The Heartstone Blade (The Dark Ability Book 2)

by Holmberg, D. K.

  How had he missed it before now?

  Without waiting for another attack, Rsiran Slid away from the warehouse, pulling Jessa with him and back to the smithy.

  Chapter 7

  Rsiran lingered in the smithy long enough to collect more of his lorcith-forged knives. Had he a way to conceal it, he would have taken the sword with him too. Suddenly, he didn’t feel entirely comfortable leaving it in the smithy.

  “What was that, Rsiran?” Jessa watched him for a moment, and then hurried to the table to help. The few knives that he couldn’t grab, she stuffed into pockets in her pants. She started reaching for the other items made of lorcith, a bowl and the hook, but he shook his head. “Not those. Just the knives for now.”

  “Why?”

  How to tell her what he feared? That there was someone else in the warehouse who could Slide. And had his knives.

  “My knives are returning to the city,” he told her.

  “You felt another one, didn’t you?”

  He nodded. “Just before I Slid us out of there.”

  “Where was it?”

  “Close.”

  “Close? Like someone snuck up on us?”

  Someone sneaking up on them would make him feel better, but he didn’t think so. Even distracted, the sudden sense of lorcith had been hard for him to miss. One moment it hadn’t been there and the next…

  “Josun isn’t the only one who can Slide,” Rsiran said. “I mean, he even said that the Elvraeth tried to push down the ability, make it so that others wouldn’t have it. But that means that others do have it.” He looked over at her, meeting eyes that flared bright green. “I can’t be the only one, Jessa. And with what he was after… whatever his rebellion aimed to accomplish…”

  “It doesn’t make sense! How would anyone else even learn about the warehouse?”

  “Unless they’re Elvraeth.” Which made their presence in the warehouse—and with his knives—even worse.

  “We need to talk to Haern. Maybe he has Seen something.”

  “Haern won’t have Seen anything,” Rsiran said. “For the same reason he can’t see around me, at least not clearly. Something about the ability to Slide masks me from him.”

  Jessa frowned. “Brusus might know something. As connected as he is, he’s bound to know if there’s another Elvraeth who can Slide. And he can listen for word on what Josun might have been up to. He’s connected, Rsiran.”

  “But if he doesn’t know? Or can’t learn? Then what?”

  It was times like these that Rsiran simply wanted to turn to the forge, work over a piece of metal, just listen to the lorcith calling to him as he hammered away, turning a plain lump of lorcith into something else. But with this, he couldn’t. He didn’t dare let himself relax. If there was someone else in the city who could Slide…

  “You couldn’t find Brusus earlier?” he asked.

  “I told you that. Not sure what he’s up to, but I’m guessing it has to do with that crate that Firell saw on the docks last night. Nothing gets Brusus fired up more than thinking someone is interrupting his plans. You know how upset he was when he got hurt and couldn’t do what Josun wanted.”

  “I think Brusus did exactly what Josun wanted of him.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Josun had used Brusus to get to Rsiran. Unlike others living in Elaeavn, as one of the Elvraeth, Josun had pieces of all abilities. Rsiran remembered feeling Josun rifling through his thoughts, Reading him in a way that few others had ever managed. But it was the Sliding that Rsiran remembered the most. The easy way he moved, practically skipping with each step. Rsiran had never seen someone Slide so openly, though the way Josun used it, few would even recognize what he did.

  But Brusus hated the fact that Josun had used him, and that the others were pulled into his plan because of Brusus. Rsiran suspected Brusus would do anything to keep that from happening again, even if it meant hiding something from them.

  And then there was the matter of what Shael wanted him to make. What would the smuggler do if Rsiran simply couldn’t make it?

  First, they had to find Brusus. “I don’t think we can wait until tonight to find him,” he said. Most nights, he expected Brusus to show up at the Barth for dicing and eating.

  “There are a few places I haven’t checked. Maybe I do that—”

  “Not alone. I’m going to come with you.”

  The knives tucked into his pocket pulled on his senses. He was aware of the others that Jessa had and felt reassured by them, knowing that as long as she carried them, he could find her.

  The thought reminded him of something that he had been meaning to do but never got around to. Jessa had started toward the door. “There’s something else,” Rsiran said.

  He rummaged around on the long table until he found what he wanted. Buried under a few bits of iron—a run of chain, a misshapen candleholder from one of his early attempts, a few heavy pots that he thought he might use for cooking but never had—was the small decorative piece of lorcith. The lump of metal from which he had forged it had been small, but he remembered how it had pulled on him with a seductive song until he shaped it into this spiraling pattern that reminded him of so many of the flowers that Jessa wore.

  Grabbing a length of twine, he slipped the shaped lorcith onto it and reached around Jessa to place it around her neck. She watched him with a bemused expression at first. After he had tied it, she cupped her hand around the lorcith and pulled it out so that she could look at it.

  For a moment, her eyes flared a bright green. “You made this?” she asked in a whisper.

  He nodded. After he had made it, he had worried whether she would like it. Lorcith, even folded as this was so that the metal seemed to flow, was a dull black or grey. Nothing like the vibrant colors Jessa preferred to wear. “After I made it, I thought of you. I’ll make a better necklace for it when I can…” Already he started thinking of what he would need to make the chain. A smaller hammer for delicate work, a smaller tong to hold the metal, and ideally, silver or gold, though for some reason, he could already envision how he could turn a certain nugget of lorcith into what he wanted.

  She smiled. “It’s perfect as it is.” Jessa didn’t look away from it, her bright green eyes telling Rsiran that she used her Sight as she studied it. “It almost looks like several colors come together. The detail is amazing.” She looked over at him and frowned. “Can you even see the detail that you put into it?”

  “Not like you, but I can feel it. I don’t think I could have made that out of anything other than lorcith.” He hesitated, fearing to ask the next question. “Do you like it?”

  In answer, she leaned toward him and kissed him.

  She took his hand and led him to the door. “We should walk. Might need you to Slide us later, and you’ll want to save your strength.”

  In the alley outside the smithy, Jessa made certain to lock the door carefully. “Maybe I should just take back my key,” he said.

  She grinned. “I don’t really need it.

  “Me, neither.”

  “Still can’t see in the dark.”

  “You still have to walk,” he said as he took her hand.

  “Not all the time,” she said, pulling him down the alley.

  They passed a few puddles of stagnant water. The air in the alley felt still and dank, stinking of rot in a way the rest of the city never managed. Buildings pressed closely together, most with crumbling stone faces and doors boarded over. Having the forge in such a location provided the benefit that he would be less likely to be discovered. Part of him worried about what would happen were someone from this alley to learn of the smithy and decide to see what sort of reward the constables would offer.

  Near the end of the street, there came the whine of a distant cat. Rsiran hesitated, knowing that he was being superstitious, until he heard another. Only then did he relax.

  Jessa glanced over at him. “You worry too much.”

  She pulled him onto a wider st
reet. A few carters made their way along here, some coming down from Upper Town by their dress, but not as many people filled the street as they would find earlier in the day, after ships returned with the day’s catch.

  “You don’t worry?” he asked.

  Rsiran looked over and saw her holding one hand over the lorcith charm. Somewhere along the line, she had grabbed a flower and tucked it inside the twisting shape. She sniffed at it softly, a distant look to her eyes.

  “Worrying hasn’t ever changed anything for me.”

  They made their way toward the docks. Rsiran let Jessa lead him, mindful of the twists she took as they went. He still didn’t know the city—especially this part of Lower Town—as well as she did. And since he Slid most places, he hadn’t really needed to know the streets that well.

  As the road sloped downward, he caught sight of someone and paused almost imperceptibly. The face looked familiar, the set of the jaw so much like his sister Alyse, but she would not be down in Lower Town, and certainly not carrying a loaded basket of fish.

  The woman disappeared as they turned a corner. Jessa caught him looking backward and punched him on the shoulder. “Don’t think I didn’t see that,” she said, swatting at his arm.

  When they nearly reached the shore road that ran along the bay, Rsiran saw Shael ambling toward the docks. His wide back was hard to miss, but his brightly colored shirt and pants would have stood out, regardless.

  Rsiran pulled Jessa toward the line of buildings along the street. “Just saw Shael.”

  “You sure?”

  “Who else wears such bright clothing?” It was the deep red shirt that drew Rsiran’s attention. “Where do you think he’s going?”

  “Probably same as us.”

  “And where are we going?”

  She tilted her head toward the water. “I wanted to check with Firell. Something about that crate last night still bothers me.”

  “He’ll be on his ship. You won’t be able to get there.”

  A smile played across her lips. “You sure about that?”

  “You want me to Slide us onto the ship?”

  He wasn’t certain whether he could even do it. Usually Sliding required him to know where he was going, either by seeing it or having been there before. Trying to do it another way risked him missing his target. And if he missed the ship… they would end up in the water. Rsiran didn’t know whether he could Slide them back.

  “You don’t think you can?” Jessa seemed surprised.

  “I’ve never tried it,” he admitted. “If I had better Sight, I might feel more comfortable trying it. At least then I could see my target. But what if I miss or overshoot?” At least there wasn’t the same risk of ending up stuck in walls of rock like he’d had when Sliding in Ilphaesn or of ending up stuck in a crate as he would have had attempting to Slide in the warehouse.

  As they neared the docks, Jessa pulled something out of her pocket and handed it to him. An amused smile crossed her face, pulling at the corners of her mouth.

  “What is this?” What she handed him was made of a silvery metal, but not steel. Long and cylindrical, it felt cool and lighter than he would have expected. It reminded him of the cylinders he had seen when Brusus first took him to the warehouse, but didn’t seem as long as those. One end tapered more than the other. “Is this…”

  She shrugged. “Just a part. Look through it.”

  “Does Brusus know?”

  They stood on the rocky shoreline, away from the docks but near enough that they could see them. Water splashed up around them, sending soft splatters of cool water onto their arms. Rsiran remembered the first time he’d come to the shore with Jessa, thinking how different things were now.

  A half dozen ships were moored out on the water. A few smaller boats ferried people to and from the larger ships. At the dock, a single-masted ship slowly made its way toward the shore. Flat bottomed, from what Firell had said, and clearly from Elaeavn.

  “Does he have to know everything?” Jessa said.

  Rsiran laughed. “I know how he’d answer that.”

  “Just look,” Jessa urged.

  He held the cylinder up and turned it, realizing that a piece of glass capped each end. A spyglass, though he’d never seen one like this before. Rsiran smiled and place the narrow end up to his face and looked through.

  Waves cresting on the bay suddenly jumped into view. Rsiran’s smile deepened. The clarity surprised him. The only other spyglasses he’d used were blurry, with impurities tainting the glass. This was as if everything were simply magnified. He turned so that he could look through the spyglass at the other ships. Most of the ships in the bay sailed from Elaeavn, though a few came from other port cities like Asador and Thyr.

  Without the advantage of Sight, he had never been able to really see the exotic ships up close. Elaeavn sailors stayed mostly in the bay where fish were plentiful, but the interesting ships were the ones that couldn’t reach the docks. On one, a triple-masted boat with a sharp prow shaped like a massive bird, several men walked on the deck. Most had thick beards, and they worked the lines with experienced hands. Another ship had wide square sails, but Rsiran didn’t see anyone on the deck. He turned with the spyglass and finally found Firell’s ship.

  Rsiran had never really seen it. The wood of the ship was painted a dark green. The prow had been carved into the shape of a woman, long hair flowing down her shoulders, before her waist melded into the rest of the ship. Thick lines ran from the two massive masts. White sails were rolled and stored. A long anchor chain hung off the side, disappearing into the water.

  “I don’t see him on the ship.”

  Rsiran lowered the spyglass and looked at Jessa. She stared out over the water, eyes flaring a deeper green. “Agreed. I don’t see him, either.”

  “Is that what it’s like for you all the time?”

  She smiled. “Like I said… you’re just a babe.”

  He laughed and searched the road for Shael, but the wide man had disappeared. There were dozens of shops along the shore he could have slipped into. Part of Rsiran wished he would have followed him just to see what Shael was up to, but there was no reason to worry about who Shael was talking to.

  “Can you get us to the ship?”

  “But Firell isn’t there.”

  She shrugged.

  “What is it you’re not telling me?”

  “Can you get us there or not?” Jessa asked.

  Rsiran raised the spyglass and looked out to the ship and picked an open section on the deck. Fixing it in his mind, he grabbed her, and before he thought about it too much, Slid across the open water and onto the ship.

  Chapter 8

  They emerged standing on the deck of the ship. Rsiran staggered, but didn’t know if it was the effort of the Slide or the slowly rolling ship that sent him stumbling. Jessa clung to his hand. Her other hand gripped the lorcith charm he’d given her.

  Jessa’s face had turned pale white. “Okay. So maybe this wasn’t the best idea I’ve had.”

  “You’ve never been on a ship?”

  “And you have?”

  Rsiran shook his head. “My first time.”

  Jessa swallowed again. She looked out over the water and started frowning. “Come on. Let’s make sure Firell isn’t here before we go snooping around too much.”

  The ship rocked slowly underfoot, rolling in a way that made Rsiran uncomfortable. With the deck empty, it felt like they were the only ones aboard. He had met others who sailed with Firell, but he hadn’t seen Tagus or Jesin in over a month.

  Lines were coiled neatly along the deck rails. Hooks and oars stored in open lockers, as well as other tools that he had no name for. Near the far end of the deck, stairs led below deck. Jessa started toward them.

  “Will he be upset if he learns we’re here?” Rsiran asked as they neared the stairs. He didn’t know Firell nearly as well as Brusus did, though Rsiran had the sense that they had known each other a long time. But he knew how he wou
ld feel if someone suddenly appeared in his smithy without asking for permission first. It felt like a violation of privacy, of trust.

  “Don’t know.”

  She didn’t give more of an answer as she started into the dark stairwell. The wide stairs creaked as they stepped down them. The air smelled different here than it did along the shore, cleaner, less of the stink of fish. Of course, he wouldn’t smell fish on Firell’s ship; he claimed to be a trader but specialized in contraband, forbidden items that he had to sneak past the Elvraeth inspectors.

  At the bottom of the stairs, a narrow hall opened before them. Two doors were closed on one side of the hall. Midway down on the other side was a single door. Also closed. Jessa studied all three doors for a moment before trying the single door. When she found it locked, she unrolled her pick set and quickly opened it.

  “And this is where Firell gets mad if he learns what we’ve done,” Rsiran said.

  Jessa smiled and pushed the door open. “Good thing he doesn’t know that you can Slide.”

  The door opened into the hold. It was mostly dark, but the light from the hall streamed in letting Rsiran see rows of boxes, similar enough to the crates from the warehouse. Unlike those in the warehouse, these were small enough that they could be easily loaded onto the ship. Rsiran wished for the lantern so he could see.

  “Close it,” Jessa whispered.

  Rsiran closed the door and was plunged into darkness.

  For once, he’d like to sneak someplace with Jessa where he had the advantage, but here in the dark, unable to see anything, he felt as helpless as the babe she always teased him of being. He heard her moving in the darkness, heard a soft rustling and the quiet squeal of nails pried free from a box, and then nothing.

  Just like the night before when they had been in the warehouse, the darkness raised his awareness of the lorcith. He sensed the knives in his pockets and those that Jessa carried. He felt the soft sense of the charm he’d given her. And something else.

  “Jessa,” he whispered.

  He felt her coming toward him as an awareness of the lorcith.