Page 50 of The Ashborn

Kienna expected Connak to come. When Tislin sat next to her by the river, relief overcame her. She and Connak were not getting along, and the constant flood of emotion made her magic unstable. Even her charm couldn’t hold it back.

“We spoke, and you are right. You deserved to know Calder was your grandfather, though we truly could not have told you.”

Kienna remained quiet. She didn’t have any more energy to keep fighting them.

“What else would ease the weight of your confusion?”

She exhaled sharply. It was a question she had never considered long enough to know. What did she genuinely want to understand about her world? What would ease the fact that her parents died at the hands of her uncle, who then imprisoned her behind a barrier? The words jumped from her lips, “Who am I?”

Tislin’s face dropped. He pursed his lips. “I cannot answer that. Not because it is hidden, but because it is yours to uncover and decide.”

“I hate the name Kalyra.” It was all she could think to say in that moment, as if her name was all it took to identify who she was. But wasn’t it? Kalyra meant that she accepted her Elvish heritage. Kienna meant…what? She accepted King Vaerin’s choices for her?

Tislin’s lips curved up despite this. “Well, that is a start. But you must know, it is a name given as a birthright.”

Kienna scanned the Goldmere as far west as she could. “I don’t care about birthrights. I left River Storm for freedom.”

A silence sat between them, which only frustrated Kienna. Why wouldn’t they acknowledge her ability to make her own decisions?

“I’m leaving for a while.” Tislin stood. “A Blades mission.”

“Tislin.” Kienna rose quickly. She didn’t know what she was doing or why, but all her sitting around, doing nothing, was driving her insane. “Can I go, too?”

He tilted his head. “Connak won’t⁠—”

“I want to be free, Tislin. Connak doesn’t own me.”

No, Little Flame!

Tislin’s shadows grew with the darkness as he contemplated her request. This would put him in a very hard spot, dealing with Connak afterwards. Kienna didn’t care. She had things worth fighting for in her life now, and she didn’t want to sit idly by as she watched others fight against evil.

“I usually work alone,” he said, his gaze drifting off. “But I’d say we owe you a lifetime’s debt.” He turned. “We leave now. Hold on, and whatever you do, don’t let the shadows touch you.”

Chapter 20

—Kienna—

The moment Tislin pulled them through the shadows into Alverton, Kienna’s knees nearly buckled. Her stomach lurched, her heart slamming against her ribs as if to escape. The world folded inward, light collapsing into darkness and sound twisting into a hollow roar. For an instant, her body was gone, dissolved into the void, weightless and endless. Shadows clawed at her, cold fingers dragging against her skin, whispering in a thousand tongues that all screamed at once. The air was silent and thunderous, suffocating and alive. Only Tislin’s presence held the dark at bay, his magic defending the chaos like a barrier of will alone. By the time her boots hit solid ground and wind brushed her cheeks again, her vision swam. She gasped, clutching her chest, forcing herself to breathe. How the fuck did he do that all the time?

“G-ohh,” Kienna stumbled. “I might—” she paused, working hard to hold the food in her stomach. “Yeah, I might consider swimming back after that.”

“It will pass.” Tislin put his hand on her shoulder until she straightened. “We are looking for an armory.”

Kienna adjusted to the light in the murky city. Alverton looked as it had when they passed through the first time after escaping the desert. It was as gray as River Storm, with the stench of sewage and animal droppings. “Why do we care that they’re making weapons here?”

Tislin peered around the corner of the stone building they were hiding behind. “They are being shadow-marked.”

Kienna cleared her throat for more. Tislin remained fixed on the bustling streets. “Are you going to tell me what shadow-marked means?”

“Pierced with shadows. Imagine me as a blade. If I pierce someone with a shadow, I hold a direct tether of controlling them.”

“Turning them into Shades?”

“Only a Shade can turn another,” Tislin said calmly. “Umbrin more likely.”

Kienna fought the Umbrin in Dalelry. They were soulless, blackened husks, but they still bore the shape of what they’d once been—before the mark. Not quite Shades, but nowhere near alive. They were fast, brutal, and she had no desire to face another one. The thought of shadow-marked weapons churned her stomach, and she feared she’d be seeing one before the day was done.

Tislin summoned a black cloak and tossed it to Kienna. “Cover up. Your face draws attention.”