Son of Khyber: Thorn of Breland by Keith Baker Read Free Book Online

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 did, the halflings studied her fallen foes. The girl Zae said nothing. Of course, she never said anything; her aberrant mark might allow her to communicate with vermin, but if she could speak the common tongue, she’d never had anything to say to Thorn. Zae dressed as a beggar, likely to move more easily through the streets of Sharn. Her hair was matted, her skin crusted with dirt, her body hidden beneath layers of filthy rags. At least four rats lived within her clothing—normal rats, not the giant beasts Thorn had just fought. But they glared at Thorn reproachfully from the folds of Zae’s clothing as the girl examined the dead.
    Fileon, on the other hand, was more concerned about the fact that one of the rats was
not
dead. Her final victim was still twitching and whining.
    “Pathetic,” he said. “Were you so squeamish when you served the Citadel? The pain you feel is the spark that starts a fire. You must unleash the blaze, instead of clinging to the tinder.”
    “It’s frightening,” Thorn said. “It doesn’t feel like a part of me.” This was both lie and truth. Thorn had no fear of her mark, but it wasn’t a part of her. She couldn’t learn to unleash its full power, because she was already using its full power; the living tattoo was designed to stun a victim, and