The Heartstone Blade (The Dark Ability Book 2)

by Holmberg, D. K.

  Jessa so rarely spoke of her past. He knew it haunted her, but more than that was a mystery to him. He never pushed her to share, suspecting that she would open up in time. Now that she feared losing him, he wanted her to know he felt much the same. He had lost his entire family only to gain a new one. And he would do anything to keep it together.

  Strange as it seemed, he owed his father for the fact that he had met Jessa in the first place. Had he not been sent away by his father, sent to the mines in Ilphaesn where he had to run away or die, he would never have grown as close to Jessa. Really, Rsiran would never have met any of them.

  “We shouldn’t keep them waiting. They already tell stories.”

  “What kind of stories?” he asked.

  Some of the anxiety left her face, and she offered him a playful smile. “The best kind.”

  Holding tightly to her hand, Rsiran Slid, emerging in the darkness near the docks. It seemed harder than when they had Slid from the smithy to the tavern, as if he pushed against something, but he’d had little rest over the last few days.

  He stuttered forward before catching himself. Jessa gripped his hand tightly and looked at him with a worried expression. Rsiran patted her hand, hoping to make it seem reassuring, and looked around.

  At this time of night, the docks looked like long shadows of darkness, little more than a series of wooden fingers sticking out and away from the rocky shore, jutting into Aylianne Bay. Rough wooden boxes lined most of the docks, meant to collect the day’s catch before moving to the market. Waves crashed along the rocks, sending spray and the scent of salt into the air. Even now, gulls circled overhead, cawing occasionally. The bustle that normally filled the docks had died to nothing.

  A single lantern lit the entirety of the docks. On the nearest, a small portage boat was pulled up to the dock, and Firell stood alongside, motioning toward it. Brusus stood staring where Firell motioned, but Haern looked past them both and out over the water.

  Rsiran followed his gaze and saw the outline of a large twin-masted ship moored out in the harbor. Firell’s ship, he suspected, though he would need to wait until it was lighter to know for certain. But why would Haern look at it with a troubled expression?

  “What is it?” Jessa asked as they approached.

  Brusus looked up and frowned at them. A wide grin spread across Firell’s face.

  “I thought Lianna said she saw one of the crates down here. Where is it?” Rsiran asked. From what he remembered, the crates were massive, too large to easily move without the help of several people. If Lianna had just come from the dock, the crate should still be here. He glanced at the other docks but saw no sign of the crate there, either.

  Brusus motioned to the dinghy. Rsiran looked into the boat as he neared but didn’t see anything. “This your transport?” he asked Firell.

  “Nothing there, Brusus. You know I wouldn’t keep anything out like that.”

  “Then where is the crate?” Jessa scanned the dock, using her Sight to see where the crate might have gone.

  “How would it have even gotten down here? Those were—”

  “Just a shipping crate,” Firell finished. “We get them all the time in places like Cort and Asador. Not so much here. The docks aren’t set up for that type of crate to come off easily. These are fishing docks, not shipping docks. Have to load them into transport boats to reach the shore.”

  Rsiran hadn’t known that before. But those shipping crates filled the warehouse, stacked from floor to the ceiling, massive rows of them. Somehow, they had been brought off the ships. It seemed strange that they would have to load and unload in such an inefficient manner.

  “You can’t just sail all the way into the docks?” he asked.

  “Not my ship. Water is too shallow.”

  “But the other ships dock here.” Farther down, two medium-sized ships were tied to the docks. Both had faded paint and rolled sails. They didn’t look the same as Firell’s ship—his seemed quite a bit larger—but bigger than any ship he’d been on in his life.

  “Flat bottomed, all of them. Have to travel close to the shoreline. Deeper keeled boats like mine can handle rougher water.” Firell smiled. “Better for my line of work.”

  “Are you finished giving sailing lessons?” Brusus asked.

  Firell shrugged. “Not sailing lessons, but you wouldn’t know anything about that.”

  Brusus’s frown deepened. “Just because I’ve never sailed with you doesn’t mean I don’t know how.”

  Firell arched an eyebrow and then laughed. “But never willing to come with me? As many times as I’ve tried getting you out on the water, now I hear it’s just my ship you don’t like.”

  Brusus’s face clouded. “Damn, Firell! There’s not time for this. Lianna said she saw one of the crates. Then what happened to it?”

  Rsiran hadn’t seen Brusus this agitated before. Maybe Jessa was right. Something was clearly bothering him, but Rsiran didn’t know what. That he would get so upset over one of the crates surprised him.

  Firell raised his hands and backed away from him a step. “Easy, Brusus. Just having a little fun. Nothing to worry about if it wasn’t your crate, anyway, is there?”

  “That’s my concern,” Brusus said. “You know how we’ve been moving those crates, so you should know that I would not have brought it to the docks that way. What I need to know is what happened? Why would it have been here?”

  “Could someone else have brought it in?” Rsiran offered.

  Brusus waved toward the water. “No other ships use shipping crates like that around here.”

  Haern finally turned away from looking out over the water and met Brusus’s eyes. “Lianna spoke truly, Brusus. That was one of the Elvraeth crates. I can See that much.” He shook his head. “But nothing more than that.”

  “I still don’t understand what the problem is, Brusus.” Jessa had one hand planted on her hip as she glared at him.

  “The problem is that the Elvraeth have left those crates alone for years. Some for hundreds of years. And, as far as I know, there haven’t been new crates added to the warehouse in at least a hundred years. So everything has been sitting untouched.” He looked out over the water, shaking his head. “And now, in just the last few months, we see activity? First with Josun. The Great Watcher alone knows what he intended. And now this.” He swept his arm around the dock.

  Jessa glanced over to Rsiran. “Who then?”

  Brusus shook his head. “I haven’t seen any other Elvraeth in the warehouse other than him. Haven’t seen anyone, really. Patrols around the warehouse haven’t changed. Nothing has changed that would make me think we needed to be more careful. And nothing from the palace, either.”

  Rsiran didn’t say anything. Since they had infiltrated the palace, he’d feared some repercussions. Since none had come, he’d allowed himself to slowly relax. Now, learning this—that one of the crates had been moved to and then quickly off the dock—that tension suddenly returned. He was the one who had Slid them into the palace. He was the one who’d stolen lorcith from the mines, using it to forge weapons. He was the one who’d killed one of the Elvraeth. He was the one who had been seen.

  And if they had been wrong, if the Elvraeth learned that he was the one who had been there, the others were in danger.

  Worse, it was clear Jessa was right. Something other than the crates was bothering Brusus. He was hiding something from them. After what they’d all been through, Brusus owed it to him to share, but if he didn’t want to say anything here, Rsiran wouldn’t push—not yet—but he needed to know.

  “What can we do?” Rsiran asked.

  Jessa looked over at him, but he ignored her. Thankfully, she didn’t let go of his hand.

  Brusus sighed, blinking slowly. He ran a hand through his hair and scratched at the back of his head. “Would you take Jessa and go look in the warehouse? Let me know if you see anything?”

  Firell looked at Brusus and laughed. “You sure it’s smart to send thos
e two? I mean, they had to take a stop off on the way down here! Great Watcher knows I remember what it was like to be that age, first in love…”

  Jessa stiffened. “How many flippers did she have?”

  Firell frowned and pinched his chin. “I can’t remember, but I’m certain that it was no more than two.”

  Haern laughed softly before turning to Brusus. “You don’t think you should go yourself?”

  Brusus shook his head. “Jessa can see better than I can,” he started. “And there is something else I need to do.”

  Not for the first time, Rsiran wondered how much any of the others knew of Brusus’s secret heritage. Jessa knew. Della too. But did Haern? Did Firell? The secret was not his to share, any more than his own secret should be shared by them, but Rsiran was learning to trust the others, learning to accept that they would keep him safe. If he still kept secrets from them, dangers that Haern had Seen, he wondered when Brusus would feel the same?

  “What are you going to do?” Jessa asked Brusus.

  “There is something else that I need to check on. Haern will come with me.”

  Haern hesitated a moment and then nodded. The long scar on his cheek twitched.

  “And me?” Firell asked.

  “Find Shael. That damn man knows practically everyone along the docks. If anyone knows what might be going on, it would be him.”

  “Shael’s not in Elaeavn,” Haern said. His eyes took on that faraway expression again.

  Brusus frowned. “I saw him two days ago. No transports since then. He’s here.”

  Haern’s frown deepened.

  “I’ll see if I can find him. He owes me, anyway.” Firell said. He looked at Jessa for a moment, a wide smile crossing his face, and then started away from the dock at a quick pace.

  Brusus looked after him for a moment and then pulled Rsiran aside. “Need you to Slide to the warehouse. Look for anything that might be missing or out of place. See which crate might be gone. I’ve been through quite a few, but there are too many there to sort through all of them. But if one of those crates was here,” he started, flicking his eyes to Haern, “then we need to know which one. And why. Jessa will help.”

  “I don’t know that I will even recognize if anything is missing, Brusus. You’ve been handling the transactions there. I’ve been focusing my energy on the forgings, trying to get enough for you.”

  Brusus rested his hand on Rsiran’s shoulder and squeezed. “And know that I appreciate what you’ve been doing. You’ll get your cut soon. Jessa has been there enough that she should be able to tell if something is out of place.”

  “That’s not what I’m getting at.” Rsiran didn’t want Brusus to think that he wanted only the money.

  “I know, but I don’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage of you.”

  Jessa stepped up next to him and grabbed is hand. A playful smile split her lips. “No. That’s my job.”

  Brusus just shook his head. The urgency never left his eyes, not like it once had. Rsiran didn’t know what it meant, but it was significant somehow.

  “Don’t worry, Brusus. We’ll help you figure out what’s going on.”

  Brusus’s eyes flashed deep green for a brief moment. “Probably nothing,” he said, “but with what we’ve been doing, can’t be too careful.”

  He turned away from them and made his way toward the shore. Haern followed after, watching Brusus’s back rather than walking alongside him.

  Rsiran waited, worried about when the Elvraeth would learn of him, learn how he Slid into the palace, killed one of their own, and now used lorcith in ways they had forbidden. Or whoever remained of Josun’s rebellion discovered he had killed their leader. Unless they already knew. And then it was too late to do anything but run.

  Jessa studied his face, almost as if Reading him. He forced a smile as he squeezed her hand, but didn’t say any of that to her.

  Chapter 4

  The Slide took them to the outside of the warehouse. Rsiran had been here only a few times before and never alone. The first time he had come, Brusus had nearly died. It had taken Rsiran exposing his abilities to save them. And, because of that, he had learned Brusus’s secret, one that was more shocking than what Rsiran hid. The second time he’d come, he had met the Elvraeth Josun. He had not known it at the time, but he had just met the only other person he knew about who shared the ability to Slide.

  Since then, he had come here only a handful of other times. Each time, he’d come with either Brusus or Jessa, and often both. Because of his earliest experience, a gnawing unease chewed at his stomach as he emerged from the Slide, a sense of immediate fear that something would go wrong, or worse—that one of the Elvraeth would find him. The last few times had been uneventful, but that didn’t mean his luck would hold.

  The energy required for the Slide taxed him enough that he wavered for a moment. From his experience, he would regain the necessary strength to Slide with a little more rest, but he wouldn’t be fully restored without a good night’s sleep. Nothing like the nuanced ease he’d seen Josun manage.

  They stood just on the other side of the door to the warehouse. His Slide could have taken them anywhere inside the building, but he didn’t dare push his luck too far in case there was someone else inside the warehouse. Besides, he didn’t know what would happen if he went too far and plunged into one of the crates.

  Jessa started forward. From here, she would lead.

  “Let me know if you see anything,” he whispered.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not letting go of you.”

  Only a little light streamed into the warehouse from windows cut into the massive roof overhead, but nothing more than the light from the crescent moon filtered through. Rsiran would have an easier time searching the warehouse when it was lighter, but he had not argued when Brusus asked him to come, willing to do whatever was necessary to help his friend.

  Shadowed walls rose up around them. Dozens of crates stacked atop each other, some reaching as high as the ceiling. A narrow walkway separated the stacks of crates. The farther they went, the older the crates became, until some were at least as old as the city of Elaeavn itself. Near the center was where Brusus had first shown Rsiran the warehouse, had demonstrated the oddities and fantastic items that could be found hidden within some of the crates.

  “What do you see?” he asked.

  “Nothing here. Just footprints in the dirt. Most are old. The newest look like ours. Crates look undisturbed.”

  Rsiran felt himself relax. Without Jessa, he would not have risked coming at night. Too many with Sight could surprise him. Though he could Slide to safety, a single blade or arrow could injure him enough to prevent him from moving anywhere. But with Jessa guiding him, he felt a sense of ease, knowing that she would keep him safe, just as he would do anything to keep her safe.

  They went on. Fumbling through the dark with Jessa leading him by his hand, he felt every bit the babe she often teased him of being. Worse, he could not help but remember the other time he knew such darkness, when he wandered the mines of Ilphaesn. At least there, he had the sense of the lorcith in the walls to guide him, almost drawing him forward. Here, he felt only distant sensations of the ore.

  Rsiran paused. Had he always felt lorcith here? He couldn’t remember. The first time he had come to the warehouse, he had not been as acutely aware of lorcith. The second time, he had been more focused on Josun Elvraeth and the fact that he had stolen the sword Rsiran had forged. Any other times he had come had been light, so he’d not had the same sense of the darkness as he did now. Maybe that mattered.

  “What is it?” Jessa whispered.

  He shook his head. “Probably nothing.”

  “But it might be something?”

  “It’s just… I sense lorcith. I don’t know if I’ve always sensed it when we’ve come. I never really paid much attention to it before.”

  She squeezed his hand and continued forward more slowly. “Let me know if it changes.”


  “Changes?”

  “Moves.”

  Rsiran tried to focus on the sense of the lorcith, but it felt muted. As if distant. Usually, he had a more distinct awareness of it, even from distances. Were he to focus, he could feel the sword hidden in his smithy or the knives he had recently forged. He had the constant awareness of other lorcith, like that found in the Floating Palace, but this felt different.

  His awareness of lorcith gave him another ability, but one that only seemed to work on items he had forged, granting him the power to push or pull the lorcith. The pair of knives hidden in his pockets felt like a gentle presence in his mind. Were he to have the need, he could send the knives spinning away from him. This ability had saved his life once already.

  “Up ahead,” Jessa whispered.

  “What?”

  “Clearing. Crates look like the last time Brusus was here a few days ago. Side split open. Most of the contents gone.”

  He hadn’t known that Jessa had been to the warehouse a few days ago with Brusus. Not that he knew where she went all the time, but it seemed strange to him that she hadn’t mentioned it. More reason to question Brusus about what he planned.

  “Can you tell if anything is missing?” Trying to determine if one crate was missing out of the hundreds stored here would be nearly impossible. How would they know if just one had moved? And, without carting a wagon down to the warehouse, how would someone take one of the crates out of here in the first place?

  “Not yet. Come on,” she urged, moving forward.

  When she let go of his hand, he felt a moment of panic. The lost connection meant he couldn’t Slide her away from the warehouse, not without knowing where she was. He heard a rustling of cloth and tensed. A soft blue light suddenly filled the warehouse around them.

  “Where did you find that?” He recognized the lantern as one of the Elvraeth lanterns. He had seen one when Josun had been here and again when they had Slid to the Floating Palace. The steady blue light was like nothing found anywhere else. The only thing he could compare it to was the orange lantern from the Ilphaesn mines.