Read Online Endless Night by D.K. Holmberg - Free Book Online Page A

why this man was here? Did he intend to take Oliver with him?
    “Who are you?”
    The old man grunted and waved to one of the waitresses. In this tavern, Oliver had found the service to be lacking, but the old man managed to catch her attention quickly, and she hurried over, smiling broadly at him as she brought him a mug of ale. The man flipped her a silver before she darted off.
    The man took a drink of the ale and then set it down. “Not many places brew it the old way,” he said, wiping his sleeve across his face. As he did, there was a flash where cleaner skin shone through, but then it faded. It happened so quickly and resolved so fast that Oliver realized the illusion.
    Plucking at the shaping with strands of water, he started to peel it away, but then his connection to water was cut off. It simply was not there anymore.
    He gasped.
    “It would be best if you leave that alone,” the old man said.
    With that, his shaping returned.
    “You’re him,” Oliver said.
    The old man grunted again. “I’m me.”
    “You run the—” He looked around and lowered his voice as he leaned toward the old man. Whatever else the illusion might be, the stench most certainly was not an illusion. “You run the barracks.”
    The old man took another drink of ale. “You called for Eldridge. He is away.”
    “So you came?”
    The old man grunted again. “We have an agreement of sorts. I watch for him, and he watches for me.”
    Oliver had heard of Cheneth, the scholar who ran the barracks, but had never met him. As far as he could determine, Cheneth had never been in Atenas. The College of Scholars was not situated in the city, but there were enough scholars throughout the city that it might as well be. None really knew where to find the college, and none of Oliver’s questioning had ever revealed the answer. They held a unique position in Atenas, one where they advised the council but held no real authority. Not like what he’d learned of in the barracks.
    But though he had heard of Cheneth, he had not expected this . The man sitting across from him appeared like nothing more than a dirty villager, but the power that was required to simply separate him from his ability to shape would be enormous. What scholar possessed that type of power?
    When Oliver didn’t say anything, Cheneth leaned toward him. Even his teeth had a crooked and blackened appearance. “Why did you summon Eldridge, Master Bestrun?”
    Oliver composed himself and wrapped a shaping of water around his mind, pulling it tight against himself. He didn’t want to be separated from shaping again. The slight pull of Cheneth’s lips suggested that he knew what Oliver had done. If he could tell what he did, would it matter to him?
    Maybe this was a mistake. He should have considered his options before calling Eldridge. As of now, Eldridge owed him a favor for attempting to heal Wyath. But what would he owe Eldridge for helping?
    He took a breath. He could do nothing more than explain why he had come. And then Cheneth could decide if he wanted to help.
    “The council attempted to shape me,” he said in a hushed voice.
    Cheneth blinked. For a moment, the illusion covering his features faded, but it returned quickly. “Why would they have tried to shape you?”
    “I don’t know. I was summoned to the Seat, and when I arrived, there was a subtle shaping that prevented me from leaving. I felt something”—he tried thinking of the words to describe what he felt, but failed—“something in my head.”
    “And you managed to escape?”
    “I’m here, aren’t I?”
    “Hmm.”
    Cheneth grabbed his wrists so suddenly and so quickly that Oliver didn’t have a chance to react. Something surged through him, a shaping of such force and such strength that Oliver didn’t only sense its power, he felt it, the way you could feel heat rising from an oven. Cheneth squeezed his wrists, and the power flowed over him, raged through him, and then relaxed as Cheneth released