when I destroy them, this can finally be over. Put this with the others so that we can examine it later.”

  “This was finished twenty years ago,” she said softly.

  “Only the first phase i
n that war was over. The evidence of the Forgers—”

  “The evidence that only you have been able to find,” his mother said.

  “The evidence is there. I’ve seen the movement from them, and if we do nothing, if we leave them to regain the strength they had when the tower still stood, we will end up going through the same thing we just survived.”

  His mother stared at his father, and for a moment, Haern thought she might object, but she only shook her head. “You will do what you must, the same way you always have.”

  “I won’t be gone as long this time.”

  “Because you think you’ve found them,” she said.

  “Because I’ll need help once I confirm their location,” his father said. “I’ve already alerted the others and advised them to be ready.”

  Her jaw clenched and the corners of her eyes twitched. Haern recognized the expression. It was her irritation. “I presume you came back for supplies?”

  “I did. Neran has continued to manufacture what I need.”

  Haern glanced toward the smithy. Long before he had been around, it had been an open-air forge, but ever since Haern had known it, the smithy had consisted of walls woven out of branches from the trees. They somehow managed not to burn despite the incredibly hot temperatures required by the dense lorcith.

  “You’re not staying?” Haern asked.

  His father turned to him. “Like I said, I’m close to ending this. I can explain more when all of this is over, but you know that I’ve done this for you.”

  His father hugged his mother, and with a flash of colors, he disappeared, Sliding away.

  “That’s it?” Haern asked.

  His mother turned to him. “Your father is off ensuring our safety.”

  “There’s no threat to our safety. If there was, it would have come before now. Whatever war happened, it was decades ago. You ended it.”

  “He ended it,” she said softly. Her eyes had narrowed, and the corners of them twitched again. “It should have been done then.”

  “Why wasn’t it?” He glanced down to her pocket, where she’d stuffed the item his father had brought. “I know they were responsible for the last war, but he’s been chasing them for… as long as I’ve been alive. And from what I can tell, he’s no closer to coming up with any answer.”