The Dark Ability (26 page)

“Probably why my father stuck with me as long as he did,” Rsiran realized. But if that was true, why had he wanted him to suppress it?

It was an ability that Rsiran did not fear. Other than nearly getting him killed in the mines, the ability to feel the lorcith, to hear its call, had guided his hands, helped with his forgings.

“Do you feel it now?”

Rsiran tried to feel for the lorcith sword the Elvraeth Josun had stolen from him. Only now was he starting to understand why he had felt it that night in the warehouse, the same reason he felt the knife when Haern had attacked him. The same reason he felt the knives in his pockets and tucked into his pants. He could feel lorcith he’d forged more strongly than any other. Perhaps something more, but he was almost afraid to test that.

“Not yet.”

Jessa sighed softly. “This won’t work if it’s not here. You might have to do what he asked after all. Deal with Josun later.”

“You think poisoning the council would be easier? You think helping a rebellion better?” he whispered.

Jessa led him forward, toward the soft blue glow. Only as it became brighter did she answer. “Easier than losing you.” Rsiran felt her shiver.

“You could always leave,” he suggested.

“What—sneak back out the door? Try to get across the lawn without one of the guards seeing me and firing at me? Climbing that wall to escape back into Elaeavn, only to sit and worry about what was happening to you? No. I stay with you.”

“Thank—”

He cut off as she jerked him back against the wall and clapped a hand across his mouth.

Down the passageway, there was movement, shadows sliding in front of the faint blue light. As he watched, one of the shadows moved closer.

“Rsiran—” Jessa whispered so softly that he almost didn’t hear it.

Hopefully whoever was coming toward them was not a Listener. Of course, if they were Elvraeth, they probably were.

Jessa kept a hand on his mouth and backed him down the hall.

He could see nothing, forced to trust whatever Jessa saw. His heart hammered. A Listener would know they were there simply by the sound of his breathing, the sound of his heartbeat. Someone Sighted wouldn’t even need that.

And they were in the Elvraeth palace. Everyone here had abilities stronger than his.

Rsiran felt completely out of his league. Why had he thought he could simply Slide into the palace?

Something loomed closer. Next to him, Jessa’s breathing quickened. Her hand slicked with sweat. She pushed him more urgently, unmindful of the noise.

Rsiran heard footsteps clearly now, padding softly but quickly along the stone of the corridor. They had been seen.

Haern was right. They would be captured. Exiled. Forgotten.

Shame came over him. Had he really thought he could break into the palace? Had he really thought he could out maneuver one of the Elvraeth?

Another thought hit him, one that should not bother him but still did.

Now his father would know that he was right. Would likely revel in the fact that he had been right to sentence him to the mines. Now he would not have to ever worry about remembering his son.

At best, Rsiran would be Forgotten. But there were other punishments, those he couldn’t Slide from. What if he were sentenced to death?

But not Jessa. He would not let that happen to Jessa. He would prove Haern wrong in that.

They needed to move. Even unable to see anything, he knew they needed to move.

There was only one thing he could do, but he had to be able to Slide.

Here, trapped in this building made of some strange lorcith alloy, he didn’t know if he could manage, but Rsiran knew he had to try.

Pressing his eyes closed, he focused, straining for lorcith, searching for one of his forgings. Footsteps came closer. Jessa squeezed his hand painfully. It had to be now.

Fear coursing through him seemed to give him strength.

There was a distant sense, but one still within the palace, like a pinprick in his mind.

Rsiran latched on, uncertain what he felt but daring to risk it.

Then he stepped into a Slide.

T
he Slide was more
difficult than any he had ever attempted. It felt like his skin tore as he pushed through a space too small. He held the distant sense firm in his mind. As he Slid, it became sharper, almost painful. Rather than the sense of rapid movement he was accustomed to feeling, he felt an oozing that reminded him of the folded metal knives. There was no sound of wind whipping through his ears. Only a heavy muted feeling.

And then it was over.

He staggered forward, caught only by Jessa still gripping his hand tightly. Had she felt the Slide the same way he had, felt the slow oozing, the pain of it as it almost tore the flesh of his body, or had it felt no different to her?

He took a few ragged breaths and finally opened his eyes.

He expected darkness, but instead saw a soft blue light. The light was similar to the orange glow deep within the mines that he had grown to hate, the never-ending persistence of the lantern, the unchanging lighting giving him no sense of night or day.

He looked over to Jessa. Her mouth was open as if to scream, but she shut it when she saw him looking.

“Are you okay?” he asked. His voice was hoarse. Fatigue unlike any he had ever felt swept through him, as if he had spent a full day hammering at the forge with the heavy mallet. Even if they managed to secure the sword and leave the poison behind as planned, he was not sure he could get them back out.

They would be trapped.

She shook her head. “They will know we’re here,” she answered.

“Maybe. But not who is here. Not yet, at least.” Rsiran didn’t know how much longer that would be the case. And even if they found him, could he explain to the council? Would they believe?

She closed her eyes and nodded. “We must hurry.”

He nodded, afraid to tell her it probably wouldn’t matter.

The room was unlike any he had ever seen. Well appointed, a plush carpet lined the floor, a luxury not found in most of the homes in Elaeavn. A blue lantern, the shape more ornate than the one in the mines, sat atop a table. Rsiran was not surprised to see that it was made of lorcith. Had he more time, he suspected he could even determine the smith who made it.

Next to the lantern, a small ledger lay open, tight lettering written upon the page in what appeared to be code. Or, Rsiran wondered, it might be a language unique to the Elvraeth. A small carafe of wine stood on the table next to the ledger. On either side of a large hearth sat a pair of chairs. A smokeless flame burned in the hearth, giving unnecessary warmth to the room. A tapestry that appeared to be some sort of map,
Elaeavn
marked along the bottom corner, hung opposite the fireplace.

Rsiran was shocked to see this wasn’t even sleeping quarters, but some sort of sitting room. A pair of large wooden doors along the far wall likely opened into the sleeping quarters. This room alone was nearly as large as his parents’ house.

Jessa flipped through the ledger and then slipped it into her pocket. She shot him a hard look. “If we make it out.”

“What if we’re caught?” Stealing would only add to their punishment.

“They have more than enough reason to banish us already.”

She said the words with a strength he found surprising. Not that he would underestimate Jessa.

“Where is it?” she whispered.

Rsiran looked around. He
felt
the presence of the sword nearby. Now that they were in these rooms—likely the rooms of the Elvraeth Josun—he knew the sword was near. He’d thought that the Slide would carry him to it, using it as an anchor of sorts. That it hadn’t meant he had nearly lost control of the Slide. He had risked not only himself, but Jessa.

He shivered at the thought.

“I’m not sure. Maybe through there?” He pointed toward the door.

Jessa approached the entry carefully and tried the handle. If any would be locked, it would be the door leading into this room. She twisted and pulled it open.

If Rsiran thought the sitting room ornate, the room on the other side was more impressive still. A massive bed took up most of the far wall. Nearly a dozen pillows stretched across the end of it. Luxurious linens in greens and blues covered the bed. Several tapestries hung along the wall, each made in different styles and only one seeming as if it was from Elaeavn. That tapestry caught Rsiran’s eye.

It looked to be a depiction of the Great Watcher sitting in the heavens, staring down at a sea of green. Within that sea of green, several bluish dots glowed. Rsiran felt a sense of movement around the dots, almost like bodies writhing between the green and blue. The effect was nauseating, and he tore his eyes away.

Along the back of the room was a tall chest. Another lantern sat atop the chest, the light glowing with a softer blue. A basin rested near the chest, clear water pooled inside it. A small faucet jutted out of the wall near the basin. Rsiran was not surprised that the Elvraeth had somehow piped water up to their rooms. Such as thing was incredibly expensive. For the Elvraeth, it seemed no cost was spared.

Resting near the basin was the long sword.

Rsiran felt it pull at him. The hilt atop the sword was new, jeweled as he had seen in the warehouse. He wondered if Josun had put an edge on the blade as well.

“There,” he said, and turned to Jessa.

Rsiran froze.

Josun stood next to Jessa, his hand over her mouth, her eyes wide and angry. A knife pushed up against her ribs, the tip poking through the fabric of her shirt. The flower that had been tucked into her shirt had fallen to the ground. Lavender petals spread across the ground, crushed under his boot.

“I see you have completed your demonstration,” Josun said.

All hint of friendliness had faded from his voice. In its place was a sense of violence, of barely controlled rage. His hand shifted, and the knife pushed deeper into Jessa’s side. Blood staining her shirt spread out in a dark smear.

“You stole my sword,” Rsiran said. Josun’s words sunk in. “Wait… what did you say?”

A wicked smile spread across his face. “The demonstration is complete.”

A sinking feeling settled into Rsiran. “No. We didn’t do your poisoning. We didn’t come to help with your rebellion. I came for my sword…”

A confused expression twisted Josun’s face. “Rebellion? Ah, so little you know, Lareth.” He pressed the tip of the knife into Jessa’s ribs and she stiffened. “And perhaps I’m mistaken. Perhaps the council was not poisoned tonight.” He smiled again. “But if you did not, then I must wonder who else did? Who else carries whistle dust with them?”

“Whistle dust?” That must be the powder he had tucked into his pocket.

“Quite impressive how you managed to reach each member of the council in the same night. Only a master thief would manage that feat. Or another with a different ability.” He offered Rsiran a wolfish smile with a flash of teeth. “So maybe this will be a
quiet
rebellion as another council forms.”

Rsiran pulled the pouch out of his pocket. “We haven’t done anything to the council. We came to collect the sword. Nothing more.”

Jessa stood stiffly, terror in her eyes.

Rsiran wondered if he could Slide fast enough to help her. If it was anything like the last time he tried to Slide, he didn’t think it likely. Then he had been helped by his awareness of the sword, not fully knowing what it was that aided him.

“I’m not certain others will view it in the same light. Seers have a hard time with visions involving Sliding. All they will have seen is that someone Slid into the council chambers, and poisoned those within. Once they find you, they will not care to look for any other possibilities.” His wolfish smile widened. “It is unfortunate that I must dispose of her. She really
is
a skilled sneak.” He leered at Jessa. “Perhaps she could be useful in other ways.”

Jessa started to struggle, but the knife pressed against her again, and blood stained her shirt.

Rsiran shook his head, unable to believe what was happening. Why was he using them? What had they done to him?

“You?” Josun asked. “You think this is about you?”

Rsiran realized that he could Read him, even with his barriers in place. The thought made him shiver. “They’re your family.”

Josun tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Among the Elvraeth, everyone is family. Blood means little.” He leaned forward. “But… you were more right than you realized. This is but a beginning.”

The words seemed designed to pierce Rsiran. Josun was Reading him again.

Steeling his barriers, he strained to block Josun from his mind. Darkness clouded over Josun’s face, and Rsiran hoped he was successful. If only he had Brusus’s ability. If only he could Push Josun.

“Is that why you wanted Brusus?”

The grin changed and he nodded. “Brusus made an excellent pawn. So much about using him was perfect. Child of a Forgotten. Skills and bloodline so that he could reach the palace.” He paused. “But then I met you.”

Rsiran took a quick breath, suddenly understanding when Josun would have learned of the sword. “You were there when Brusus brought me to the warehouse.”

Josun laughed. “So easy to Read. And with a gift that I could use much more easily than Brusus’s.”

“You sent the sellsword.”

Josun shrugged. “I had to motivate you. And now here you are. I had not expected your sneak whore to lead you back to the warehouse. I thought I would have to do more work to draw you in.” He pushed harder on the knife pressing into Jessa’s flesh. “And now that I have her… Perhaps the Great Watcher indeed smiles on me.”

As he spoke, he flickered forward toward the sword resting along the wall near the basin, moving in a blur, as if simply disappearing and reappearing.

Josun could Slide.

Rsiran suddenly understood the smooth way he moved in the warehouse. Josun Slid constantly. Openly. Something Rsiran had never dared.

Josun’s smile widened when he emerged from the Slide. He wore no signs of fatigue, none of the weakness that Rsiran felt whenever he Slid.

“For a long time, I didn’t think I would meet another with this ability. Even the first of my family found Sliding rare. And dangerous. Seers couldn’t pierce the haze Sliding creates.” His dark smile twisted. “That was why they wanted to eradicate it. First, by claiming it a dark ability. And when that didn’t work, through breeding. They never eliminated it completely.” He smiled widely. “And now? Here I am. Still able to Slide. And then I found you. Such a useful skill for many reasons.”

Jessa struggled a moment, and Josun tightened his grip on her. The tip of the knife pressed into her side, and she gasped. Blood dripped onto the floor, no longer content to simply stain her shirt. Torn lavender flower petals clung to her boots, stuck with mud and blood.

Rsiran took a step forward, and Josun shook his head. “I think it best that you stay where you are. The tchalit should be here soon, seeing as I signaled for them.”

“Why are you doing this?” Rsiran asked.

Josun tilted his head as if debating whether to answer. “Perhaps Brusus would have sent a better message. Child of a Forgotten avenging another Forgotten, but you created more opportunity, Lareth, more deniability. And with my other plans, I couldn’t have someone else Sliding through the city.”

Jessa started to struggle to remain upright, sagging against Josun. He held her up with a look of disgust on his face. Rsiran would have to do something soon if he wanted to save her. He began thinking of how he could Slide to her and then out of the palace again. It would only work if he
could
Slide. Inside the palace he was not certain he could.

Josun smiled at him, as if Reading him. “I do not think you are skilled enough to save her.” Josun shook his head. “I must admit it fascinates me that even in spite of the council’s attempt to eradicate Sliding, it still surfaces. Perhaps that is proof that the Great Watcher truly intends for us to have the ability.” He laughed, as if he had made a joke. “Now. How should we finish off your friend? Now that I think about it, she will pose more questions. I can always find another whore.” He shoved on the knife. “I could claim self-defense. Tell the tchalit that she attacked me. Or whistle dust? I believe you have enough in that pouch for what I would need. Really, though, it takes only a little once it reaches the blood.”

Josun tilted his head as if considering the options. “Perhaps the whistle dust is best. Deflects any attention from me. We could simply claim that you intended to leave her to take the blame. No one will mourn the loss of another Lower Town whore.”

Jessa stiffened again at the comment.

Rsiran resisted the urge to throw himself at Josun. “She is not a whore.”

Josun frowned. “Oh? Did she not seduce you into attacking the council? Did she not convince you that the demonstration must be done to save Brusus? Had you only known what she would lead you into. Ah, well, perhaps that is not entirely true. It was
you
after all who brought her here. I must admit to curiosity about that. I knew you would be able to breach the palace, but did not expect you to make it so far. And to think I had taken such care to direct the tchalit toward where you would need to enter. Tell me—how did you reach my quarters?”

Jessa’s eyes faded, the color draining from them and her face turning a soft pale as she wilted in Josun’s grip. How much longer did she have?

He needed to reach her, but anything he did, Josun would anticipate. Rsiran needed to block Josun from Reading him.

With sudden inspiration, he created an image of lorcith in his mind, using that image to reinforce the barriers in his mind. There was a sense of pressure and then release.

“Interesting,” Josun said softly.

Rsiran knew then that he could not Read him. Maybe he would have enough time to act. Enough time to save Jessa. Perhaps even escape.

“It was the sword.”

With the barriers in his mind now strong, he felt the sword pulling on him, felt the knives in his pocket, felt a distant awareness of the lorcith all around him.

“Ah, that. I must admit it is skillfully made. A shame it will disappear with the girl.”