The Guild Secret (The Dark Ability Book 6) (5 page)

Noise from down the mineshaft caught his attention, and he let out a deep breath as he Slid back to Elaeavn. As he did, he couldn’t shake the vision of the Elder Trees, and he couldn’t shake the sense that he needed to do more to help them.

R
siran Slid
, unable to remain in Elaeavn. With every moment that he remained in the city, he felt more pressure to be doing something else, even if it was nothing more than roaming outside of the city.

Standing now within the trees of the Aisl Forest, darkness felt oppressive, and almost a living thing. An occasional howl deeper in the forest caught his attention, and he shivered, trying not to pay too much attention to it.

Thoughts raced through his mind. How would they defeat Venass when Venass seemed determined to continue to improve the types of weapons they used against him? And they were targeted at
him
, not at anyone else in the city, making him even more uncomfortable with doing nothing more than continuing to forge knives that he was no longer confident would be effective against Venass. Somehow,
he
had to continue to improve, but how would he?

The next Slide took him past Ilphaesn. He sensed it behind him, a massive weight of lorcith that he could practically feel pushing against him. Another Slide carried him farther north. Not east. East would have taken him toward the Thyrass River, and to Thyr. He feared getting close to Thyr and the heart of Venass.

Asador was another matter entirely. He didn’t fear Asador, though he had nearly died there more than once. The next Slide took him within the city. Night kept the streets dark, fitting his mood. He emerged with the next Slide inside the smithy where he’d discovered his sword when Josun had stolen it.

The smithy remained dark, and the air held a musty odor. No one had worked here in some time. Why had Josun brought the sword here? Rsiran needed some way of discovering what he intended, but other than the knife that Josun had left for him in Eban, he had nothing. A bin of metal looked untouched, a layer of dust atop the iron and steel making it clear that no one had been here in ages. The lorcith was gone, though.

He suspected that this was one of the places the Forgotten had forced the abducted smiths to work, but there were other places, as well, deeper underground where they had recovered some of the smiths.

Rsiran Slid again, this time, emerging back in the street. Here, they had faced the Forgotten, friends of his nearly killed. Many had died that day. Without Valn, Jessa would have died, and the Forgotten would not have been slowed.

Why had he come here?

This had been where he had found his father. There was a reason that Venass wanted the master smith. Maybe they had him working with shadowsteel, devising the weapons that they now used. Perhaps he was even responsible for creating the implants they used.

Would his father know who they targeted, or would he have simply done what they asked, hoping that Venass would leave Alyse alone? It was possible they had even told his father how Venass targeted Rsiran. Given that his father had no use for Rsiran and had done his best to remove him from the family, that might have been enough to get him working on their behalf.

He shook the thought away, thinking through what he needed. Della’s advice rang true in his mind, like most of what she told him. Venass had to have enemies other than Elaeavn. But how would he find them? Until all of this started happening, he had never even left the city, and knew relatively little about the outside world. What he needed was someone who
did.
Haern wouldn’t help, but what of Brusus?

The next Slide took him to the edge of the water. Asador, much like Elaeavn, sat on the shores of the sea. Unlike Elaeavn, the shoreline here was flat and sandy rather than the rocky shore of his home. He could just make out the dark shapes of ships moored out in the bay, outlined by the weak light from the new moon. Men and women moved along the docks, an unusual sight compared to Elaeavn where everything would be quiet at this time of night. Taverns lined the streets along the docks, at least a dozen of them, all bawdy and full of loud music. Were he more of a local, such places would be a way to get information, but Rsiran was an outsider in Asador.

But weren’t most people outsiders in this city?

He patted his pockets, ensuring he had his knives. Doing so was nothing more than reflex. The lorcith and heartstone within the knives drew on his awareness, so he always knew when he had them with him. Drawing his hood up over his head, he chose to wander the street.

As he did, he let his focus drift, looking for lorcith or heartstone or anything that might tug on his senses. Nothing really did. There were some of the metals here, but they were decorative for the most part. He found a few items that he’d made, even one knife, but nothing that would be out of the ordinary. Given that Brusus and Firell had made such an effort to ship his knives out of Elaeavn, maintaining the secrecy of their efforts, as well as trying to get as much money for them as possible, there
should
be things that he’d made in the city, much like he hadn’t been terribly surprised to discover something of his in Cort.

Rsiran nearly Slid away, when a particular item caught his attention.

Not another knife. He wasn’t prepared to face Josun Elvraeth tonight. But something unexpected, and an item that he hadn’t made, but one that he had held before, and had held him.

Could he be here?

Rsiran stopped at the door to the tavern and pushed it open.

Loud music assaulted him, that of a steady rhythmic drumming and a stringed instrument that he had never seen before. A singer attempted to scream his voice above the drumming, but failed. Rsiran rubbed at his ears, fearing for the safety of his hearing, but he’d never been a Listener, so what would losing a little matter?

The tavern was full, packed with people standing at tables and mingling between them. Most had the familiar look of fishermen, the same look that he’d seen from men along the docks of Elaeavn. These were hard men, some with piercing through their ears or nose and even a few through their lips. One man had what seemed to be a fishhook through his brow.

Rsiran made an effort not to stare as he scanned the room.

Women made their way through the tavern, as well, but fewer in number. Most of the women appeared as hard as the men, many dressed in loose-fitting or practically non-existent clothing, and several with the same types of piercings as the men. They were fishers, as well, he suspected, but not the kind that came through Elaeavn. Other women had painted faces and wore tight-fitting dresses, and leaned in to whisper softly in men’s—and sometimes women’s—ears before leading them toward the back of the tavern.

He had almost given up on finding Firell when he saw him sitting at a table in the corner of the tavern, a drink clutched in his hand, another man sitting across from him. Firell tossed dice on the table, and the frown that came to his face made it clear that he wasn’t pleased with what he’d rolled. The Elvraeth chains that Rsiran detected were wrapped around his neck, hidden by the heavy cloak that he wore.

Rsiran pushed his way through the crowd, making his way to Firell. As he approached, Firell glanced up, his eyes going wide for a moment before he nodded to the man across from him. The man stood and faced Rsiran. His hand lunged toward him, catching him off guard.

Rsiran grabbed it and twisted the man’s arm behind him, forcing him into a vulnerable position that Haern had shown him. “That’s how you’ll greet me, Firell?” he asked.

The man banged a hand on the table, his head craned around trying to see Firell, but Firell only watched Rsiran. “Why did you come here?” he asked.

“Not for you, if that’s what you’re afraid of.” He nodded to the man. “If I let him go, will he leave me alone, or do I have to put a knife into him?”

Firell watched Rsiran for another moment. “There was a time when I’d have thought that an idle threat from you.”

“Try me,” Rsiran said.

“I did. I think you’ve answered that quite clearly. Let him go. Jonas will leave us alone.”

Jonas nodded, and Rsiran released his arm. He backed away from Rsiran carefully, and Rsiran took his place but repositioned himself against the side wall, giving him a chance to watch Firell and not worry about someone approaching him from behind.

“Why did you come here if not for me, Rsiran?”

“Venass.”

“Don’t you think that’s a dangerous game to chase Venass? They’re known to be deadly, especially their assassins.”

“Haern was one of their assassins. I think I understand them better than you.”

A woman at a nearby table jostled forward, glancing briefly at Rsiran before making her way out of the tavern, weaving heavily from too much ale.

“Ah, well as a man who has lived his entire life within Elaeavn, I think that you don’t
quite
understand Venass nearly as well as some of us who have faced them outside the protection of the city.”

Rsiran scooped the dice off the table. “Protection? There wasn’t much protection when Venass attacked the city.”

Firell leaned toward him. “Venass attacked? You’re sure it was Venass?”

“I’m sure, why?”

Firell glanced at Rsiran’s roll. A pair of ones. Watcher’s eyes. “Only that Venass would not act openly. That’s not there method. They prefer the shadows and hiding.”

Rsiran glanced around the tavern, noting how Firell sat obscured in the shadows here. “Sort of like you, then?”

Firell shrugged. “I’m a smuggler, Rsiran. What else would you expect from me? You wouldn’t expect me to operate openly now, would you?”

He sighed. “You were supposed to be a friend.”

“You know why I did what I did.”

“I know. How is Lena?”

Firell shot Rsiran a heated look. “Careful mentioning names around here. They can be dangerous if overheard by the wrong person.”

“Fine. But how is she?”

“She’s… well. She’s with family. Safe for now.”

Rsiran nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. Truly.”

Firell watched him and snorted. “You actually are. After everything that happened, you aren’t angry?”

“I’m angry enough, but I understand what you did, and why you did it.”

Firell took the dice and shook them, dropping them on the table without taking his eyes off Rsiran. “You haven’t said why you’re here, Rsiran.”

“I have. I’m trying to find a way to stop Venass.”

Firell chuckled. “Many have tried to stop them over the years, but there is no stopping, especially when they send their assassins after you. Why do you even care? If they’re after the Elvraeth, what does it matter to you?”

Firell had been gone from the city for too long for Rsiran to feel comfortable sharing with him what he knew of the crystals, but there was something that Firell could know about, and that wouldn’t matter if he knew.

“My grandfather leads them. I learned of him when they attacked the city. And they still hold my father. I would like to get him back.”

Firell whistled softly. “That… that is unexpected. Thought you didn’t care anything about your family.”

“They hurt me,” he admitted, “but that doesn’t make them any less family, does it? I’ve got to do what I can to find why they’ve taken my father, and I’m going to be the one to stop my grandfather, family ties notwithstanding.”

Firell picked up the dice without ever looking to see what he’d rolled. Rsiran realized that the mug of ale next to him remained untouched. “These are dangerous times, Rsiran. You’ll need to be careful. Not sure that you can keep safe with what’s coming.”

“I’m not the same person that you knew, Firell.”

“I see that. That boy wouldn’t have nearly torn Jonas’s arm off. You got stronger.”

“That’s not all I got.”

Firell tipped his head as he considered Rsiran. “No? What else you got?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Firell leaned forward. “I think if you’re facing Venass, then it matters very much. Something like that will get you killed, and I know that you got someone you care about back in Elaeavn. Unless she’s here with you.” He glanced around the tavern. “I hope you weren’t stupid enough to bring her with you here. This isn’t really a place for a nice girl like Jessa.”

“She’s not here.”

“You came alone? That’s almost as bad.”

“Do you think I’m in danger by coming alone?” Rsiran asked.

Firell shrugged. “No more than me.” He leaned back against the wall and shook the dice in his hand. Rsiran waited for him to drop them onto the table, but he didn’t.

“Do you know what happened with Josun?” he asked.

Firell paused. A troubled look passed across his face, lingering fleetingly before disappearing. “I haven’t seen him since he released Lena.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

“That’s all the answer that you’re going to get.”

“You know something about him. I need to know or I’ll—”

“Or you’ll what?” He flicked a knife from his pocket and set it on the table, point aimed at Rsiran. A steel blade, and well made. “You’ll attack me? I don’t threaten so easily these days, Rsiran.”

He grunted. “I didn’t think you threatened so easily before. And that’s not what I was trying to do. I only wanted to tell you that I need to know what happened to him. I know that he lives.”

“Of course you do. That was the price to release my daughter.”

Rsiran had an awareness of the chains around Firell’s neck. It would be an easy thing to constrict them, and force Firell from the tavern, but that wasn’t why he’d come here. Firell wasn’t his enemy, regardless of what he’d done to him… or what he had failed to do for them. He had betrayed them, and wasn’t any sort of friend that he had claimed to be, but Rsiran couldn’t blame him for what he had done.

“I know that he was in Thyr. I came across a knife of mine there.”

Firell smiled and laughed softly. “A knife? That’s how you know that he was there? Damn, Rsiran, there are plenty of your knives scattered around. What do you think Brusus was doing with them when you were pumping them out?”

“Some were bribes. Others you shipped. I can tell you exactly how many are along the dock here if you would like.”

His eyes widened slightly and he leaned in. His breath smelled slightly of ale, but not as strongly as Rsiran expected. “You can do that? You know how many there are?”