The Darkest Revenge Read online

  The ground shook, and Ryn looked up, turning her attention to the window. She saw no sign of the volcano spewing smoke, nothing that would signal that it remained active. It was the second time there had been rumbling but nothing more.

  That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?

  “That’s why we’re here?”

  “I brought us where we should get protection. It’s safe here. With the temple nearby, this is a place that even Lareth wouldn’t dare attack.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Her mother sighed. “Unfortunately, no.”

  “That’s why you always go to the window, isn’t it? You’re looking to see if this Lareth might be coming.”

  “I dream of him,” her mother said. “He came for your father, and I worry when he will come for me.”

  “Why would he come for you?”

  “I wish that I had those answers, Ryn. I wish for a great many things.”

  “Why tell me this now?”

  Her mother sighed. “Because you are old enough. You asked. And because the dreams have been coming more frequently.” She looked up at Ryn. “I think we’re safe here, but I fear when another attack might—”

  The ground exploded.

  Her mother grabbed her, spinning and dragging her toward the doorway at the back of the room. When they reached it, they huddled at the back of the home, waiting.

  “What is that?” Ryn asked her mother.

  “Probably nothing but the volcano.”

  They’d lived in the village long enough that Ryn recognized the way the volcano erupted, was familiar with the sense it gave off when it grew angry. This was something else.

  She started forward, pulling away from her mother, ignoring the way Mother grabbed at her, trying to keep her in place.

  As she did, the back of the house seemed to be torn free.

  Massive blocks of stone ripped through, and Ryn could only stare.

  “Mother?”

  There was no sound.

  Wind whistled through the opening, the house split in half, as if some angry god had reached down and tried to tear their happiness from them.

  “Mother?”

  Ryn could barely move. The sound of explosions continued all around, but she couldn’t tell where they came from. All she wanted to do was find her mother.

  Another explosion rocked her, sending her flying forward. Ryn staggered and stumbled before sprawling. The space where she had been standing was suddenly ripped away, leaving her out in the open.

  Getting to her feet slowly, Ryn looked around. Destruction was everywhere.

  She looked for movement, but there was none.

  All of the homes had been destroyed, the village collapsed, almost as if the volcano had claimed them. But it was quiet. This was not the volcano.

  In the distance, she caught sight of a flicker of movement that disappeared.

  Another followed, and then another. Each time there came the flicker of movement, she felt a strange stirring within her.

  She’d never felt that sense before, but now it washed over her, leaving her nauseated.

  Ryn turned her attention back to the space where their house should be. There was nothing left of it. Nothing of their life remained.

  Nothing of her mother remained.

  A figure suddenly appeared in the distance. Ryn realized that she still held on to the spyglass, and she brought it to her eye. Through it, she saw a man with bright green eyes and dark hair that had streaks of gray in it, anger flashing across his face.

  As suddenly as he had appeared, he disappeared.

  His name came to her lips almost unbidden. “Lareth.”

  Ryn was certain that was who it was. And he had destroyed her village. Killed her mother the same way that he had killed her father. This man had taken everything from her.

  In the distance, the sound of the volcano exploded again, drawing her attention. A black plume of smoke appeared, and as she stared, she realized that lava flowed along the sides of the mountain, heading toward the village.

  She couldn’t stay here.

  Where was she to go?

  The answer came to her, the same way the attacker’s name had.

  The temple. There would be safety there.

  As the volcano erupted again, Ryn looked around, wishing there was something she could do, but she saw no movement. There was nothing here. And if this Lareth had attacked once, there was no telling when he would return to ensure that he had completed his task.

  1

  Daniel

  The drab palace courtyard normally held little activity other than a few tchalit patrolling. They were here as usual, dressed in their deep green cloaks, their heavy wool jackets and pants beneath, the lorcith swords strapped to their waists imposing—or, at least, they once had been. It had been years since Daniel Elvraeth had found such weapons and dress a threat.

  Crouching along the wall, he studied the nearest of the tchalit. Gabe was an older man, only a few years younger than Daniel’s father, and one Daniel had been working with over the years to hone his skill. Even though the courtyard was mostly empty, Gabe still looked around as if he were on edge, preparing for the possibility of an attack at any time. There had been no attack on the city in decades.

  Touching the hilt of his sword—a lorcith blade much like those the tchalit carried, and his much more exquisitely made, befitting a man like himself—Daniel Slid.

  It was an ability that he possessed but had not spent much time honing. It was convenient, the gift allowing him to travel from one place to another in little more than a blink of an eye, but it was limited by his need to have some knowledge of where he was going to Slide. All it required was that he focus on that space and then draw himself forward. When he stepped into the movement, there came a sense of speed. A foul-smelling wind whipped past him for the briefest of moments, long enough for him to recognize it, and then it was gone.

  When he emerged from the Slide, he did so behind Gabe.

  In one fluid motion, Gabe spun, unsheathing, and blocking Daniel’s attempt at surprise. They parried through a few movements, Gabe still quick for his age, and Daniel was pressed back.

  “You reveal too much during our attack,” Gabe said as they finished.

  Daniel sheathed his sword in a swift movement, shrugging. “Only to you. You’ve taught me often enough that you know my tendencies.”

  “It’s not so much about knowing your tendencies as it is knowing the nature of how you attack. And you open yourself too much.”

  Daniel looked around the courtyard, realizing that another pair of tchalit guards had come out. It was far too early for the changing of the guards, so why would they be here now?

  “I think in a real fight, I would have managed to do just fine. I can Slide, after all.”

  Gabe nodded. “You can, which makes you formidable.”

  “We haven’t had the need for anyone with much swordsmanship in decades, Gabe.”

  “Just because we haven’t needed it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t prepare for the possibility that a time will come when we do. Why do you think the tchalit work so diligently throughout the city?”

  Daniel cocked an eye at Gabe. “Only the city?”

  “You know those who live in the forest have their own protections.”

  He did, but it still amused him to think of the tchalit wandering through the forest, dealing with the hassles of the people of Trelaeavn, the name most within the palace gave to them. Those within the forest believed they were of Elaeavn, as if those in the city would ever crawl out into the forest and live within the trees like animals.

  “Why all the activity?” Daniel asked.

  Gabe glanced over at him, the wrinkles in his lined brow deepening. “Your father didn’t tell you?”

  Daniel shrugged. “Not this time. Why?”

  Gabe shook his head. “Then I can’t be the one to do so. You understand, Daniel.”

  Daniel did understand. It meant that it was
some business of the council, though he wondered what it might be. Whatever it was involved an increased security presence. As he watched, a half dozen tchalit marched from the palace grounds.

  No one went with them. If it was a security presence, then where was the council? Where was the person they were guarding?

  Daniel turned and started to Slide when Gabe grabbed him. Daniel had never discovered how Gabe was able to detect when he was going to Slide. Supposedly, there were some who were able to tell when people could Slide, though as far as Daniel had discovered, that ability was quite rare. Even rarer was the additional ability where people could influence a Slide.

  “You don’t need to go after them, Daniel.”

  “Who said I was going to go after them?”

  “I know you well enough to know that your curiosity will get the best of you.”

  “It’s not curiosity, Gabe. It’s a need to know.”

  “Really? And why do you have to know?”

  “Well, considering I will one day sit on the council, I have a need to know most of what the council knows.”

  Gabe laughed, releasing his arm. “You and your logic. One day it’s going to end up getting you into trouble.”

  “I doubt it,” Daniel said.

  With that, he Slid, following the tchalit. He reached the edge of the wall, standing atop it so that he could look down and see where the tchalit were heading within the city. He thought for a moment that they would travel out toward the forest, toward the guilds and Trelaeavn, but they headed toward the water.

  Interesting.

  With enhanced eyesight like all of the Elvraeth family, their gift from the Great Watcher, Daniel was able to follow them as they made their way along the wide street heading down toward the water. The city gradually transitioned from section to section. There was a time when one section of the city had been called Upper Town while another had been called Lower Town, but following the attack several decades ago, the transition was not quite as stark. Many of the buildings in what had been Lower Town had been completely rebuilt, though without the artistry that was found in Upper Town. Some were large, as if they wanted to challenge the palace and the Elvraeth who lived within, but since they were set on the edge of a rocky cliff sloping toward the water, the palace gave an unobstructed view of the entirety of the city.

  He focused on a place along the shoreline where he had spent some time, and he Slid. When he emerged, the steady sound of water lapping at the shore called to him. The air smelled of salt and fish, an unpleasant combination that was far more potent this close to the shoreline, and something that was less noticeable in the palace—though some of that had to do with the exquisite garden that grew there, the scent of the flowers within obscuring everything else. From here, he couldn’t make out the tchalit as they headed away from the palace, not nearly as well as he would like, but he suspected that he would see them soon.

  On the route they had chosen, there weren’t that many possibilities for where they could turn and travel. One thing Daniel was skilled at was determining possibilities, and he worked through the various options now, thinking of where the tchalit might come out. They could follow the main road through the city, which would lead them past many of the shops and the market, but it would be the most noticeable of the possible routes. Given the size of the contingent that had left the city, Daniel thought they might want some privacy, though when it came to the tchalit, they often saw no need for such subtlety. They were skilled soldiers, all of them trained much like Gabe, and all of them descended from Elvraeth families, though peripherally so. In that regard, they were cousins of his, or something to that effect.

  Scanning the harbor, Daniel took stock of the ships moored out in the water. He counted a dozen, though most of them were local fishing vessels. A few were not, and that was rare enough. Very few outsiders came to Elaeavn. Partly because it was difficult to find, and those who came here needed to know exactly where they were heading, but partly because the people of Elaeavn—and the Elvraeth—preferred it that way. After the attack decades ago that had destroyed much of the city, there had been an even greater desire to close themselves off from the rest of the world.

  One ship in particular stood out. It was smaller than many of the others, and it had a narrow hull that suggested speed. The masthead had been carved to look like a woman holding an open book in one hand while the other pointed out toward the sea—or the shore, as she was now anchored close.

  None of the other ships drew his attention quite like that one did. Wherever the tchalit were going, it had to do with that ship.

  Daniel Slid along the shoreline, staying close to some of the buildings. This close to the shore, many of the buildings were run-down taverns for fishermen, though a long row of warehouses occupied a considerable section along the shoreline. Those warehouses were owned by the Elvraeth families, and anyone could store items within them. He’d always found it strange that they weren’t guarded by the tchalit but by sellswords hired by the families.

  As he maneuvered along the shoreline, he caught sight of the tchalit again. They had taken a side street, much as he had suspected they would, and now they headed toward one of the docks leading out deep into the water. He couldn’t follow them easily, so he had no idea who they were meeting. He could force his way out there. As the son of one of the senior ruling families, he would be granted more leeway than most, but his father would be displeased, feeling it far too impulsive, and his father already thought that Daniel could be impulsive at times. It was something that he tried to train out of him. He wanted Daniel to be calculating and shrewd, the same way he believed himself to be.

  Instead, Daniel was forced to watch to see if there was anything he could determine from what the tchalit did. They reached the end of the dock, and a small boat rowed over from the sleek vessel. Three people got out, climbing onto the dock, and the tchalit met with them briefly. As far as Daniel could tell, something was exchanged, though without much strength to his Sight, he was unable to See what they had done. Perhaps it was nothing more than an offering. The warehouse was evidence of the fact that many people thought to send an offering to his family, but it seemed strange to him that so many tchalit would be sent for something like that.

  Just like that, the meeting was over. The half dozen tchalit started back along the dock, and as they made their way, Daniel could tell that they carried something with them, though not what it was. He glanced over to the trio now rowing back to the ship, watching for a moment until they reached it. Were they carrying something, too?

  It was uncommon for that sort of exchange to take place.

  As he stood there watching, the dinghy was tied to the back of the other vessel and the anchor hurriedly pulled, and in short order, the ship began navigating back out of the harbor. When the black sails unfurled, the wind snapping within them, pulling it further from shore, Daniel stared for another moment, then two, before Sliding back to the palace.

  Curiosity worked within him. If he could reach the palace grounds before the tchalit, he could uncover what it was that they had been asked to do.

  Had he waited too long? He didn’t see any sign of the tchalit making their way back toward the palace, though it was possible they had taken a different route. There were other ways in the palace, ways that were hidden, and Daniel had spent much of his childhood running through those tunnels that connected deep beneath the ground. It was something his father had encouraged him to do, wanting him to know the various underground connections throughout the city. There was supposedly strength in such knowledge, though Daniel wasn’t sure if it was about strength or about knowing what the guilds knew. That, as much as anything, drove his father.

  Sliding back into the courtyard, he found Gabe standing guard. There was a hint of a smile on his face. “Did you see anything?”

  “Who were they meeting with?”

  “That is for your father to share.”

  “You know I can just ask him.”

/>   “You can, and perhaps you should. If he finds that I shared that knowledge with you, I would be demoted and expelled from the palace faster than I can blink.”

  “You are still Elvraeth, Gabe.”

  Gabe’s brow furrowed. “You and I both know it’s distantly enough that my tenure in the palace would be short-lived.” The brief darkness on his face faded, and he flashed a smile at Daniel. “If you would like to spar again later, maybe continue your training and see if we can’t develop that skill a little more, you know where to find me.”

  Daniel chuckled. Some days it seemed almost as if Gabe reveled in the fact that he could easily defeat Daniel. But then, when it came down to it, if another attack ever hit the city, it wasn’t going to be Daniel doing the fighting. It would be Gabe and the tchalit. Daniel would be leading, much like his father had led during the last attack.

  Daniel headed toward the palace door, pulling it open and striding inside. His boots thudded along the marble tile, and he hurried past the row of portraits depicting the Elvraeth who had served on the council over the years. The Council of Elvraeth was comprised of five members, each of them from one of the five separate families that all called themselves Elvraeth, and each of those families was really a collection of many other families. There was value in claiming to be Elvraeth, even if such a claim was distant like Gabe’s.

  For most within the city, the Elvraeth were those who had had all of the various abilities gifted to their people by the Great Watcher. Most people within the city were given only a single gift, typically Sight or the ability to Read. Reading in particular was less valuable within Elaeavn, as most who lived within the city had learned from a young age to erect protections within their minds to prevent anyone from Reading them. There were some incredibly powerful Readers, but they were rare, and Daniel had made a point of simply avoiding them.

  Voices at the end of the hall caught his attention. Daniel headed toward them, recognizing his father’s voice and determined to see what the tchalit had brought off that ship for him. He passed a line of lorcith sculptures, all of them quite exquisitely made by a single artisan, a man he had learned to despise while at the same time understanding his value to their people.