Rsiran hesitated before Sliding. Was he prepared to confront Firell about the lorcith on board his ship? Was he prepared to answer the questions he would get in return? Would he admit that he sensed lorcith? That secret, almost more than Sliding, seemed one worth keeping to himself. But how else would he explain his appearance on the ship? He could lie, say that he watched as Firell loaded the crates, and followed him onto the ship to confront him, but what would happen were Firell to catch him lying?
He didn’t know. Had Jessa been with him, she might have an answer. But if Jessa had been with him, he doubted she would let him even attempt this. Not after what they had been through today.
There were answers they needed. Waiting did nothing other than put everyone at more risk. How long before one of the Elvraeth came after them—if they weren’t after them already? Rsiran needed to find out what Firell intended to do with the ore.
Grabbing hold of the sense of lorcith on the ship, he Slid.
He emerged in the cargo hold. No light made it into the hold, leaving him standing in near darkness. All around came the sense of lorcith, both from forgings he had made and from the crates lining the walls. The ship rocked under his feet, and he struggled to stay with it. A wave slapped against the ship and sent him flying.
Rsiran had the sense of being back in the mines. Standing in the dark like this made him feel that way. These were times when he wished for Jessa’s gift. Sight had so many uses.
Sliding was useful, too, but in a different way. And he could not deny the fact that he used the attachment to the lorcith, but that seemed different to him somehow, not the same as his ability to Slide. Using that gift did not require the same amount of energy. Sensing lorcith never fatigued him like Sliding did.
Or used to. How many times had he Slid today? Multiple times while making his way around Ilphaesn, and each of those with Jessa in tow. And then to the warehouse and back. Now to the ship. The only time he’d really felt exhausted had been returning to the smithy from Ilphaesn after nearly failing the Slide. Had his energy improved so much? Or was he so accustomed to Sliding with Jessa that when he traveled alone, he didn’t feel the same strain?
Now he only felt mild effects from the Sliding he’d done today. He knew he could return to shore easily if he needed to.
Another wave sent him skittering across the floor. Catching himself on one of the crates, he wished he had thought to bring the lantern. At least then, he would have been able to see what Jessa had seen in the hold. Instead, he was left with the image the lorcith created in his mind and the song he heard. With as much as the ship held, he had the sense of light all around him from it.
Rsiran tried to orient himself to find the door. Strangely, it was the lorcith that let him find what he needed. Listening to the lorcith, he recognized a space where there was nothing. He made his way slowly to that spot, walking rather than Sliding. Without seeing exactly where he wanted to go, he didn’t want to risk himself. Again. Already he had taken more risks today than he should have.
When he reached the door, he twisted the handle slowly, opened the door just a crack, and peeked out into the hall. No lanterns burned, but some of the fading daylight came down the stairs to the hall, giving him enough light to nearly see.
He crept down the passageway. He shouldn’t need to hide—especially if he planned to announce his presence to Firell—but he wanted to make sure he was alone first. And Rsiran hadn’t seen the others Firell worked with for some time. Were they even still with him? Once, when he first met Brusus, they had come to the Barth and diced, but since then, they hadn’t returned. Likely as not, that meant nothing. But what if they learned Firell was smuggling something they weren’t comfortable with?
Rsiran shook the worry from his mind as he reached the stairs. But as he did, the sound of voices came from behind him.
He frowned. There hadn’t been anyone there before. He remembered two other doors along the hall when he had come with Jessa, but nothing more than that. Perhaps they were sleeping quarters?
That meant Firell, if here, would not be alone.
He debated simply returning to shore. Last time he’d been here, Shael had been with him, but Shael couldn’t have beaten him to the ship.
Moving carefully, he paused at the first door. Not here. At the next door, voices drifted out, slightly muffled by the door but loud enough that he could hear.
“You should not be here.”
This from Firell. He seemed agitated.
“And yet here I am.”
He didn’t recognize this voice, but something about it sounded familiar.
“Why? Why have you come to me here on my ship?”
Soft laughter. “Your ship? Like so many others, you think yourself so in control.”
Something pounded angrily, like a fist on wood. “Damn you, this is my ship. You might be able to twist me into your plans, but do not think I am powerless against you.”
More soft laughter. Then another loud thump. This time, a soft grunt followed. “And do not think I fear what you can do, smuggler.”
Rsiran should leave. He knew he should leave, but if Firell was in trouble… Besides, he needed to know why Firell had the lorcith. If he could learn that by simply listening, then he wouldn’t have to reveal that he can Slide.
“Have at it, then.” Firell spoke with a tight strain, and his voice turned slightly high pitched. “But if you do this, then you will have to find another to replace me. You will struggle to find a ship as capable as the Winding Sails.”
“You think I wouldn’t take your ship?”
“You think I would leave it for you?”
For a moment, neither man spoke. Rsiran worried they would step into the hall—and then he would have no choice but to Slide away—but neither did.
“You can still be useful.”
“What is it you want from me? We are almost finished loading your cargo. Then I will sail for Asador, as you’ve directed.”
“Yes, Asador this time. And then next will be Thyr.”
“Do you know how much trouble I have getting this onto my ship? And each time you send more and more.”
“I have more working now. Your job is to move it for me. This is something even I cannot do.”
“And I have told you how difficult it is to move. Each one has to be loaded individually before it can be brought here. That takes time! Already I’ve been in port much long than I prefer. How much longer do I risk being caught by the constables?”
“They will not bother you.”
Firell laughed bitterly. “Of course they won’t. And that doesn’t draw attention either?”
“I have told you before that I do not care about your troubles. You know the terms.”
“If my ship is torn apart carrying your supplies, your terms won’t do you a damn bit of good, will they?”
The other man laughed softly. “Then you had best use more caution. I thought you claimed you were the most skilled smuggler out of Elaeavn.”
“You have ensured that I am practically the only smuggler out of Elaeavn. That is why you used me.”
“That is not the only reason.”
“No. That is not,” Firell agreed. “He is better connected than you know. How long do you think you can keep this from him?”
Another laugh. “I only need to keep it from him a little longer. After that… well, then I will be ready.”
“Ready for what?”
The other voice laughed softly but didn’t answer.
A chair scooted back and slammed into the wall. “And after this is over? Then you will return her?”
“Only then.”
“Unharmed?”
“You should focus on your task before worrying about your payment.”
“Damn you!”
“Can’t you tell? I have already been damned. Now—don’t make me return here again.”
The soft sound of something scraping across wood filtered through the door before fading. Then he hear
d Firell whisper. “You were supposed to be dead.”
After what he heard, Rsiran didn’t wait to see Firell’s uninvited visitor. He Slid away.
Chapter 15
Night 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.
* * *
He 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 opportu
nity 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.
The Heartstone Blade (The Dark Ability Book 2) Page 11