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

no matter what techniques Fileon taught her, its power could not grow.
    To her surprise, it was the warforged Dreck who spoke next. “You must
feel
it, beloved. Not as pain, but as anger. Turn the sensation into emotion, and turn that emotion against your foe. Let your anger grow, and it will serve as the vessel of your power.”
    “But what if I don’t hate my enemy?” she asked. It didn’t matter either way, since these techniques couldn’t increase the power of a false mark. But she was curious to learn more about the forces that drove the aberrants.
    “You must learn to,” Dreck said. “It is the nature of our gift and the burden we must bear. We are the children of Khyber, and our blessings are fury and pain. You must learn to hone your anger, to make it a blade you can unsheathe and release when battle is done.”
    Thorn nodded. “I’ll try,” she said.
    “No,” Fileon said. “Try, and you will fail. Try and you will die—and bring down those who are relying on you. You will have to do better than that.”
    Dreck nodded. “There is fire within you, beloved. But you must seize it if you are to succeed. Doubt, and you will fail. Find that ember of fury.
Know
that this power lies within you. Otherwise, you will fall.”
    Thorn bowed her head. “I understand.”
    “Go,” Fileon said. “Meditate on this. We will try again when you have had time to recover. But tonight is your last chance, sister. We have run out of time for child’s games.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “The Son of Khyber is watching you, beloved.” Dreck’s voice was soft and soothing, but Thorn could see Fileon scowling behind him. “We must ensure that you are ready for the work that lies ahead. Tomorrow you will venture into the world once more. Tomorrow you will face our true foes for the first time.”
    “True foes? Who—”
    Fileon silenced her with a raised hand. The time for conversation was over. “Go. Meditate on the lesson you have learned here. We will continue at the seventh bell.”
    Thorn nodded and turned to go. Behind her, the halfling girl sat on the floor, stroking the fur of the shivering rat.

    “The Son of Khyber,” Thorn mused. She was sitting on the bed in her quarters, with Steel laid across her knees. He’d assured her they weren’t being observed, and she’d personally scoured the room to make sure there were no rats hidden in the walls. “So what do we know?”
    “Child of Khyber” is a common term for those possessing aberrant dragonmarks
, the dagger whispered.
    “It might come as a surprise, but I do actually read the briefing materials. And yes, I would imagine that the leader of this cabal of aberrant assassins actually has an aberrant mark of his own. But what do we actually
know?”
    Very little. Until recently, the house was fully controlled by Thora Tavin. As the halfling said, Tavin seemed content to keep it as a criminal enterprise and shelter for those possessing aberrant dragonmarks
.
    “And yet Tavin is nowhere to be seen. This Son of Khyber seems to be in charge. And if I read the tensions correctly, the old guard—Fileon—doesn’t much care for it.”
    Agreed. Something has changed, and that is why we are here. Our liaison with the Twelve believes that this change in leadership reflects a change in direction for the house
.
    She ignored his reproachful tone—as if she’d forgotten her mission. “Strange. I thought I was one of the King’s Dark Lanterns, not some lackey of Merrix d’Cannith.”
    She found Dreck’s words echoing in her mind: Are you so certain that your actions served the
people
of Breland?
    Steel had no face, but his mental voice had a reproachful tone.
The dragonmarked houses are valuable allies of the Brelish crown. Vital allies, should war begin anew
.
    “This sounds like history repeating itself. The Citadel turned on Fileon’s unit because of pressure from the Twelve. Now I’m putting myself at risk in pursuit of their interests. What happens