The Heartstone Blade (The Dark Ability Book 2) (11 page)

BOOK: The Heartstone Blade (The Dark Ability Book 2)
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Chapter 15

N
ight had fallen
as Rsiran sat atop Krali Rock, looking out over the city and the water. From up here, everything looked peaceful. Moonlight trailed along the water, creating a pale silver line leading past Firell’s ship and out into the open water of the bay. Far below, lights flickered in windows throughout the city. All except the palace. There, floating away from the rock as it did, steady blue light glowed in several windows, its light so different from that across the rest of the city.

He hadn’t wanted to return to the smithy just yet. Not after what he’d heard. Rsiran didn’t know who Firell had been speaking to, but clearly the smuggler was not happy with what he was doing. It was a feeling he understood well. How long had he labored under his father feeling the same way? Living with the dread that came from fearing what he was and the abilities the Great Watcher had given him?

But this was different even from that. Firell seemed to be in trouble. Rsiran had considered taking the unshaped lorcith off the ship, but now he was not so sure. He was certain that the person Firell worked for was the one responsible for the mining of the lorcith. Those crates were what Firell had been struggling to load on his ship. For Rsiran to take any of the lorcith would put Firell in danger. Whatever else was happening, he didn’t want to do that.

Who would it be? Someone who could influence the constables. In the time that Rsiran had known them, he had seen Shael speak of bribing the constables. That was how Rsiran had his smithy. But this seemed more extensive. Enough to keep their attention off his ship as it moored outside the city. Enough that this other person did not fear his crates would be in danger by sitting in Firell’s ship.

Only one answer made sense to him: the rebellion Josun had been a part of.

But why? Lorcith might be valuable to the Elvraeth, but it was valuable to others only after it had been forged. How many smiths knew how to forge lorcith? Who other than someone from Elaeavn could hear the lorcith’s call to have the skill to shape it?

He sighed. Too many questions without answers. Jessa could help, but he feared admitting to her what he’d been doing. When he told her how he’d left her sleeping on the mat in the smithy while he Slid to the warehouse, she would be angry. But when he told her about Sliding to Firell’s ship? Envisioning the assault he could expect did not require much imagination.

But he had no choice. He needed her help. And Brusus’s too. They needed to work through who Firell worked for. But more than that, they needed to help him. Firell was their friend.

At least he had an answer to the lorcith, even if incomplete. Someone was mining lorcith from Ilphaesn and smuggling it from the city. There really hadn’t been any doubt, but having that confirmed, even if not the reason why, made him feel saner.

But how did they reach the lorcith? The quantity on Firell’s ship was significant. Enough to keep the smith guild stocked for several months. Whether they used the prison mines or some other access remained to be seen. And this person implied to Firell that he had others working now. Did that mean additional prisoners or something else? Did more people mine at night in the secret tunnels?

Questions, all without answers.

He sighed again. It was time for him to seek help. That was the benefit of having friends like Brusus and Jessa; he didn’t have to push through this on his own. If the last few months had taught him nothing else, he now knew that working alongside someone else was better than struggling through on his own.

As much as a hint of dread worked though him at the idea of admitting to Jessa what he’d done on his own, she needed to know. Besides, she might be able to see something he couldn’t. They could return to the warehouse, Slide to the space between the crates. What might she see that he had missed?

But he wouldn’t Slide her back to Firell’s ship. Not until he understood what he was doing. And which Elvraeth was involved. He’d almost lost her the last time they rushed in when an Elvraeth was involved.

Taking another look out from Krali Rock, he breathed deeply. Up here, the salt of the sea mixed with the flavors of the Aisl Forest, almost as if this was where old Elaeavn met the new. Standing atop the rock was the only time he felt like an extension of the Great Watcher.

Lingering a moment longer to gaze over the city, eyes drifting past the Floating Palace, he barely saw any activity along the streets. Just small circles of light burning through windows. Waves crashed distantly and steadily, a sound often lost when standing within the city. Somewhere, an owl hooted. Even though he knew it was not, everything felt at peace.

Rsiran Slid away.

H
e emerged
in the alley alongside the Wretched Barth as he had so many times before. The sudden change from Krali jarred him more than usual. The stink of fish cloyed the air, pushing away the scent of the Aisl that he’d appreciated when looking down at the city. Waves splashing seemed less soothing, almost thunderous. Somewhere, a cat yowled.

Rsiran waited, but none came after. Bad luck.

He hurried from the alley and pushed through the heavy oak door of the Barth. A flutist played tonight, the song dancing from fingers and lips merry. A fire blazed in the hearth, pushing back the chill of the night. A young couple he didn’t recognize sat at one table. A thin, wispy-haired man sat at the bar. He had a familiar face. No one else he recognized sat in the tavern.

Rsiran made his way to their usual table. Arriving first did not suit him. Usually, he would come after working through some forging to find Brusus and Haern several rounds deep, dice already dancing across the table. These days, Jessa usually came with him, though that hadn’t always been the case. A few others Brusus knew would occasionally join them—and Firell when he was in town.

Lianna hurried to the table with a mug of steaming ale. She set it on the table with a wide smile that set her bright green eyes dancing. Her long hair twisted in a bun with what looked to be a fork stuck through it. “Not used to seeing you here so early.”

Early. After everything he’d been through today, it felt late. First Ilphaesn, then the warehouse. What had he been thinking to Slide to Firell’s ship? How many times had he Slid today? Enough that he should be exhausted. And, finally sitting and resting, he realized that he was.

“A long day.”

Lianna smiled and pulled out a stool. She waited for him to nod before she sat. After coming to her tavern as often as he did, she practically felt like one of the group. “Some are like that. Great Watcher knows some days test us more than others. But you’re a strong one, I think. No test too much for you.”

He took a sip of the ale. Had there really been a time when he hadn’t appreciated the flavor of ale? But that had been when he watched his father drinking to excess every night, a time when he feared the heavy-handed strike across his face. Now… now ale simply made him think of relaxing with friends.

“Have you seen the others?”

A playful smile crossed Lianna’s lips. “Haven’t seen your girl yet.”

“Not my girl.”

She arched her eyebrows. “Oh? So someone else gets to play with her then? Might not want to tell Firell that. I think he’d be interested in chasing her. Man practically has a woman in each port, from what I hear. Though not Elaeavn.”

Rsiran laughed. “I don’t think anyone could claim Jessa as theirs.”

“Might be right about that. She’s a spirited one, she is. But suits you, I think. Great Watcher knows she seemed to pull you out of your shell.” Lianna leaned in and lowered her voice. “And if you ask me, I think you take a bit of the edge off of her. But don’t you be telling her I said that.”

He laughed again. Jessa’s edge was part of the reason he liked her so much. Had he an edge like hers, he might have stood up to his father sooner. As it was, he waited until it was too late. And then lost his family. At least he’d had the opportunity to find friends that had become a different kind of family.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell her, but I think she wouldn’t necessarily mind being told she has an edge. Too often, people assume she’s soft because…” He trailed off and looked up at Lianna.

But Lianna laughed. “Why? Because she’s girl?” She snorted. “They thought the same of me when I took over my father’s store. Turned it into the Barth. No woman can run a tavern, they tried to tell me, but what do they know? So long as I’m happy and my customers are happy, well… my tavern be doing just fine.”

“And you’re happy?”

A flicker of darkness passed across her eyes. “Don’t you worry about Lianna. That Brusus will come around.”

That wasn’t what he intended, and her answer took him aback. He knew Lianna and Brusus had a history, but not much more than that. Brusus kept so much of himself secretive. Had Rsiran not saved his life, he doubted that he would ever have learned that Brusus had Elvraeth blood.

“I wasn’t trying to pry…”

Lianna shook her head. “No. I know you don’t. Sometimes Brusus thinks to hide too much. Doesn’t like to let people get too close. I know he wants to protect them, but I don’t think he even knows what might hurt them. As if he needs to protect me! My family has been here for more years than I can count. Nothing going to change that.”

Brusus’s mother probably thought the same thing. Maybe that was why Brusus was so cautious with Lianna.

“Besides, I’ve chased off more than my share of drunks over the years. Most just need a firm hand.” She plucked the fork out of her hair and slammed it down on the table. It pierced the wood and stood on its own. Lianna smiled. “Ah… I’m sorry, Rsiran. Such nice craftsmanship. Should be more careful with that.”

He looked more closely at the fork before realizing it was one he’d made, and not really a fork. Another of the decorative forgings the lorcith had demanded of him, though early on when he had just begun working with lorcith regularly. Even at that time, he hadn’t fought against what the lorcith wanted; let it guide his hands. Those earlier forgings had taught him skills he needed to work more complex shapes.

“It takes more than that to damage lorcith,” he said. He pulled the fork out of the table and handed it back to Lianna. She took it and began swirling her hair back into it, twisting it around the tines. “It’s harder than most.”

“Even the hardest can break. Just have to find one weakness. I’ll be more careful with it. Too pretty to do otherwise. Not like those pots you made me. Those I just abuse!”

Rsiran laughed. Brusus had been the one to come to him asking if he would make Lianna new pots. A way of thanking her, he’d said. Pots were easy, and better out of iron. At the time Brusus had asked, Rsiran’s skill at the forge had improved to the point that he added a few flourishes, giving each a notch to pour out the liquids, and made certain to temper them well. Lianna had loved them, but strangely, she had appreciated the decorative fork he’d given her more than anything else.

“Let me know if you need others. Iron is easy to find.”

Lianna touched her hair and nodded. “Keep an eye on Brusus for me. I think he does too much. All this worry about coin, having you make all those knives. That sort of work is bound to get back to someone.”

Neither of them needed her to say that someone would be the Elvraeth. The Elvraeth learning of his forging lorcith his biggest fear. Not only did he use ore they would consider stolen from their mines, but he used it to create knives and a sword. Weapons. If discovered, too much attention would come down upon everyone he cared about.

“He’s being careful,” Rsiran answered. But as he did, he wondered if that was true. If Firell moved the forgings and lump lorcith from the city, did that really mean he was careful?

“Never really cared so much about coin before. Oh… he cared enough, mind you. Always looking to make a little extra on this deal or that. Always willing to steal from Upper Town.” She said the last in a softer voice, leaning forward again. “Never worked Lower Town, you know. Figured those of us down here by the sea have enough trouble. Probably kept him safe too.”

Rsiran hadn’t known that Brusus never worked Lower Town. And it wasn’t exactly true. The warehouse was in Lower Town, though to Brusus, it belonged to the Elvraeth so might as well be in Upper Town.

“I’ll do what I can, Lianna.”

She smiled and reached across the table to pat his arm. “I know you will. I know you saved him once. I just hope you don’t have to do it again.” She leaned back on the stool and stood. “And I’ve been chatting with you too long. All my other customers might get jealous.” She looked around the tavern. “At least, they will when I get more customers. I’ll let you get back to your ale. Figure Brusus will be here soon. About the right time, you know.”

Lianna made her way back through the bar and into the kitchen. Scents of roasted fish and baking bread drifted out as the door opened. Rsiran took a long drink of his ale and listened to the flutist, a growing warmth working through him as he finally relaxed.

A cool breeze pushed into the tavern when the door opened. Instinctively, Rsiran made sure to reinforce his mental barriers, fortifying them with the image of lorcith. Somehow, they made it so Readers could not pass through.

“Damn!”

Rsiran turned. Brusus hurried in, Firell with him. Brusus wore a long, dark brown cloak, heavily embroidered and looking out of place in Lower Town. The indigo stone on the ring he wore caught the light from the fire. Even Firell looked well dressed, his shirt clean and tucked into simple brown pants.

“Either you ran out of work,” Brusus started, eyes scanning the tavern as he lowered his voice, “or you just needed a drink.”

Rsiran flickered his eyes to Firell and back to Brusus. “Just needed a drink.”

Brusus looked at him, brow furrowing as he sat on the stool next to Rsiran. After a moment, he looked over to where Lianna stood in the kitchen. Wrinkles on his face flattened as the frown disappeared. For a moment, his eyes flared bright green.

“So you’re not working?” Brusus finally asked.

Rsiran tried to force a smile on his face. “Jessa and I had few other things we were looking into.”

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