“We needed him.”
Brusus frowned. “Is that the only reason?”
Rsiran grunted. “The only one that matters. I thought I was finding an antidote for you. Had I known what I was getting into…”
“Had you told Della what you planned, it wouldn’t have been necessary.”
“I had to make a decision. If I hadn’t and Della hadn’t Healed you, you would have been lost.”
Brusus smiled at him. “You’d do it again?”
“If it meant saving you.”
“Even knowing what you know now?”
“That’s just it. What do I really know now? That the scholars in Venass are something to be feared, and probably Forgotten. I already feared the exiled Elvraeth, what’s another group chasing me?” he said bitterly.
As he said it, he realized it was true. He’d wanted to do everything he could to keep Jessa and the others safe, but he couldn’t prevent everything from happening to them. Hadn’t what had happened with Lianna taught him that?
“I don’t think I can just sit around and wait for the next time someone comes after me,” he told Brusus.
“I still have some connections in the city,” Brusus said.
“Including the palace?” Rsiran asked.
“Some.”
Hopefully Brusus’s connections in the palace would give him warning if they had recognized Rsiran. “Then there’s the guild…”
“They’ve been silent. No word on a break-in.”
That didn’t mean they didn’t know about Rsiran, though. “We’ll have to cross that bridge eventually,” he said. “But for now, I think keeping aware of them is the most important thing. But the Forgotten… we don’t know anything about their connection to Venass, other than our conjecture that the Forgotten who attacked in the Barth were sent by Venass.”
“You think to find more information, but how will that change anything?” Brusus asked. “Other than you once again heading toward danger?”
“It probably won’t change anything for me. From what I can tell, the Forgotten Josun sought already know about my abilities and want to use me. Whether as a smith or for my ability to Slide.” He still didn’t know if any other than Josun knew of his ability to push on lorcith. Had he been smarter, he might have hid that ability better. “And now Venass wants to study me, probably for the same reasons. They’re connected, Brusus. We have to know how. And I can’t wait for them to find me.”
Learning more might even keep him safe. If he could learn what they wanted, he might be able to use it to keep them from attacking him or his friends.
“I’m not so certain of that, Rsiran. Anything you do only draws more attention to you. There are certainly others—some worse than Josun—who can hurt you.”
“They’ve already come after us once. What happens when they do it again? How many attacks can we survive?” That had been the only thing he’d learned from his conversation with Josun—that they would, indeed, come. Rsiran turned toward the water, steadfast in his resolve. “I think it’s time we know more about them.”
“And then what? You think to request a meeting with the Forgotten and Venass? Tell them both to please leave you alone? Maybe you think you can convince them to stop seeking to regain power, because from I can tell, that’s what they ultimately want. And if they have indeed joined forces, it’s possible we won’t be able to stop them.”
Rsiran started up the street, walking along the shoreline. Not far in the distance, the row of warehouses began. In there was the warehouse where everything really began for him. Where he’d exposed his ability to Slide to Brusus. Where he’d first met Josun. Where he’d seen the excess the Elvraeth possessed and did nothing but collect. Other than what Brusus had taken from there to sell, most of it still sat in the warehouse collecting dust.
Without meaning to, he started toward the warehouse. Brusus followed after him, waiting for Rsiran to respond. “They’ve been after something else,” he said, realizing a connection between the Forgotten and Venass that he hadn’t made before. “And not only lorcith.”
“What?”
The warehouse. Josun had been there the night he and Jessa had gone to look at that crate—a crate with wood much like what he’d seen in Venass. There was something in the warehouse the Forgotten wanted that was tied to Venass, but what?
Rsiran stopped in the middle of the street. A carter walking behind them had to swing wide around them so he didn’t collide with them. What was in the warehouse that they would have wanted? They hadn’t moved anything from the warehouse that was of any real use, nothing… but the strange box full of the cylinders.
“What did you do with the cylinders?” he asked Brusus.
Brusus frowned. “What?” He shook his head, realization dawning on his face as he glanced in the direction of the warehouse. “Why are you asking about them?”
“Do you still have them?”
Brusus shrugged. “Most of them. Some were sold. The metal too valuable to simply leave useless like that.”
Rsiran shook his head, starting toward the warehouse. “What if they’re not useless?”
“We don’t even know what they were for. They were shipped here years ago. Likely some sort of gift for the Elvraeth. Rsiran?”
He paused and looked back. Brusus stood at the edge of an intersection in the street, looking at him with worried eyes. He flicked his gaze past him, looking down the row of warehouses and toward the shadows stretching there. Rsiran turned and followed his gaze. A sellsword slipped into the shadows, disappearing. Brusus knew firsthand what could happen were they to get too close to the sellsword.
Rsiran turned away from the street, but not before seeing the sellsword slipping along the edge of the buildings, slowly oozing toward them. Only when he was back on the Bay Road did the sellsword stop following him. Even then, he stood at the edge of the shadows, staring toward him. Had he recognized them?
Brusus said nothing as they made their way up the street, toward his smithy. Rsiran could have Slid into the warehouse—and likely would when Jessa was with him—but not yet.
“What were you thinking?”
Brusus glanced around and pitched his voice low as they made their way along the street. One of the ships settled against the dock as they walked, and nearly a dozen dock workers scurried into action, catching lines and tying them off or hoisting a plank to unload the day’s catch. Carters lined up along the dock, waiting to purchase fish fresh off the ship.
“If you wanted to go to the warehouse, just Slide there.”
Rsiran glanced over his shoulder. He had the creeping sensation that the sellsword still watched him, though he couldn’t see him anywhere. If he had Sight like Jessa, he might be able to. “Why would the Forgotten suddenly come out of hiding after all these years?”
“You think it’s the warehouse?”
“Not the warehouse. At least, not entirely. We’ve found heartstone there, but we’ve also found those strange cylinders. That’s what helped me make the connection. Venass and the exiled Elvraeth. There’s got to be more to them than we know.”
Brusus flicked his gaze toward the warehouse. “We could gather the cylinders…”
They started up the slope, working their way toward the smithy. Once they reached an alley, Rsiran would Slide them the rest of the way. “That still won’t answer how they’re connected. And Josun doesn’t seem to know where to find the exiled Elvraeth, but there’s one who does. And maybe if I find him, we can get a step ahead. Figure out why Venass would be interested in me.” And find a way to avoid their summons. Maybe even figure out a way to get his father back.
Brusus watched him, understanding settling in his faded green eyes. “It’s a terrible idea.”
“You’re not going to try and talk me out of it?”
“Would it make any difference? You’re still going to try and find him anyway.”
“Who?” When they’d turned off the street and onto the alley leading toward the smithy
, Rsiran felt Jessa approach by the charm she wore. “Who is Rsiran going to try and find?”
“Shael. Damn idiot wants to find Shael.”
Chapter 24
Rsiran hunched over a scrap of oiled wood, staring at the markings etched along the slick surface. He worked a fingernail into the layers of wood, peeling it back. Jessa sat next to him, studying him in the flickering light of the hearth flame. She hadn’t said anything since they returned from the warehouse.
“These are the same markings I saw in Venass,” Rsiran said, breaking the silence. “Same wood too. I’m sure of it.”
Jessa leaned over the scrap and frowned. “Are you certain? I don’t remember seeing anything like them.”
He closed his eyes, visualizing the way the symbols had been etched into the lorcith-infused stone. At the time, he hadn’t known what they meant. Still didn’t, but he began to realize they were the same language.
“They were on the wall in the room I was in. I remember seeing them, but not what they meant.”
“They could mean anything. Or nothing at all.”
The same thoughts had crossed his mind. “What if they’re connected? What if these crates came from Venass?”
“Why would Venass send crates to the Elvraeth?”
Rsiran didn’t know. “And why would the Forgotten be interested in them?”
Her hand slipped onto his leg and she leaned toward him. She smelled of the fading lilac she wore today. “There’s probably nothing to any of it. These crates are hundreds of years old.”
Rsiran nodded. “Probably.”
“But you think the Forgotten and Venass are working together. And if that’s the case, then I don’t think we should be trying to find anything that Venass might want. We’ve already seen that the scholars can do things they shouldn’t be able to do. What if this device lets them do something like that? Why get in their way?”
Rsiran laughed, though an edge of nervousness flowed through him. “What do you think the cylinders will do? Let them Slide to Elaeavn? If they could do that, there’s nothing stopping them anyway.”
Jessa sighed and looked back at the scrap of wood. “I remember how excited I was when we first found those cylinders. The different metals, some gold, some silver, all with the same shape and designed to fit together. Now…”
“I know. Now you wish we never would have found them.”
“At least they’ve been kept from the Elvraeth. At least Brusus didn’t sell them.”
Rsiran still didn’t know why.
The door to the smithy clicked open, and they both turned. Rsiran readied a pair of knives to push if needed, but Brusus came through the door, closing it quickly behind him. A sheen of sweat coated his face, and a smudge of dirt or oil worked along his chin. He carried a couple of small boxes, similar to the one Rsiran had recently helped Jessa steal.
“You could help, you know?” he said. “Maybe could even Slide these here, rather than making me carry them. Some get heavy. Don’t know why. They’re all the same shape.”
Rsiran pushed to his feet and laughed. “I’ve told you how different metals have different weights.” He looked at the boxes. “Which ones did you bring?”
Brusus frowned. “What do you mean by that? I told you I’d bring all of them.”
Rsiran shook his head as he glanced at Jessa. “That’s not all of them. There were dozens of different cylinders in that crate.”
“I already told you. I sold some. I kept some.”
He grabbed the nearest box and carried it toward his table before setting it down. He didn’t feel the pull of lorcith or the alloy from within the box and wondered what metals these would be made from. Rsiran worked one of his knives under the edge of the box, prying it open. A cylinder of dull iron rested inside. He opened the next. This was grindl, a semi-valuable metal. Rsiran looked up at Brusus.
“You sold the gold one?”
He nodded. “I got nearly fifty guildens for it.”
“And the silver?”
Brusus shrugged. “Only ten.”
“Who bought them?”
Brusus turned to look around the smithy. His eyes hesitated when he caught on the bars of the alloy pressing through the floor and stretching toward the patched ceiling overhead. “Shael bought a few of them. I thought your plan was to find him anyway?”
Shael again. How tightly tied to all of this was he? “I think I need to. We need to know what he wanted. What this device can do.”
“Now you think you’re going to recover all the parts too?”
“I don’t know. One thing at a time.”
“Better blame Della for what we don’t have,” Brusus said.
“Della?”
He shrugged. “She wanted me to get rid of the Elvraeth property. Thought it dangerous I had it lying around or something.” He grinned and shook his head. “She knows me better than that. I don’t keep things just lying around.”
Brusus started toward the hearth and stumbled, staggering to one knee. Rsiran Slid to him quickly and put his arm around Brusus’s waist, catching him before he could fall. Another Slide took them to the hearth where he lowered Brusus to the ground.
“Are you…”
Brusus nodded. “I’m fine. Still get weak from time to time. Della helped, but the poison they used…” He shook his head and forced a smile. “Nothing to worry about. I need more rest, is all.”
Rsiran glanced back at Jessa. He read the worry on her face. It matched what he felt. “You won’t be able to come with us for this, Brusus.”
“You’re not keeping me out of this, Rsiran. If you find the Forgotten—”
“Then I come and bring you to them. Until then, you can stay in Elaeavn and rest.”
Brusus looked past him to Jessa. “Tell him I’m fine.”
Jessa knelt alongside Brusus and looked from Rsiran to Brusus. “I’m with Rsiran on this, Brusus.”
“Figures.”
She went on as if he said nothing. “It’s safer if you stay here.”
Brusus sighed. “At least take Haern. With what he knows, you might need him.”
Rsiran had considered Haern but shook his head. “It’s easiest with two,” he started. It was easiest with him going by himself, but he didn’t tell Jessa that. She wouldn’t let him go without her anyway. And he might need her Sight. “And when I find Shael, I’ll need to be able to bring him with me. Can’t do that when I’m Sliding more than Jessa. Just be ready for us to return. We’ll need your particular gifts to know what he might be hiding.” Even three stretched his abilities farther than he felt comfortable. When they’d gone to Venass, it had taken nearly all of his strength to reach it. Returning would have been difficult if they’d still had his father with them. He wouldn’t risk that again, not with someone he cared about.
“You know I could help.” Brusus didn’t speak with the same force as he usually did.
“You know you can’t,” Rsiran countered. “I will find Shael. Then we’ll find the Forgotten.”
Brusus nodded toward the collection of cylinders on the table. “And that? What do you plan to do with that?”
“One thing at a time. First we’ll find out what Shael knows.” And then the Forgotten. Along the way, somehow, he’d have to find a way to avoid returning to Venass. Rsiran doubted that he would find it as easy to escape the next time.
* * *
Rsiran held Jessa’s hand as they emerged from the Slide atop Krali Rock. She looked at him, a question in her eyes. Wind whipped around them, carrying the expected scents of the docks and the sea, but other scents as well, that of smoke and wood and the distant fragrance of the Aisl. The moon stood out full and fat as it hung over the bay, silver light streaming toward the shore. Dark shadows swooped overhead, gulls circling and landing. Occasionally, one cawed, splitting the silence of the night. Other sounds, most coming from the Aisl, were too low to hear well. Rsiran wasn’t certain he wanted to know what made those sounds anyway.
He alwa
ys liked using Krali Rock as a starting point for his Slides, especially when he didn’t really know where he was going. There was something about the height, the way he could see and feel everything around him as if he sat with the Great Watcher, that he found connected him to the world. Closer to the ground, he had no sense of the same. There, he felt confined by the city, trapped in his own smithy, though by his choice. Anywhere else didn’t offer the same promise of safety.
“How do you think you’ll find him?” Della held tightly to his hand. She wore a long jacket, woven of thick wool Brusus had procured for them, dyed a deep brown meant to blend in anywhere they might go. Rsiran wore a similar jacket.
“He was with Firell the last time I saw him.”
“That was weeks ago.”
Rsiran couldn’t believe it had been that long. Weeks since Jessa had been taken from him. Weeks since he determined to do what was needed to rescue her. And weeks since Josun had been captured, left in chains in the hidden mines of Ilphaesn.
“Firell will know where he went. Probably took him there by ship.”
“And if he doesn’t? Or if we find the Forgotten? Are you ready for that?”
They would have to find the Forgotten eventually, but he wasn’t sure what would happen if they found the Forgotten but not Shael. What he wanted was answers, not another attack.
Standing here, looking out over Aylianne Bay, he wondered if he could find Firell’s ship and then Slide to it. When he’d been able to see the ship, it had been a risky Slide. The last time he’d Slid there, he’d known Firell carried some of his forgings and used those to anchor him. What if those forgings weren’t there? What if Firell had moved them off his ship?
Rsiran didn’t think he had.
It was a risk, but one he needed to take. If he was wrong, he had faith in his ability to get them to safety again. They wouldn’t get trapped like they had with the scholars again.
Rsiran cleared his head, pushing away the sense of lorcith pressing on him from the city all around him. This was more difficult than usual. The swords in his smithy sounded most loudly against his sensing, one asking him to take it with him while the other—the one he’d made of the heartstone alloy—practically demanded Rsiran return and take the sword with him. He would worry later why it felt so insistent.
The Tower of Venass (The Dark Ability Book 3) Page 16