Blood of the Watcher (The Dark Ability Book 4) (14 page)

Rsiran watched Jessa. Brusus asked much the same as Haern. Could he? Would he really be able to attack—and kill—if it came to it? But he’d already shown what he would do for her when he killed Shael, so he knew that for her, he would do whatever was needed. “This is what we need to do, Brusus.”

Brusus grunted. “Didn’t say it wasn’t the right move, only that it was dangerous.”

There was a time when Brusus would have told him the next steps to take, but that was before Rsiran had shown them that the growing battles were about more than simply the Forgotten and the Elvraeth in Elaeavn. Even with that, there were questions they didn’t have answers for.
How
could Venass use lorcith to recreate his ability? And if they could do that with lorcith, what else could they replicate? Or would it be like Della feared, that if they learned of how he could work with lorcith, and could use that connection to create items that would defend against Elvraeth abilities, would they seek to use that as well?

Now that he’d been to the heart of the palace…and maybe not even the palace—Rsiran wasn’t completely convinced that he had still been in the palace when he’d Slid to the circle of crystals—he understood that there was something more to what Venass and the Forgotten wanted.

“Hopefully Haern helped me to be dangerous too,” Rsiran said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

Brusus clapped him on his shoulder and smiled. “You
could
be dangerous, Rsiran, but you’ve got to know when compassion gets you killed. You showed that with Josun—”

“And your father,” Jessa added.

“Maybe him as well,” Brusus agreed. “With what’s coming, if what we
think
is really coming, I think you’re going to have to harden your heart.”

Rsiran looked to Thyr, detecting the call of the heartstone within the city that he suspected came from Thom. After what the man had done to Haern, and almost had done to Jessa, he didn’t think he would have any trouble hardening his heart.

But Brusus was right. He’d been captured too many times, mostly because he
had
hesitated. What would have happened had he been willing to finish Josun when he first captured him? What would have happened had he been willing to take a harder stance when they found the Forgotten? Or Evaelyn? Even in Venass?

There was no guarantee that it would have worked, or that he would have survived, but so far, that was all that he had done. Survival was no longer his only goal.

He glanced at Jessa watching him with narrowed eyes, and knew she was doing that thing she did… somehow reading him. She knew him so well, how he thought, when he was troubled, or when he simply needed someone to listen to.

More than anything, he would do what it took to keep her safe.

He readied three knives,
pulling
on the lorcith in them. “Ready?” he asked, looking to Brusus and Jessa.

She took his hand, and Brusus hesitated, his pale green eyes flaring brighter for the briefest moment. Did Brusus think to Read him? With the lorcith-infused barriers that Rsiran kept in his mind, Brusus would have difficulty. Even more so when Rsiran strengthened them with the heartstone. That was what he counted on when it came to Thom. It was the only thing that would keep him safe. He didn’t have the lorcith bracelets like Jessa did to keep him safe, and didn’t have the natural ability to Compel that kept Brusus safe.

But what he wanted was no secret. The fact that he wanted to keep his friends safe was no secret. That he wanted to protect Jessa was no kind of secret.

Then Brusus grabbed his arm. “Careful,” he said softly.

Rsiran focused on the distant edge of Thyr and, using the modified way that he’d learned to Slide,
pulled
them to the city.

T
hey emerged
at the edge of the city. Thyr was one of the great cities, and a place where traders from all over came to convene. It was an open city, but still a massive wall that was a mixture of stone and iron enclosed it. He had made a point of emerging in the shadows of a clump of trees, and was glad that he had. Guards patrolled along the top of the wall, though Rsiran’s Sight was still too weak to count more than a pair of guards. Each of the guards wore a short sword, and both carried crossbows held ready as they patrolled.

He shivered. Much like Asador, Thyr felt foreign to him. There were parts of Elaeavn where he felt equally out of place, such as the times he wandered through Upper Town, or when he had risked entering the Floating Palace, or even the Alchemist Guild.

Jessa squeezed his hand, as if she understood what he was thinking. Even though he could Slide, and even though his ability allowed him to travel wherever he could imagine, there was a part of him that did not feel at home anywhere, not anymore.

He glanced at Jessa, “Are you ready?” he asked.

“As much as I can be. You able to return us if needed?” she whispered.

There was the distant sense of Venass that pulled on him, though Rsiran didn’t really know what it was that he detected. Was it the lorcith they used, or was there something else entirely? Not the alloy, though he suspected they were familiar with that as well. Whatever drew him was something else.

“You don’t want to Slide us all the way to wherever Thom is?” Brusus asked Rsiran, motioning for them to start toward the massive gates allowing access to the city.

“I thought about it,” Rsiran said, “but what happens if we emerge to find him with others? What happens if they’re all armed like them?” he asked, motioning to the guards atop the wall. Closer up, he caught the way the moonlight traced silver streaks along their armor. Their chests and necks were covered, keeping them as safe as possible. His knives wouldn’t do much good, at least, not short of killing, and that was something Rsiran wasn’t ready to do. And there was a limit to what he might be able to do if surrounded by assassins. Haern had shown him that his ability to Slide and push knives could be countered by someone with incredible skill. “Besides, Sliding all the way to him is unreliable.”

“I thought you had control of your gift?” Brusus said. He nodded to a guard stationed at the entrance to the city, keeping his head bowed and his eyes focused on the ground.

Rsiran copied the movement, and Jessa did the same. They would stand out here, not only for the green of their eyes—well, not Brusus Pushing with a subtle influence that masked the color of his eyes—but also for their height. Rsiran had noted the same when he’d been through Asador. The people he’d seen had all been shorter than he was, some significantly so.

“I’ve got control, but with heartstone…” He shrugged.

How to explain to Brusus what it was about the metal that made it so unique? There was less control with heartstone than with lorcith, and he didn’t really know why that should be. It had a slippery quality to it, especially in the pure form. In an alloy—or what he called an alloy, since it never truly mixed with the lorcith—the heartstone gave him a bit more control, but nothing like the exquisite sense he had with lorcith.

That sense was even stronger than it had been, as were most of his abilities since he’d held the crystal. Even his sense of heartstone was improved, so it was possible that the control that he sought and feared he didn’t have was actually much better than he believed, but he hadn’t the time to truly test it in any meaningful way yet.

“Say no more,” Brusus said with a wave of his hand.

Within the city itself, there was a cacophony of sound, even at this time of night. Occasional shouts split the night, some screams, and every so often, he heard the barking of dogs. No cats. Not like in Elaeavn. Music drifted toward him, though muted, and with unfamiliar instruments.

Smells assaulted him as well, that of sweat, and filth, and, surprisingly, blood. His boots rang off the hard stone, but side streets were nothing more than hard-packed earth. Piles of refuse littered these alleys, much worse than he’d ever seen in Elaeavn, even in Lower Town.

This was the place his father had been sent to avoid the call of lorcith. That meant there were smiths here, men his father had learned from. Could Rsiran find a master smith to learn from outside of Elaeavn? There was only so much that he could learn listening to lorcith.

A painful shout shook him from his thoughts, and he looked over to his friends.

“This is a mistake,” he said. “This is worse than Asador.”

Brusus laughed softly, shaking his head as he did. “You’ll get used to it. Many of the ‘Great’ cities are more like the worst parts of Lower Town.”

“Smells worse than Lower Town,” Jessa said.

“Even near the docks?” Brusus asked, turning up his nose.

“You get used to the docks,” Jessa said. “At least there’s safety there. No fear that someone will grab you and…”

She didn’t finish, but Rsiran didn’t need her to and neither did Brusus. Had she ever been to Thyr or Asador before returning to Elaeavn? She’d nearly been sold into slavery in Eban. Was it a place like what he saw here? Looking at it,
smelling
it, made it possible that Thyr could be such a place.

The city made him wonder if maybe Haern had been right that he should have left Jessa behind. It would have certainly been safer. Her only protections were her Sight, and her ability as a sneak. Neither would be of much use when a knife or crossbow bolt came whistling toward her. He didn’t want to be the reason that anything happened to her.

She elbowed him, almost as if Reading him.

“Which way?” Brusus asked.

They stopped in a square, and Rsiran pushed away the sense of lorcith as he reached for heartstone. If he didn’t have to do that, he wouldn’t be left so vulnerable, but he knew of no other way to reach for heartstone. When he did, he didn’t have any of the awareness of the knives he carried, or of the charm he made Jessa, or even the blades that Brusus stored on his person. It was the reason he’d taken to carrying the sword, and the reason that he was thankful that he’d made Jessa the necklace for the charm out of heartstone.

Now that he’d pushed away the sense of lorcith, he sensed the heartstone within the city. When he’d been atop the rock overlooking the Thyrass River, and looking toward the city, the heartstone that he sensed had been like nothing more than a vague light in his mind. This close, he now noticed it as a burning, a calling to him, but even that was muted.

That was how he knew he had come to the right place.

He started forward, following the pull of the heartstone. Jessa came alongside him—her necklace told him that she did—and placed a hand on his arm to guide him. Rsiran left his eyes closed, letting him be drawn toward the heartstone.

He didn’t worry that Brusus would follow. There was no sound from Brusus, but then he was nearly as skilled a sneak as Jessa. Perhaps more so, he decided. Brusus had been the one to train her.

“Rsiran,” Jessa said gently, stopping him with a slight tug on his arm.

He opened his eyes and realized that he’d stopped in front of a building. The heartstone was beyond here, but he would have to go around. Rsiran tapped on the wall and shook his head. He should have paid attention to where he was going.

As he looked around, others on the street watched him. A group of men stood outside what he suspected was a tavern from the way the bawdy music spilled out. One man leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, and vomited.

He could have done without his newly sensitive Sight showing him that.

“We close?” Brusus asked.

“Other side of the building. And we still have a ways to go.”

Brusus reached into the pockets of his cloak at the same time four of the men started down the street toward them. “That’s what I figured. We’re going to have to make a decision here, it seems.”

“What decision?”

“Either you Slide us, or we fight.”

The men stopped about ten paces away. The nearest man had a thick mustache and dark, narrow eyes. He tapped the sword he carried at his side, offering Jessa a leering glance. The others stood on either side of him, slowly inching their way forward, as if they intended to surround them.

“What’s your plan?” Brusus whispered.

Jessa gripped his arm. Holding on like that, he could Slide her to safety, but he’d have to grab Brusus. He could Slide quickly, reach his friend, and pull them away from the city. Then they could wait, and Slide back when the streets were safe.

But would they really be safe? He didn’t know much about Thyr other than Haern’s warning, but this wasn’t a place like Elaeavn. Men carried swords openly and seemed to have no reluctance to attack.

A flash of metal caught his eye. One of the men had a crossbow and aimed it at Jessa.

Rsiran could Slide, but that meant that he risked the man firing. They were far enough away from Elaeavn that reaching Della from this distance posed a real risk.

“Easy, friends,” Brusus said. His words were charged, and Rsiran recognized the way that he Pushed. In some ways, it was like Compelling, though Brusus claimed he didn’t use his ability in that away. Compelling was a deeper piercing into a man’s mind, and dangerous. “We mean you no trouble.”

The nearest man pulled on the sword at his waist. “No trouble? Got enough from your kind these days, don’t we? And that one,” he said, nodding to Jessa, “she’ll fetch plenty of coin.” A dark smile crossed his face. “Leave her and you won’t have much trouble.”

Brusus pulled his hands from his pockets and held a pair of knives outward. He spun them in a quick flourish, nothing like what Haern would have managed, and then stepped into a defensive posture. “Don’t think I can do that. Maybe you would prefer to return to your tavern, have another mug of ale. I’d even be willing to buy, if it would let this end peacefully.”

“This ends peaceful enough if you leave her here.”

Rsiran readied to
push
the knives hidden under his cloak. He didn’t have to hurt the men that much. He could strike them on the arms, or the legs, enough to drop them so that they could move past and down the street. And then he would be able to go after Thom and the heartstone that he knew was in the city.

Brusus flicked a single finger to Rsiran, a warning to keep from
pushing
with his knives.

“Can’t do that. You see, these two are pretty fond of each other, you know. Something like that is plenty hard to find, if you ask me. Don’t want to lose it once you found it.”

Even with these words, Brusus Pushed.

One of the men took a step back and lowered his hand from his sword. The man with the crossbow started to lower his hand, but then jerked it back into place, as if he recognized what Brusus was doing.

Could they know how to avoid Pushing? This close to Venass, he had to assume that they might. The scholars used lorcith, and the Great Watcher knew what else to replicate the abilities of those from Elaeavn, but even that might not be necessary, would it? The Neelish sellsword had managed to resist Brusus’s attempt to Push him when they were attacked, so some trick must be known.

“You think your little tricks will work here?” the nearest man said. “If they worked, it wouldn’t do us any good to take your woman, now would it? Don’t know what tricks she has, but I can tell you that there are plenty of folks who would be pleased to find out.” His dark smile spread. “Now, one hundred gold is a pretty hard price to pass up.” He nodded to his friend, who raised his crossbow. “So as I said, step aside.”

“Then I’m sorry,” Brusus said. He nodded to Rsiran.

Rsiran had been willing to wait on Brusus, willing to avoid needing to harm these men, but he also was willing to do what was needed to keep Jessa safe. If they intended to attack them and take her, he would stop them.

With something almost like a flicker of pressure, he
pushed
the knives hidden beneath his cloak toward the three men. Each knife went a different direction, targeting each of the men.

The man with the crossbow was hit first, and dropped the crossbow. Brusus was there in a heartbeat, holding the tip of one of his knives against the man’s throat.

The other knife struck the man with the sword in the shoulder, and he grunted, before dropping his sword. Rsiran unsheathed the heartstone blade and held it out from him. He had been training with the sword, but wouldn’t be able to do much to defend them if it came to it. He was better with the knives. At least those he could control.

The third knife missed, and the man who had been backing away switched directions and reached for Jessa, wrenching her toward him, and away from Rsiran. He held his knife against her throat with a shaky hand and kept Jessa between Rsiran and him so that another knife wouldn’t be a simple attack.

The nearest man smiled, unmindful of the knife protruding from his shoulder. “Seems we’ve got a bit of a standoff, don’t we? And we’ve got your girl.” He nodded toward the other man who started backing away, pulling Jessa with him.

Rsiran glanced over at Brusus, who appeared uncertain, his eyes slightly widened. As the man backed down the street with Jessa, his eyes narrowed. “If you think my friend is going to let you leave with her, you’ve made a bigger mistake than you realize.”

The words came to Rsiran even as he was already
pulling
on the knife still embedded in the man’s shoulder and Sliding to emerge behind him. With a flicker of power against the knife, Rsiran sent it spiraling into the man’s back. The man staggered and fell, the knife falling harmlessly away from her throat.

Jessa looked at Rsiran, and he could tell that her neck was unharmed. He Slid again, coming to stand in front of the man with the sword. “You were given a chance to leave,” Rsiran said, anger surging through him.

The man dropped his gaze to his fallen friend. “You don’t even know what you’ve done, do you?”

Rsiran shook, feeling the anger in him burning more brightly than it ever had before. “Do you? We would have left you alone.”