The Shadowsteel Forge (The Dark Ability Book 5) (28 page)

D
ozens of people
now stood in the clearing inside the circle of Elder Trees. Most were members of the guilds, all with representatives, but others had come with them. Brusus and Haern—now Healed by Della—stood to the side, neither speaking much. Brusus gazed up toward the tops of the trees, as if his eyes were drawn there.

Alyse had come with the others and made her way over to him, gripping her dress tightly in her fists. She occasionally glanced up to the treetops, but she kept her eyes on Rsiran. “What is this place?” she asked in a whisper.

“This is the place mother searched for when we were younger.”

At the mention of her, the image of her falling to the ground with his knives plunged into her filled his mind again. There had been a strange mixture of emotions on her face, like that of both sadness and relief. Rsiran hadn’t noticed it at the time, but now that he thought about it, he could see it clearly. Why should he be able to?

“I have been wrong about so much for so long,” Alyse said.

“You couldn’t help it.”

Alyse touched the necklace that their father had made for her. “But I should have been able to. Especially if he made this to protect me.”

Rsiran sighed. “This place is as old as our people. This is where our people once lived, before they moved to Elaeavn. Mother searched for it because
her
father wanted to find it, and destroy it.”

“Why?”

“Because there is power here.”

Alyse inhaled deeply, and her hands unclutched her dress. “I can feel it,” she said with a sigh.

Rsiran studied her. What did it mean that Alyse could detect the power within the Elder Trees? But then again, why should
he
be able to and she shouldn’t? She shared the same heritage as him, both the Blood of the Elders and the Blood of the Watcher. And hadn’t his grandfather said that he thought Alyse would have been the one he searched for? Maybe there was more to her as well.

“Rsiran,” she said hesitantly. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“And thank you. For everything. You could have abandoned me. You could have left me, but you didn’t. You… you saved me.”

“You’re my sister.”

She sighed deeply. “I haven’t been the best sister to you.”

“No,” Rsiran said, laughing softly, “you haven’t, but that doesn’t mean you can’t change.”

Alyse started to say something, but then clamped her mouth shut and nodded instead. She pulled him into a hasty hug and then made her way back to Brusus. As he watched her, he knew the next thing he had to do would be finding his father. If Danis told the truth, he would
need
to find him. He couldn’t leave him with Venass.

“Well. That was unexpected,” Jessa said.

“I thought she’d be angrier that I killed our mother.”

“Wait… you killed your mother?”

“When we returned to the Barth. The necklace my father made. It protects her from my mother, keeping her from getting Compelled. Either he knew, or he suspected. We went back for it and saw my grandfather, and my mother. In the attack, my knives…”

“Oh, Rsiran,” Jessa said.

“You know what’s funny about all of this?” he asked. “For years, I thought my mother lived in fear of my father and the way that he treated the rest of us. But that wasn’t it at all. She did to him the same thing that had been done to Luca. What if her constant attempts to Compel him changed something in his mind?”

It still seemed strange to think that maybe his father wasn’t the one that he needed to fear. That maybe his father had been trying to protect them in his own twisted way. And it made him realize that he shouldn’t have abandoned his father to Venass.

Jessa squeezed his hand, as if knowing his thoughts. “What now?” she asked.

“Now we’ll have to discover how Venass managed to reach the tree and determine how we can prevent this from happening again. And I have to deal with my grandfather.”

Jessa said nothing, but squeezed his hand reassuringly.

Della stepped out of the crowd of people and made her way toward Rsiran. The stiffness and the limp he’d seen before they Slid into the tree were gone. In many ways, she appeared refreshed, and younger than her true years. “They are here because of you, Rsiran. They do not know it, and might not know how they can work together again. You will have to lead them.”

“Lead? I’m no leader, Della. I’ve only done what I needed in order to keep my friends safe.”

Della smiled. “And you have succeeded. Pray that you continue to succeed.”

Rsiran looked around at the people gathered. The guilds—
all
of the guilds—were here. Ephram stood with a few other men and women, all with serious expressions. The Alchemist Guild. There was Sarah, standing alone, and Rsiran realized that she might be the only one of her guild. Muscular, mostly dark-haired men stood off to another side. Miners, he decided. Then there were the smiths.

Seval stood among a few others that Rsiran recognized. Many he had saved from Asador. Seval looked over and nodded to him.

“He wants you to go over to him,” Jessa said.

“I don’t think so. He’s with the rest of the guild.”

She poked him under the ribs. “And he wants you to go over to him.”

Rsiran started toward Seval and he nodded. When Rsiran reached him, Seval stepped back to let Rsiran join the others.

“Lareth,” Seval said. “We finally have a chance to gather with you.”

The others of the guild glanced at him, but said nothing.

“This is unconventional, but I have asked the others of the guild to recognize you and grant you membership.”

Rsiran looked up. “What?”

“Each new member to the guild requires sponsorship. I will be your sponsor,” Seval said.

“I do not know that I agree with this,” Master Kevan said. Rsiran knew him to be stern with the journeymen, often to the point of being harsh.

Seval met Kevan’s eyes. “Why do you not agree?”

“Several reasons. We do not have our guildlord,” he said, “and he has not trained an apprentice. That is a requirement for joining the guild.”

“Not trained?” Seval asked. “You have met Luca?”

Kevan nodded. “I have met the boy in your smithy. He is… an odd one.”

Seval shrugged. “Odd or not, he is Lareth’s apprentice. You have seen the work he’s produced?”

Rsiran hadn’t seen anything from Luca, at least not since the attack, but prior to that, he’d been working with Luca, helping him find a way to use what he heard from the lorcith with a purpose. Could Seval have continued those lessons during Rsiran’s recovery?

“I have seen the boy’s work,” Kevan said.

“He may have an apprentice,” Master Marten started. He was an older man, with silver streaks along his temples. Even with his age, he still had the look of a man who could swing a hammer and work the forge. “But he doesn’t have a smithy.”

“No? The Lareth family claims no smithy?” Seval asked.

“Lareth lost his smithy,” Kevan said.

“No. Lareth did
not
lose his smithy. The Elvraeth may have made that suggestion, but all claims are approved by the guild. Which did not vote.”

Marten glanced at Rsiran. “I’m sorry, Lareth. I know that you were apprenticed to your father, but you were never raised to journeyman. To go from early apprentice, to full guild… that has never been done.”

Rsiran nodded. It had been too much for him to think that he could gain recognition. And, he realized, it didn’t matter. He had a smithy, and it didn’t change who he was, and what he would do.

Rsiran started to turn, but Seval grabbed his arm. “Would you make a true master serve as an apprentice simply because of tradition?” he asked the others.

“Master?” Kevan asked. “Seval, I know that you think the boy has talent, and you don’t want the guild to lose him, but master?”

Seval reached into the pockets of his robe and pulled out a forging of lorcith. It was one that Rsiran had helped him make,
pushing
and
pulling
on the lorcith as he had crafted it, turning it into the decorative sculpture that he’d help make for the Servants.

Seval held out the lorcith sculpture. The others stared at it.

Rsiran could feel the way the lorcith flowed within the sculpture, and could remember the effort that he’d put into its creation. Much like the sjihn sculpture, this was a work that he was proud of. Not a weapon, and nothing that was otherwise useful, nevertheless, the sculpture was something he felt that only he could have made.

“This was your commission,” Master Kevan said.

“It was mine. Lareth joined me in the creation of it.”

Kevan flicked his gaze to Rsiran. “You helped with this?”

Rsiran nodded.

Master Marten took the sculpture and then passed it around to the three others, all who had remained silent. “This is… impressive,” Marten said.

Seval laughed. “Impressive? Damn, Marten, I would challenge you to manage half the detail on this. If you can do even half of it, then I will withdraw my support.”

Marten frowned, a sour expression. “I still do not think that we should ignore tradition.”

“Tradition has said that we ignore the song of the lorcith. Why, exactly, do you think we do that?” Seval asked. “Is it because it makes us better smiths? From seeing what Lareth has been able to learn—on his own, I might add—I would argue that it makes us lesser.”

“You listen to the lorcith?” Master James asked. He was about the same age as Brusus, and had medium green eyes.

Rsiran nodded.

“And you were able to create
this
?” Master Polan asked.

Rsiran nodded again.

“He has my support.” This came from Master Eldon, who had been silent for much of the time. Rsiran hadn’t seen him much since rescuing him from Asador, but the man looked to him and nodded solemnly.

“James? Polan?”

At first, neither man answered, but then they both nodded. “He has my support,” Polan said.

“And mine.”

“Including mine, he has the majority,” Seval said.

“You neglect one,” Marten said.

“Neran is not with us,” Seval said. “We don’t even know if he still lives.”

Rsiran sighed. “He lives.”

Seval met his eyes. “Are you certain?”

Rsiran nodded. “Danis told me that he lived. I will find him and bring him back to Elaeavn.”

Marten studied him. “Your feelings toward him are no secret. You would find him after everything that he did?”

“I’m no longer certain how much of it was his choice.”

Marten closed his eyes and then nodded. “You have my vote.”

Seval grinned. “Rsiran Lareth, you have been recognized and welcomed to the Smith Guild.”

Rsiran swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. For so long, he had wanted recognition. Mostly from his father, or his mother, but then from his friends. He had not realized how much he wanted the guild’s approval as well. Now that he had it… what did it change?

“I—” he started, uncertain how to finish.

Seval nodded. “You might have much to learn about aspects of running your own smithy, but those can be taught. The guild needs you, Lareth, and your skill with lorcith. But first, we must talk about finding you a smithy of your own.”

Rsiran allowed himself to smile. “That is already taken care of.”

Seval nodded. “Good. Then there is one other thing.” He looked around at the other master smiths, meeting each man’s eyes. “Now that Lareth is of the guild, it is time we choose a guildlord.”

“We have—”

“Had. With the attack and the abductions, we’ve lost our guildlord,” Seval said. “But the mark of the smith has returned to us.”

“How?” Kevan asked.

Seval nodded to Rsiran. “Lareth returned it. With him in the guild, I would propose that we choose the next guildlord.” Seval turned to him. “What do you say, Rsiran? Will you lead the smiths? Will you help us regain the connection to lorcith that we’ve lost? Will you serve as our guildlord?”

The others looked at him expectantly, and none seemed offended by the suggestion. It was as if him joining the guild were a bigger hurdle than having him serve as guildlord. The way Seval watched him, Rsiran wondered if the man hadn’t planned this all along. He had
known
Rsiran had the mark of the guildlord, but had not sought to reclaim it.

The idea was almost enough for him to laugh if not for the earnest expression the other men wore.

Rsiran pulled the medallion from his pocket, and it caught the light filtering through the trees. He could easily detect the serpentine shape buried beneath the visible fox head. The mark of the guildlord.

What could he say? What
should
he say?

Jessa took his hand and squeezed. He looked to her, but she had no answers, only an expression of support.

Rsiran inhaled deeply and nodded. “I will serve as guildlord.”

The massive Elder Tree to his right flashed with light briefly as if supporting him. Rsiran didn’t know if he was the right person, but Della was right. It was time for him to step out of the shadows and lead.

* * *

G
et Book
6 of The Dark Ability:
The Guild Secret