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

next? What if the houses decide that the Citadel shouldn’t employ half-elves? Do I find myself on a suicide mission in Darguun?”
    An unlikely scenario
, Steel replied.
House Lyrandar is one of the most influential voices in the Twelve, and Boranel has always had strong ties to Medani. Both are Khoravar houses. It’s more likely they’d try to recruit you than have you killed
.
    “Recruit me? From where I stand, I’m already working for them. And what if I do have an aberrant mark?”
    You do not. And you are ignoring the greater issue. This house takes its name from Halas Tarkanan. During the War of the Mark, it was Tarkanan who destroyed the greatest city of the age
.
    “And who started the War of the Mark? The Twelve.”
    That’s not the point, and you know it. The city of Dorasharn was not built by the Twelve. Its citizens possessed no dragonmarks of any sort. Whether you place the blame on Tarkanan or the Twelve, tens of thousands of innocent people died in the struggle between them
.
    Thorn considered this. The stone in her neck pulsed against her bone, an echo of the pain she felt when she used the false mark. She heard Dreck’s words again: We are the children of Khyber, and our blessings are fury and pain.
    I must know, Lantern Thorn
. Steel’s whisper was cold and steady.
Are you confident in your ability to complete this mission?
    “I am loyal to Breland,” Thorn said, laying her hand across the blade. “And I will do whatever I must to protect my country.”
    Then let us see what tomorrow brings
.
    Thorn slid off the bed and knelt on the floor in the corner of the room. She thought back to the lessons of the day: You must learn to hone your anger, to make it a blade you can unsheathe and release when battle is done. She might not have an aberrant dragonmark, but the ember of fury was there. And she wanted to let it go.

C HAPTER S IX
Dragon Towers
Lharvion 20, 999 YK
    D reck woke her early in the morning, his mismatched eyes gleaming in the dim light of dawn. Fileon was waiting for her in the dining hall.
    “I wish I had a choice in this,” Fileon said to Thorn. “You are still a child when it comes to mastering your mark, and I doubt you are prepared to do what must be done.”
    Thorn was growing tired of the constant needling. “It seems to me I’ve passed every test you’ve laid before me, ‘brother.’”
    Fileon ran his fingers along his withered arm, and traces of crimson light followed the motion. “Watch your tone, sister. I have spent years training our kind, helping the Children of Khyber find the path to power. I have seen friends driven mad and watched my lover waste away. Now you come to us, just as the Son of Khyber said you would. A Dark Lantern with shards in her spine. An assassin with skills to match our best, touched by Khyber in our moment of need. Quite fortunate for us, yes?”
    “Not so fortunate for me,” Thorn said. She couldn’ttell—was he questioning her story? She ran her fingers over her mark. “I’m the one who’s going to be spat on when people see my face.”
    Dreck spoke before Fileon could respond. “Release this anger, both of you. Yes, beloved, our blessing is a burden. And you, Shaper of the Young, do not fear what destiny has given us. For what are dragonmarks but the symbols of the great Prophecy itself? It is fate that marked the Lantern and brought our paths together.”
    “So I’ve been told,” Fileon said. He looked back at Thorn. “Perhaps the hand of Khyber truly is at work. If so, you should have no trouble with the task that lies ahead.”
    She nodded. “You said that today I’d face our true foes. What did you mean by that?”
    Fileon drew a leather cylinder from his robes and passed it over the table. It held two sheets of parchment. The first was a sketch of a brooch, an engraved circle crossed with a pin in the shape of a silver sword. The second was the image of a man—a weathered soldier with close-cropped hair and a grim