Authors: D.K. Holmberg
The Dark Ability (28 page)
R
siran sat
at the small table in the back of the Wretched Barth. Soft flute music drifted from the front of the tavern, the melody strangely familiar. The scent of roasted fish came from the kitchen and mingled with the warm ale in front of him on the rough wooden table. His latest forging, a long handled spoon with intricate work along the handle, rested in front of him.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Brusus asked. His pale green eyes stared at the spoon, drifting to Rsiran’s mark, as his finger rubbed the carvings. Dark hair slicked back from his face, more grey than it had been, but a vibrancy had returned to his cheeks.
“I thought you would sell it,” Rsiran suggested.
Haern laughed, the long scar on his face twitching. Setting down the dice cup, he picked up the spoon and twirled it in his fingers. Seeing the way he twisted the utensil made Rsiran remembered how well he handled the knife. Haern’s eyes flared deeper green for a moment, and then he smiled. “I See someone enjoying this, Brusus. Seems to me there is value in that.”
With that, he dipped the spoon into the bowl of stew in front of him.
“Bah!” Brusus winced as he reached past Haern and grabbed the dice. “You know I can’t sell spoons. And you wouldn’t let me sell that sword.”
Rsiran smiled. The sword was well hidden this time. Safe. The smithy locked so that only Jessa could enter. Other than someone Sliding in, the building was inaccessible.
“Certainly not this spoon,” Haern said, in between bites.
Rsiran still wasn’t sure how he felt about Haern. The man
had
tried to kill him, regardless of what he had Seen. But because of what Haern had done, Rsiran had learned something else about himself. And Jessa lived.
Brusus grabbed at the spoon, and Haern held it overhead, away from him, splashing stew across the table.
“Damn, Haern!” Jessa said, returning to the table with a fresh mug of ale.
Today, she had a pale blue flower tucked into her shirt, the color so much like the lanterns in the palace. Rsiran didn’t think that anyone else saw how she sniffed the flower as she sat. After all these weeks, she showed no signs of the night they’d broken into the palace. The wound had healed fully, not poisoned like Brusus’s injury. And his had finally healed fully.
Jessa grabbed the spoon from Haern’s hand and slammed it on the table. “Now I’m definitely going to take your money.”
Rsiran smiled. After everything he had been through, it felt good to be sitting in the Barth with the only real family he had ever known. Jessa looked at Rsiran, her eyes smiling. Her hand slipped under the table and rested on his knee. He closed his fingers over hers and squeezed gently.
He still didn’t know what would happen to him, or whether there really was more to the rebellion than Josun. Rsiran hadn’t shared his concern about the man he had seen before Sliding from the palace, and so far, there had been no reason to. The Elvraeth had not come looking for someone who had Slid into the palace. Perhaps Della was right—that Elvraeth infighting made it not unusual for such an attack. And though his father had promised to turn him in to the constables, he doubted they would even know where to look. The missing lorcith in his father’s shop—and the fact that the boy had been mining it at night—and whatever Josun had really planned should bother him, but right now he didn’t let it. That was for later. Perhaps one day he would Slide to Ilphaesn, steal the boy from the mines. Rsiran could show him other ways to listen to the music of the lorcith.
Right now, he didn’t care if the rest of Elaeavn came crashing down around him. He had nearly lost Jessa, lost Brusus, and nearly lost his own life. It was time to start enjoying the gifts he had been given. Including his ability, which it turned out, wasn’t so dark after all. How could it be, when it had saved everyone who mattered?
B
ook
2 of The Dark Ability:
The Heartstone Blade
Blacksmith. Thief. Murderer.
After killing one of the Elvraeth to save his friends, Rsiran finds a measure of peace, but fears that it will be short lived. When attacked using knives he forged, he is pulled into a struggle that he wants nothing to do with. Worse, friends have secrets they do not share, secrets that could place both he and Jessa in danger.
Finding answers sends him Sliding throughout the city and beyond, testing his ability all while trying to understand the secret of the alloy that might be the key to their safety. When someone close to him is harmed, he must discover the extent he will go for his friends, and realizes that he might truly have darkness within him.
But that darkness may be all that separates he and his friends from an even greater threat.
D
K Holmberg
currently lives in rural Minnesota where the winter cold and the summer mosquitoes keep him inside and writing.
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T
he Dark Ability
The Tower of Venass (February 2016)
Blood of the Watcher (April 2016)
I
n the world
of The Dark Ability
The Durven
(The Forgotten Part 1)
A Poisoned Deceit
(The Forgotten Part 2)
A Forgotten Return
(The Forgotten Part 3)
T
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O
thers
in the Cloud Warrior Series
Prelude to Fire
T
he Lost Garden
T
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