Festival of Mourn (The Dark Sorcerer Book 1) Read online

  “I will need you to remain within the city a little longer.”

  “Why?” she asked carefully.

  “What have you seen over the last month?”

  “Besides the banewig and the shisii and the neverkin and the—”

  “Besides all of that,” Ceran said.

  “I suppose more than I had in the first few months I served you. I figured you were sending me where I was needed.”

  “I was sending you where there was activity,” he said. “And now I’m afraid there must be a reason for that.” There was another rustling; leaves that she couldn’t see fluttered. He didn’t step out of the darkness, and certainly wasn’t close enough for her to see him. He was more imagined than real at this point—just a voice. “I have had you pursuing these creatures, but now you must be on alert for those who control them.”

  Jayna blinked. “You want me to watch for dark sorcerers?”

  “I did not say you would have to confront them, merely find them. There is not much beyond the city of Nelar. The forest becomes too dense, and the El’aras too . . . cantankerous . . . to have them move beyond.”

  “You think there will be sorcerers here?”

  “Sorcerers, or perhaps their volar.”

  Jayna knew some about the volar. They serve sorcerers, and were closer to dular than true sorcerers, using enchantments that were created out of pain and sacrifice. “And you just want me to find them?”

  “Find them. Signal to me. And then we will continue your training.”

  “I don’t mind chasing the dark creatures like you have me doing,” she said.

  “You and I both know you were always going to need to do more than just that,” he said. His voice seemed to have gone more distant, as if he were retreating from her.

  “I’m not ready to take on a full-fledged dark sorcerer.”

  She hadn’t even completed her time at the Academy, so to go against a sorcerer would be more than she could withstand. She had the ring he’d given her, and while there was power within it that she could access, a fully trained sorcerer had knowledge that she simply did not.

  “Unfortunately, I have begun to suspect our time to keep working on what must be done is growing short.”

  “You only told me how to access the power of the ring.”

  He laughed again, sounding somehow both pleased and irritated at the same time. “You don’t need lessons on how to access the power, Jayna. You understand that connection well.”

  “Fine. Then you haven’t taught me any other advanced spells.”

  He had revealed the blade of light, the starburst, and the fire whip to her—all spells that she wouldn’t have learned at the Academy. They would’ve frowned on magic like that, and for good reason.

  “In time. For now, be alert. And you will remain in the city until we understand what they intend.”

  “I’ve already been here nearly a month,” she muttered.

  “You don’t care for the continuity?”

  “It’s not that,” she said. She wasn’t about to tell Ceran the real reason she didn’t love being in the city. She hadn’t even revealed that to Eva.

  “I fear that it won’t be—”

  Ceran fell silent.

  “Ceran?”

  The ring pulsed once, then fell quiet.

  He was gone.

  She grunted. All of that and now she had to stay here.

  She made her way back through the forest, holding the ball of glowing light in front of her, and traipsed through the darkened city, wiping moisture off her cheeks. Nelar was a humid place, and often unpleasant. At times, it was difficult to breathe. There was a foul odor to the air, a mixture of mold and something she couldn’t quite place. She tolerated the city but didn’t love it.

  She reached the small home that she and Eva rented, pushing it open. Eva sat near a crackling hearth, a glass of wine already in hand, looking over to her.

  “I guess we’re staying.”

  “That’s unexpected,” Eva said. There was a slight slur to her words.

  Jayna glanced to the bottle of wine resting on the floor in front of her and wondered how much Eva had already drunk.

  “Now we are looking for more than just the dark creatures.” Eva leaned forward, frowning. “He thinks there will be volar. Or possibly dark sorcerers.”

  “Are you ready for that?”

  Jayna grabbed a glass and took a seat across from Eva near the fire. The warmth wasn’t unpleasant, but it wasn’t necessary. The city was warm enough. Still, it was a dry heat, and it burned away some of the dampness in the air. She poured herself a glass of wine, ignoring Eva’s annoyed look. “I don’t know. But it seems like I don’t have much choice in the matter.”

  2

  The streets were empty, though not completely so. It was late enough that anyone who was out had some purpose, and at this time of night, Jayna suspected that most of them had nefarious reasons.

  “You sure about this?” she asked Eva, looking over to her.

  They crept along the streets. Most of the buildings along here were of a single story and made of stones slicked by the humidity in the air. Moss grew along many of them, giving off a pale glow and leaving a faint reflection, an illumination, in the night. It was one more thing about this annoying city that she didn’t love. There were no places that were completely dark.

  “You wanted evidence of dark magic users.”

  Jayna glanced down at her ring. “I haven’t felt anything.”

  “Are you sure you would?”

  “No.”

  While she believed she would know when magic was used around her, she wasn’t completely convinced she would know dark magic. It was different from following a creature tainted by dark magic. Those had a particular sense to them, and more than that, they caused the ring to constrict. She had never felt a constriction in any other city she had visited. And she still did not now.

  “I’ve been asking around, and I have heard a few things that led me to think we will find them here.”

  “In a tavern?”

  Eva shrugged. “I didn’t say it was unpleasant work.”

  It had been two days since Ceran had called to her in the forest, and in that time, both she and Eva had searched through the city, looking for anything that might suggest dark magic users. Eva was better equipped for them than Jayna. People tended to share things with her that they wouldn’t share with others. Jayna wasn’t sure why, and couldn’t tell whether it was some part of the magic Eva possessed, or whether it was simply her.

  They stopped at a small, dark, stone building, the moss that covered many of the buildings nearby having been scrubbed free, though not completely. There remained a hint of a glowing layer of it, and the pale light reflected off the dampness of the stone.

  “Do I even want to know how you found this place?”

  “Do you?” Eva asked.

  Jayna just laughed, but she cut herself off as Eva pushed the door to the tavern open. There was a steady din of voices inside, suggesting that despite its appearance, it was a popular location. She followed Eva into the tavern. It was dark, with only a few lanterns for light and a darkened hearth along one wall, the damp logs stacked inside it suggesting that it hadn’t been used for years. There were about a dozen tables inside, and most had people seated around them. Eva took a seat at a table near the back of the tavern, and she looked up, locking eyes with one of the servers, before turning her attention back to Jayna.

  “I don’t detect anything here,” Jayna said.

  Detecting sorcery was not a difficult challenge—at least, most of the time. There were ways to do so, but often that involved using sorcery itself. She tried to avoid doing that as much as she could. If the Sorcerers’ Society detected that she was using unregulated magic, they would come after her. They were far enough to the edge of the kingdom that there weren’t nearly as many sorcerers here as there were in other places, and their influence was not as powerful here as it was elsewhere
, but the possibility remained that they might be around.

  “Give it time,” Eva said. She flashed a smile when a young man approached the table. He grinned at her, his smile lopsided. “I hear you recently acquired a cask of Yilt wine.”

  The young man—or boy, more likely—nodded. He continued to grin ruefully at Eva. “We did. Master Nev was pleased. He thinks it might even draw people in. I guess I can tell him that it worked.”

  Eva nodded. “We will take two glasses. Oh, and a bottle to go.”

  The boy’s eyes widened. “I’m supposed to make sure you have enough coin before I fill the bottle,” he said. He glanced behind him before turning back to Eva. “I’m sorry. Not that you don’t look like you can afford a bottle, it’s just—”

  “We understand,” Jayna said, noting how Eva’s brow had darkened. She fished into her pocket and pulled out two Nelar silvers. “I don’t know how much you need, but . . .”

  The boy flushed. “That will be more than enough. Again, I’m sorry.”

  “The wine,” Eva said, in a shorter tone than she had the last time.

  “Of course.”

  He scurried away.

  “You know, for someone who is good with people—at least, good with getting information on people—you can be somewhat of an ass when it comes to your wine.”

  “I don’t mess with fools when it comes to that,” Eva said, sweeping her gaze around the inside of the tavern. “Now, if the rumors are correct, there are a couple of men new to the city who have been coming in here more often. The tavern owner—”

  “Nev?”

  Eva nodded. “That’s the one. He told me they’ve been meeting here for the last week. He overheard their conversation, and . . .” She spread her hands off to either side of her. “Like I said. I don’t know if they are volar, but it’s likely. Probable, even.”

  The boy returned, carrying a bottle and two full glasses.

  “How much?” Jayna asked.

  “Just one silver.” He glanced over to Eva. “And I’m surprised you were able to get it for so little. When Master Nev heard who it was for, he said he didn’t want to charge you too much.”

  Eva looked past the boy and flashed a smile, but it wasn’t for him. It was for a dark-haired, older man, leaning on a counter running along the back wall.

  “You can tell Master Nev that I thank him for his generosity.”

  The boy bobbed his head then scurried off.

  “You could have been like that to the boy,” Jayna said.

  Eva took a drink, closing her eyes and sighing. “It really is a wonderful vintage.”

  Jayna just chuckled. She watched Eva as she slowly drank half the glass, saying nothing the entire time, and finally opened her eyes again, looking across the table to Jayna, as if realizing she was still there.

  “It’s times like these when I seem to remember things,” she said.

  “Wine won’t fill your memories. Most would claim that it takes them.”

  “It’s not the wine,” she said, shaking her head then leaning back and taking another drink. “It’s more what I feel when I drink it. With the right glass, I can taste the grapes, the earth, and can feel.” She shook her head again, breathing out slowly. “It doesn’t make any sense to me.”

  Jayna had learned not to push Eva, especially not when it came to her fragmented memories. She had some intact memories, such as how to use the strange magic she possessed, though she didn’t like to talk about that either. She knew nothing about where she was from, nothing other than her name. Jayna even wondered if Eva truly was her name. There was the possibility she had simply made it up.

  “I often see things that remind me of my brother,” Jayna admitted. She reached for her pocket before she realized what she was doing. She kept a letter folded up in there from her brother, Jonathan. She had looked at it often enough that she had long ago memorized its contents.

  In his neat script, he had scrawled a note stating that he was going to be gone for a month, and not to worry, then he had drawn a symbol. Or a pattern. She didn’t know.

  When he had disappeared, a common occurrence for him, a month wasn’t a long time. He often disappeared for several months at a time when taking jobs, but he always sent word back to her. After what had happened to their parents, Jonathan had made sure she was cared for. It was only after his last disappearance that he had stopped providing care for her, that he had stopped giving her attention, and it was the first time she had felt truly alone.

  She twisted the dragon stone ring on her finger, the one she had gotten from Ceran.

  “You’ve been chasing rumors of your brother for as long as I’ve known you,” Eva said. “But what kind of thief would be all the way out here?”

  The thief being Jonathan. “I don’t know,” she said. “Is . . .”

  She trailed off as the ring started to throb.

  It was a different throbbing from what she had felt when chasing dark creatures, and different from the vibration she had felt when Ceran summoned her. This was something soft, though it steadily began to squeeze.

  She stared at the ring, but it didn’t change. It never did. The stone was impossibly hard, and while it looked like bone, she didn’t think it actually was. She didn’t know what kind of enchantment it had, though she was certain it was enchanted. It had to be for it to grant her a connection to Ceran.

  “Something is coming,” she said.

  Jayna turned her attention to the door. The pressure on the ring persisted, growing more intense.

  Then the door came open.

  She had always imagined dark sorcerers having a specific appearance—black cloaks, rather than the maroon ones worn by those in the Society. Enchantments fueled by pain and sacrifice.

  These men looked normal.

  But the pressure along the ring persisted.

  “Volar. It has to be.”

  One of the men had a pointed nose and a tight goatee. The other was short, almost foppish, which made him stand out a bit inside the Wandering Pen, the tavern that even Jayna would rather not be in.

  They took a seat at a table in the corner.

  The ring continued to squeeze.

  “Go over there,” Eva said.

  Jayna glanced in her direction before shaking her head. “I don’t need to go over there. I need to know what they are talking about.”

  “Are they saying anything?” Eva asked.

  “Not that I can tell,” Jayna muttered.

  She twisted the ring. That wasn’t going to be of much use here. There might be a spell she could use if she could only remember it. That was the issue with having left the Academy when she did. She had learned the basics of sorcery, which was what the Academy taught—how to follow spell books, how to generate magic intentionally—but anything more complicated than that was taught outside of the Academy.

  That was the reason she had needed to learn spells from Ceran.

  There was one that might be useful, which involved drawing the wind. It might carry the words of their conversation over to her.

  But it also might fail.

  She started tracing the pattern, at least as much as she remembered of it, on the table.

  Eva looked over. “Are you sure about that?”

  Jayna shook her head. “Not really.” She looked up. “You know that you could—”

  “No.”

  “You don’t even want to try?”

  “I think I have tried enough on your behalf lately.”

  “You could help, you know.”

  Eva fell silent and took another drink of her wine.

  That was all the answer Jayna was going to get.

  She would have to do this herself.

  She completed the pattern and studied it for a moment. It looked right, but it could also be spectacularly wrong. She needed to hear what the men were saying. If she pushed just a hint of power into the sorcery, maybe she wouldn’t flood it.

  She began to draw upon the power within her. />
  As she did, she powered the pattern and felt it activate.

  It was subtle, but that was what she was going for.

  She directed the pattern toward the men.

  It caused a gentle current of air to pull across the tavern, spiraling around, almost as if someone had thrown the door open.

  Their voices came to her—muted, but clear enough that she could hear.

  “We only need a few more pieces before we can begin.”

  “Not just pieces. Days.”

  “I know when the festival will take place.”

  Jayna frowned, trying not to look like she was listening.

  Days?

  “Can you hear this?”

  “I think everyone can hear this,” Eva said.

  “Great,” Jayna muttered.

  “If others are caught in conversation, they might not realize why they can hear this.”

  “Festival,” Jayna whispered.

  “I’m ready to finally reach the real . . .”

  His voice went silent, and she realized her spell wasn’t strong enough.

  “. . . festival of morn . . .”

  Eva leaned closer to her. “Morn?”

  Jayna’s breath caught. “Not morn. Mourn. As in mourning.” She turned to the men. She’d heard of the festival before. “Dark magic,” she explained, releasing some of the tension within her spell. “And supposedly a superstition, though everything I’ve seen tells me that superstitions are real enough.”

  A Festival of Mourn was one way to call upon dark power. It was a way of accessing dark magic directly.

  And they were going to hold one.

  The question was why.

  “This is what Ceran wanted me to find.” Maybe even stop it. The two men didn’t look terrifying. She had faced worse. And volar weren’t powerful. They might have powerful enchantments, but she suspected that she could handle a simple enchantment.