can trust. The lies of the Twelve have turned the world against you. And in this moment, you cannot even control your own body. Your gentlest touch could kill those you love, and the pain of that will eventually drive you mad.”
Thorn said nothing.
“I’ll tell you true, Sister Thorn. I don’t trust you. Were it in my hands alone, I would send you to one of our safehouses far from Sharn, let you learn your lessons in safety and solitude. But I have my orders.” He glanced at Dreck and scowled. “There are those who have taken an interest in you, fallen Lantern. And so it is time for you to make a choice. Time for you to embrace your new family-or to turn your back on us and face the world alone.”
“I won’t kill for gold alone.”
Dreck spoke again. “You know nothing, beloved. In days past we have taken gold for our deeds, but that will be the least of your worries in the days that lie ahead. We are your people now. We are your nation. And we have many enemies. Yesterday you killed to defend yourself. Are you willing to do the same tomorrow? Will you fight to protect others like yourself?”
Thorn looked down at the table. She rubbed her fingers across her dragonmark, letting her left hand rest on Steel’s hilt. The dagger remained stubbornly silent.
“Yes,” she said at last.
“At least there is some wisdom within you,” Fileon said. “We shall see if you have the courage to back your words. Now come. Let us see what you can do.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Dragon Towers Lharvion 19, 999 YK
Thorn tossed a pinch of powdered silver into the air and whispered three words in the language of dragons. The metal vaporized. Glittering smoke drifted across the hallway, and Thorn watched it drift. There. She saw the pattern in the smoke, a ghostly web traced through the mist.
“Pathetic,” Fileon said.
Thorn ignored him, holding fast to her memories of the nebulous grid. She drew out a length of mithral wire and straightened it into a long probe.
“I watched my daughter run this path,” Fileon said. “Half your age and mad as five rats. She reached the door before the quarter mark on the hourglass.”
Thorn knew the halfling was sneering at her. Over the course of the last two days, his disapproval had fixed in Thorn’s mind. Part of it was the typical bluster of the drill sergeant. But the more time she spent around Fileon, the more certain she became that he had been ordered to train her. And for whatever reason, he chafed at the command. Dreck stood silently beside the halfling, his metal face unreadable. His eyes were two different colors- one formed from red crystal, the other as green as the mark on his face.
She pushed Fileon’s criticisms from her mind, focusing on her task. Keeping the image of the ward in her mind, she slowly pushed the wire forward. If she brushed a single strand of the invisible web, she would unleash the power trapped within the ward. It was a deadly game, but one she excelled at. A moment later, the probe penetrated the field. Though Thorn couldn’t see the patterns, she knew that she’d threaded the wire through a nexus of mystical strands.
Thorn reached down with her left hand and picked up a vial filled with water infused with the energies of Mabar. Pulling out the stopper with her teeth, she poured a few drops onto the wire. The glittering liquid flowed along the length of the probe, and the instant it reached the end, Thorn whispered another incantation. There was no change in the air, no visible sign of success, but she felt a faint pressure in her mind as she spoke. She twisted the verse, drawing out syllables in response to this ghostly presence… and then it was gone. All that remained was the lock on the door, and compared to wrestling with the forces of the magic, it was a trivial task.
Fileon wasn’t impressed. “Don’t be so proud of yourself, Sister Thorn. Do you suppose we have barrels of nightwater in the wine cellar? Every drop of that fluid is precious. More precious than your blood.”
Thorn said nothing. Didn’t even shrug. She’d quickly learned that the best way to deal with these jibes was to show no interest at all. For the last three days, she had endured a battery of challenges, a grueling gauntlet designed to test her ability to operate both on the battlefield and in the shadows. And whatever Fileon might say about it, Thorn was confident she’d exceeded expectations. She drew Steel and idly spun the dagger in her hand.
“What’s next?” she asked.
Fileon smiled. An increasingly rare occurrence. He walked up to the door that Thorn had unlocked and opened it. Three beasts waited on the other side-rats the size of wolfhounds, savage creatures from the deep sewers of Sharn. They snarled as they caught sight of Thorn.
“Combat,” said Fileon.
The rats charged into the room.
Thorn had faced many trials over the past few days. The only ones she’d actually enjoyed were these combat sessions with Fileon and his daughter. Zae might just be as mad as five rats. Certainly, she spent more time talking to the creatures than she did to anyone else. And the rats listened to her, answered her calls, which was why she was here in the training room with her father. She’d summoned the massive sewer rats who were hounding Thorn and seeking to tear the flesh from her bones.
We’ve fought wyverns in Woodhelm and basilisks in Droaam, Steel whispered as Thorn vaulted over one of the beasts. I was made for greater things than killing sewer rats.
Thorn could hardly respond, with Fileon and Dreck watching her every move. She was bleeding from multiple bites, and she hoped the creatures weren’t carrying any sort of disease. The lead beast was harrying her, searching for an opening to tear out a tendon. As it leaped at her, Thorn dropped into a three-point stance and slammed her mithral bracer into the rat’s mouth, shattering teeth and sending the animal skidding across the floor.
“You are a vessel for pain,” Fileon called out to her. “Don’t think. Feel. Feel the pain and anger of your enemies, and step out of their path.”
The halfling had some fascinating ideas about what Thorn should be able to achieve with her aberrant dragonmark. In these sessions he seemed to forget his anger, seeking only to help her to understand her gift. Unfortunately for Thorn, it was a gift she didn’t possess. Thorn wasn’t a vessel for pain. There was no deeper well of power for her to tap into. But she had talents of her own, gifts which might serve the same purpose. Her eyes could pierce the darkness, and in Droaam she’d learned that all of her senses had been equally enhanced. If she relaxed and let her instincts guide her, she could feel the motion around her. Even though she couldn’t see them, she could sense the rats darting around her, preparing to attack from all sides. As the beasts charged, Thorn leaped and twisted to the side, landing behind the rats.
“Yes!” Fileon said. “Now fight. And let the last one fall by your mark.”
Steel’s observation about the rats had been apt, and normally Thorn would have taken no pleasure in killing dumb animals. But these beasts had her blood on their teeth, and after spending so much time dodging them, Thorn was hungry for vengeance. Claws left gouges on wood as the rats charged her once more. A sweeping kick scattered her enemies, and the rest was Steel and blood. Thorn was swift and precise, knocking her enemies aside with her armored forearm and following with a deadly thrust.
Her final foe was the rat with the broken teeth. Blood dripped from his mouth, and he moved sluggishly; his dedication to the fight was impressive. But the outcome was never in question. Thorn caught the rat with an open- handed slap, and as their flesh met, she unleashed the power of her false mark. The tattoo burned against her skin, and as before, the pain was agonizing. Although it was no true dragonmark, she found that Fileon’s lessons helped her deal with the pain.
Do not fight it. Do not feel it. Let it flow through you; do not seek to dam the river.
No easy task. Part of her wanted to claw her face, to gouge the mark from her skin. But she fought this instinct, focusing all of her attention on the rat. The pain was intense, but it lasted only an instant. The beast squealed and collapsed.
Thorn pulled out a cloth to clean the blood off of Steel and knelt down to examine her own injuries. As she
