The Heartstone Blade (The Dark Ability Book 2)

by Holmberg, D. K.

  Della lived in a cozy home buried in Lower Town, though the area she lived in looked like so many homes in Upper Town. No one walked along the street. The fading light from the sun cast long shadows here, giving her even more privacy.

  When he first met Brusus, he had ended up at the healer’s home often. Mostly for himself. Injured and bleeding from attacks in the mine, Della had healed him. And then for Brusus and Jessa. In all that time, the healer had never complained about the visits.

  Had it really been since the palace break-in that he’d been to Della’s home?

  The door opened, as if she waited for him.

  Wrinkles around her green eyes softened when she saw him standing outside, and she stood with a straighter back than the last time he’d seen her. Then she’d had to use every bit of her ability to keep Brusus alive. A scarf made of indigo and violet wrapped around her shoulders. Grey hair twisted neatly into a bun atop her head. “You don’t have to just stand there, waiting. Usually, you just come right in.”

  She disappeared into the house, leaving the door ajar. Rsiran took a deep breath and stepped into her home, closing the door behind him.

  As usual, a small fire crackled in the hearth. Two chairs angled toward the fireplace. A table rested between them. A steaming mug—likely mint tea—sat atop the table. Everything looked familiar and felt more like home than the one he’d grown up in.

  Della rustled behind a stack of shelves for a moment before reappearing. She nodded at the chair. “Sit.”

  Rsiran had learned not to argue with Della. A healer of considerable skill, there was more to her than that. She had saved his life at least twice. And she had healed Jessa when Josun had tried taking her life. For all that, Rsiran owed her everything.

  “Where is your girl?” Della dropped into one of the chairs, waiting for him to sit. When he did, she motioned to the mug.

  “She’s…” He debated telling Della where Jessa had gone, but likely the healer knew. She had considerable skill at Reading. “She’s looking for Brusus.”

  Della grunted and pointed to the mug again.

  Rsiran lifted it and took a sip. It tasted of warm mint and left his mouth tingling. The flavor reminded him of the warm drinks she’d given him in the days after he’d managed to Slide from the palace, days spent watching over Jessa, waiting for her to be well enough to leave. Della had been weakened by healing Brusus, too weak to do much more than stabilize any injuries. That was a weakness he understood, one that came from pushing too hard with your abilities. As weak as he’d been just Sliding into the palace, he almost hadn’t been able get them back out.

  “How did you know I was coming?”

  “Because I pulled you here.”

  She said it so nonchalantly that Rsiran almost missed the significance of what she said.

  “What do you mean you pulled me here?”

  Della turned away from the fire and met Rsiran’s eyes with an iron gaze. “That is one of my gifts,” she said.

  “One of your gifts? You’re a healer—”

  Della took a sip from her mug. A playful smile twitched the corners of her mouth. “Just a healer?”

  She was more than a healer but he didn’t quite know what. “How is it possible that you brought me here?”

  Della set her mug down. “It’s unfortunate that you haven’t had anyone around to teach you. Your ability has its uses, but like all abilities, it has a weakness.”

  “What weaknesses?”

  She turned back to the fire. “Think of other abilities. Take Reading. You can build barriers in your mind to prevent Readers, yours more fortified than most. Sliding is like that. You have become particularly strong, Rsiran. Impressive how you managed that without training.”

  As she spoke of her abilities—not only healing, but Reading and now the ability to pull on his Slide, he wondered about Della. “Are you one of the Elvraeth?”

  She laughed softly. “Many put much stock in how many abilities the Elvraeth possess, yet they forget that it matters more how each ability is used. I’ve known those with Sight who could do more with their ability than any who live in the palace.”

  Rsiran noticed that it was not a denial. “How did you pull me here?”

  Della looked at the fire for a moment. Then she reached to the side of her chair to lift a pot of water that she poured into a cup. Steam drifted from it. Rsiran recognized the minty aroma as the same as his tea. Della cupped her hands around the mug and inhaled deeply. Her eyes suddenly flared a deeper green before fading back.

  “When you Slide, you create a ripple.” She shook her mug, swirling the tea. “Don’t ask me to explain it any more than that, because I cannot. This ripple is what lets you move from one place to the next, what protects you from Seers like Haern. But it can be influenced.”

  “How many can do that?” Rsiran started thinking of all the ways that he could be in danger, how Sliding was no longer safe.

  “Not many. Doing so requires a certain… strength… that most lack.”

  “How many know? How many can sense these ripples?” He had sudden visions of being pulled along when he Slid, taken to places he had not intended to go.

  She shrugged, smiling at him. “No more than a few. But those who do will feel your Sliding, will feel the ripples. And yours have grown more powerful since I met you.”

  “Jessa often Slides with me.”

  Della nodded. “That would explain it, I suppose. I imagine that makes you stronger so that when you Slide alone it weakens you less.”

  He nodded his acknowledgment, having noticed it himself in recent days.

  She smiled at him. “I see that it has.”

  “I still don’t know if I could Slide like I saw Josun Elvraeth.”

  “I think he practiced constantly to reach that level. There is no question you could reach the same level of skill.”

  “When I first met him in the warehouse, I think he Slid with every step.”

  “And you wonder about doing the same?”

  He’d considered it. The way Josun had moved, each step a Slide so that he practically flickered forward, made him seem… something more. Rsiran couldn’t do that. Not with every step, and certainly not with Jessa along with him. He wouldn’t make it through the day if he did that.

  “Did you feel those ripples?”

  “Every Slide makes ripples. The size of the Slide is what determines how far out they spread. Think of dropping a stone in the bay. A small stone sends tiny waves.” She tapped the side of her mug with a bent finger, softly at first. The tea rolled to the edges and stopped. “But a larger stone creates a bigger disturbance. Your Sliding is much the same.” She tapped more strongly this time, and the tea sloshed around, swirling for a moment before settling.

  “So when I came from Ilphaesn?”

  “I had not known it was you, but I felt it.”

  Rsiran thought of all the Slides he had done over the last few days. Traveling to Firell’s ship. To Ilphaesn with Jessa. Throughout the city. Had Della felt them all?

  “How many ripples can you feel?” And he had thought Sliding left his traveling invisible, but if Della knew when he Slid, he was not as unseen as he thought.

  “Not all are felt the same way. Most Sliders do not even know what they do. But those with strength, like you and the Elvraeth, make larger ripples.” She leaned toward the fire. Light from the flames reflected from her deep green eyes. “I cannot tell how many like you there are, Rsiran. There is no signature to Sliding. It just doesn’t work like that. But know that you are not alone with your gift.”

  He took another sip of the mint tea. After meeting Josun, he hadn’t thought that he was alone with his gift, but it was reassuring that there were others like him. Reassuring… and frightening. How many other Elvraeth could Slide? They were the most likely to manifest the ability. Josun claimed the council had worked to eliminate it, but if Rsiran could do it—and Josun—it seemed likely others of the Elvraeth could as well. And what if t
here were others like Josun, those who sided with him in his rebellion?

  “Why did you pull me here tonight?” he asked.

  “There is much you have yet to learn about your gifts. It is different from some of the other gifts, different from Sight or Reading. Mistakes can happen. You can get hurt. Practice, simply using your ability can help but may not be enough. Ignorance can kill you as easily as a misstep.”

  “I know.”

  “But you do not yet know how to control your abilities. Not fully. That is what you must practice.”

  Other gifts were well enough known. One with Sight could help another with Sight learn the intricacies of the gift. But with Sliding, Rsiran did not know who else to ask. Just as he’d learned of his ability by chance, he had to learn how to control it the same way. Doing so put him in a certain type of danger. “I do what I can.”

  She watched him. Rsiran had the sense that she wanted to say something but did not. Instead, she shifted her scarf and settled into her chair.

  “There is something else you must know about your gifts,” Della said.

  “What?”

  “You have learned that you cannot Slide everywhere.”

  He nodded slowly.

  “Long ago, barriers were constructed to prevent Sliding without warning. A safeguard, though it should not have been necessary, not if the gifts had been used as the Great Watcher intended. But these barriers impede one with your gifts. I do not know how you managed to escape from the palace. From what I know of your ability, that should not have been possible.”

  “Why?”

  “There is a reason the Elvraeth claimed Ilphaesn as their own. That the earliest Elvraeth built the city so near the mountain is no coincidence.”

  “The lorcith? I can Slide to the mines, and can carry lorcith with me.” He thought of the knives he carried, of the lorcith he’d taken away from the mines. How many times had he Slid before he had even practiced much? And, many times, injured. Had he not been able to Slide with lorcith, he would have died in the mines.

  “Not the lorcith alone. There is a process that turns it into something more, something the early Elvraeth smiths created.” She saw his face. “You think the Elvraeth always secluded themselves in the palace? That they never did any work?” She laughed softly. “Such seclusion is a new thing, and Elaeavn is the worse for it.” She took a long sip of her tea. “But as to the lorcith, I cannot tell you what it is, or how you could make it, but the change creates a barrier those who can Slide cannot pass through.” She looked over at him. “Or so I thought.”

  “It’s an alloy of lorcith,” he explained.

  Della looked at him, mug pausing as she raised it to her mouth. “You already know of it.”

  He nodded, realizing this was the real reason that Della had pulled him here.

  “How did you Slide through the palace barrier, Rsiran?”

  They had never spoken about it before. When he’d emerged in her home, he said nothing of how he had escaped the palace. But why ask now?

  “I have a connection to lorcith,” he explained. “It helps me with my forgings. The lorcith seems to speak to me.”

  Della studied him for a moment. “You have told me that.”

  “Once I’ve made something, I seem to have a different connection.” He took a deep breath and pulled one of the knives from his pocket. His work at the forge had strengthened the connection. The knife hung in the air until Rsiran grabbed it and pushed it back.

  “Yes. Haern spoke of this. If I hadn’t known you were descended from the earliest smiths, this ability would tell me all I needed to know.” She shifted the scarf set around her shoulders and sighed. “A gift long thought lost, but like in so many things, the Great Watcher surprises me.” She sipped her tea and closed her eyes. “So that is how you escaped the palace?”

  “I sensed something I’d made. The knives in your home, I think. I used that connection as a sort of anchor to pull myself here.”

  “And did you do the same within the palace?”

  “Josun had stolen a sword I’d made. I think he Slid into the smithy after he learned of my ability.” Rsiran remembered his surprise at learning that Josun had stolen the sword and how easily Josun had managed to Read him. Since he’d learned to fortify his mental barriers, he wondered how easily he had been Read before. How had Josun not known of his connection to the lorcith? Or had he known, but just not understood what it meant? “He had it with him. Without the sword in the palace, I don’t think we would have found him.”

  She leaned back in her chair and placed her fingers on either side of her head, rubbing her temples. “I cannot tell what that means,” she admitted. “I did not know that a connection to the lorcith would allow you to overcome the barrier it created. I suspect that he did not, either. It is a mistake that will not be made again.”

  Rsiran froze, the cup of tea halfway to his mouth. “He died that night. Whistle dust coated my knife…”

  Della looked at him carefully. “One can survive being poisoned with whistle dust. Difficult, but not impossible.”

  Rsiran suppressed the fear he suddenly felt. Josun knew of his abilities. All of them. “But he hasn’t come for us.”

  Della leaned back and took another sip of her tea. Lines deepened around her face, shadows from the fire flickering around her. “Are you certain he hasn’t?”

  Chapter 19

  Rsiran stood in the alley outside the Wretched Barth, shade from the overcast sky protecting him as he emerged from his Slide. The air held a chill to it and smelled of a coming rain. Somewhere, a cat yowled. Rsiran listened and did not hear an answering cry.

  He shivered, wishing he had his cloak. After what Della had told him, he no longer felt safe. Even Sliding no longer left him feeling safe, especially if someone could feel the ripple of his Slide, or worse, draw him toward them. Just thinking of what could happen left him uncomfortable and anxious.

  He wanted to ask Della more questions. He had the sense that she would answer them willingly. As far as he knew, that was the reason she had drawn him to her. In all the time he’d lived in Elaeavn, he’d never had someone able to answer questions about his ability, or willing. Whatever Della’s secrets, she knew more than anyone he’d ever met.

  But he hadn’t been willing to stay behind any longer. Jessa expected him. And while he’d been at Della’s, he’d felt the shifting of the lorcith charm and knew she was closer. He couldn’t keep Jessa waiting much longer.

  Too much had changed. More than he felt capable of answering alone. Jessa tried helping, but he had the sense that she felt just as overwhelmed as he did. Haern might have Seen something, but if he had, wouldn’t he have come looking for them? And Brusus… Brusus had something else he didn’t fully share.

  But when he finally found Brusus, what would he tell him? Which came first? Did he share that they’d found someone in the warehouse? Or did he tell him that Firell had crates of unshaped lorcith on his ship? Lorcith that Firell smuggled for someone else. Or that Shael had delivered one of the crates of lorcith to his smithy—managing to sneak past the lock meant to keep him safe—so that he now had enough lorcith for whatever it was Shael wanted him to make?

  Then there was Della’s fear that Josun Elvraeth still lived. And if he did, if he was the person, the part of the rebellion, that Firell aided, then none of them were safe.

  Part of him simply wanted to return to the smithy. To work the forge. Tonight, he felt as if he particularly needed to work through what he’d learned. But he would not leave Jessa waiting any longer. That, more than anything, pulled him to the Barth. Waiting did nothing other than keep her worrying. Rsiran hurried out of the alley and through the door to the Barth.

  As soon as he did, he sensed something was off.

  A lute player strummed near the back of the tavern. The fire crackled as it always did. The scent of roasting meat and bread crowded out the stink from the street outside, but a pall hung over everything, a hushed sense of quie
t.

  Jessa perched on a stool along one wall. Haern sat across from her. Neither spoke. The cup of dice rested on the table, untouched.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as he approached.

  Relief washed over Jessa’s face. “You’re here. When you didn’t meet me…”

  “I’m sorry, Jessa. I… I went to see Della.” That hadn’t been his intent, but perhaps that was why Della had pulled him to her. He needed to know doing so was possible.

  Haern frowned, his eyes going distant.

  “I told you I would be there,” she said. “Were you…” She looked at Haern, but he shook his head.

  “You know that I can’t See him like the rest of you. That ability of his masks him.”

  Rsiran sat next to her and reached for her hand, only to find it trembling. “What happened?”

  Jessa turned and looked toward the end of the tavern. Normally, Lianna would be bustling behind the counter, running out food or drinks. “It’s Lianna, Rsiran. Brusus found her…”

  “Lianna?” He looked toward the kitchen, practically expecting her to come out. And then the words sunk in. “What do you mean that Brusus found her?”

  Haern met his eyes. “Near the docks. He does not think it chance that he was the one to find her.”

  “When?”

  “Just now,” Jessa said. “He won’t leave.”

  “Is she hurt? Should I get Della?”

  Haern shook his head. “It will not matter.”

  Understanding washed over him, explaining the pall over the Barth, and why everyone seemed so subdued.

  Lianna was dead.

  Everything started to jumble together. Connections that he had feared began stringing together. He and Jessa had been attacked in the warehouse. Lorcith on Firell’s ship. An Elvraeth or part of a rebellion possibly involved. And Della’s fear that Josun might live.

  No longer could he doubt that they were related.

  Rsiran stood and started toward the door of the tavern.

  “Where are you going, Rsiran?” Haern asked.

  He paused, nearly at the door. “Brusus needs us now.” Rsiran pushed open the door and didn’t bother to listen for it to close.