The Heartstone Blade (The Dark Ability Book 2)

by Holmberg, D. K.

  With that, Josun Slid.

  Chapter 36

  Once more, Rsiran stood in the smithy. The blue lantern rested atop the table, now devoid of anything he’d forged, spilling cold light around it and pushing back the shadows of the night. Night was for forging. Since claiming the smithy, his best work had been done at night and in the darkness, the thick stone trapping the sound of his hammer. And now, he’d have to do his best work yet, even if he didn’t understand why.

  Coals flared hot and angry, heat raising a shimmer of sweat on his arms and face. The orange glow reflected off the gleaming anvil. A massive lump of lorcith sat atop it, waiting for him to place it into the coals, but he had not. Not yet.

  Heartstone sat on one of the back shelves. Rsiran could not bring himself to set it any closer. Now that he understood what it did, how it changed the lorcith—and more than any simple alloy—he didn’t want to look at it.

  But he had the night. Long enough to create the sword Josun wanted. And if he could do it, then maybe Jessa had a chance.

  The schematic Shael had left for him lay folded open on the table. Rsiran still didn’t know how to make what the plans indicated—some way of forcing lorcith and heartstone, he now knew—but did that even matter when he could hear from the lorcith what it would require?

  Rsiran sighed. Even if he did this thing, there was no guarantee that Josun would return Jessa to him. Like Firell, he would continue to serve him, praying for the chance that he could see her again as he made more and more of the alloy for Josun.

  “You are right to doubt his intentions.”

  Rsiran spun. He should not have been surprised to see Della standing behind him, but he hadn’t heard her enter. For a moment, he wondered if she had Slid to the smithy, but she had denied that ability. And he’d never known Della to lie to him. “You knew I had returned.”

  She glanced at the fire as she made her way over to him. One hand touched his arm and her eyes closed. She left it there for a long moment. “Something has changed,” she said softly.

  He shook her arm off. “Nothing has changed. Only what I must do to reach Jessa.”

  “You saw Josun Elvraeth.”

  He nodded. “He wanted me to Slide to Firell’s ship. Or expected me to.” Either way, the end result had been the same. It was the only way he could explain how Shael knew to trap him. And he’d thought Firell didn’t know of his ability, but Josun likely told him.

  “You have been gone for many days.”

  He’d thought as much. Days during which Jessa suffered, wondering if he would come for her. Days spent hanging from the chains in Firell’s ship, cut off from his ability to Slide. From the ability to sense lorcith.

  Della gasped.

  “You know of them? The chains?” He did not question how she Read him. His barriers were nothing to her, even reinforced with lorcith. Perhaps if he added heartstone to the mix…

  “Don’t,” Della said sharply. “Such a thing is dangerous.”

  He lifted the chains from the ground where he’d set them upon returning. Rsiran hadn’t wanted to have them touch him any longer. For some reason, they had not prevented him from returning. Only when they pierced his flesh did they seem to work that way. “I’m not sure that it does,” he said softly. The alloy might change the lorcith, but it was not dangerous, not by itself. “What are they?”

  “Those chains are an ancient creation, born out of fear and one that never should have been.”

  Rsiran felt the pull of the metal on him. Whatever had changed while he stood chained in the darkness let him feel the alloy just the same as he did the lorcith. Only… it gave understanding with it.

  “That should not be possible,” Della whispered.

  “Nothing I do should be possible,” Rsiran muttered. “So what are these chains?”

  “There once was a time when the Elvraeth needed a way to protect themselves. To keep safe from those who could travel. Those”—she waved toward the ground—“were created. And even then, they were rare. Only the greatest of the master smiths could make them. I had thought them long destroyed.”

  Rsiran looked down at the chains. “Not destroyed,” he said. “And they work.”

  Della nodded. “Many Elvraeth felt their bite. But how did Josun get them?”

  “Shael found them for him. I didn’t ask where,” he said bitterly.

  “And you? How did you escape?”

  Rsiran laughed, the anger and frustration he felt bubbling to the surface. “I’m not sure I did.”

  Della watched him, her eyes unreadable. “What does he ask of you, Rsiran?”

  “He asks me to make something for him. He says that if I do, he will release Jessa back to me. And if I don’t…” Rsiran shivered, thinking of how Josun described what he’d do to Jessa.

  “And you think he will hold true to what he says? That he will release Jessa once you demonstrate your ability to make the alloy?”

  From her tone, he knew there was something else. “If I do this thing for him, he says he will release her.”

  “Once you do that for him, will it stop there?”

  Rsiran hadn’t noticed Della nearing him. Now she stood almost alongside him. She smelled of the mint tea she preferred and looked small and frail. Different from the healer he’d met only a few months ago. That time had changed her, twisted her back, and taken some of the vibrancy from her eyes.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Can you even do it?”

  Rsiran sighed, pointing to the schematic on the table. “That shows how to create the proper forge, only I can’t follow it.” Relief surged behind her eyes. “Doesn’t matter. I think I can ask the lorcith to mix.”

  She looked at him strangely. “Is that how it works for you? You must ask the lorcith?”

  “For something like this. I could not force it into the alloy, not easily.”

  Della frowned, eyes flickering a darker green. “No. I don’t think that you should.”

  “Even if it means Jessa’s release?”

  Della looked at him. “Once you prove that you can make what has not been seen in centuries, do you truly believe he will release her?”

  From the look Firell had given him when talking about Jessa, Rsiran didn’t think it likely. What else could he do?

  “I need to get her back.”

  “Is this the only way?”

  When he looked at her, he saw the fatigue lining her face. The way her eyes wrinkled more than they once had. The tightness to her lips. Even her posture looked more stilted and bent. She waited for his answer, not saying anything. And he knew she was right. This was what Josun wanted.

  “I don’t know.”

  Della nodded. “Then find another.”

  Chapter 37

  Rsiran held a long length of lorcith shaped almost into a sword. It had none of the grace the other sword possessed, none of the smooth lines made by the steady hammering, the continued folding of the metal. But it was what he’d asked of the lorcith.

  No heartstone mixed into the sword, not for Josun. He had the sense that the lorcith would have mixed with heartstone, if only he had asked, but he didn’t risk it, not now when he had a plan to get Jessa back.

  Coals heated the forge. An orange lantern taken from Della’s house cast harsh light, nothing like the clean blue light of the heartstone lanterns. He hammered noisily but without any real intent. Waiting.

  A soft tremble almost sent a shiver down his spine. A boot scuffed the stone floor. Rsiran turned.

  Josun watched him. Deep green eyes flared as he looked through the orange lantern.

  Rsiran made certain to fortify his mental barriers. He couldn’t have Josun Reading him. He stepped partially in front of the sword.

  “Is it ready?” Josun asked.

  “Only if I know she’s safe.”

  Josun Slid to the table. To Rsiran, it felt as if a breeze fluttered through the smithy. Josun looked at the different items spread out across the table. None were l
orcith made. Those had all been given to Brusus. Only Shael’s crate of unshaped lorcith remained.

  “As I believe I said, that isn’t how this works.”

  Rsiran turned, holding the sword in both hands. He could do nothing other than swing it, but it felt right holding it as he stared down Josun. “And I will not give you anything without knowing she lives.”

  Josun Slid a step. “She lives. That’s all you need to know. If you wish to see her again, you will do what I say.”

  For a moment, Rsiran wondered if what he planned would work. Josun moved too quickly. Each step a Slide. Rsiran had no way of knowing when Josun would Slide, or where he would emerge when he did. He considered pushing one of the lorcith knives at Josun, but didn’t think he’d fall for that again.

  “The sword, Lareth. Then we will talk about what you need to do to get your girl back.”

  “You said that if I made the sword, I could get her back.”

  Josun’s smile widened. “I said we would talk.” He looked at Rsiran’s pockets. “And don’t think to send your knives at me. I will see it if you do. Know that if I don’t return by morning, she is dead.”

  At least he knew how Josun intended to escape the knife. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want her back.”

  “You can’t hurt me, Lareth. You couldn’t even kill me. Don’t you know that it takes more than a smith to kill one of the Elvraeth?”

  “You only want the alloy,” Rsiran said.

  Josun smiled. “Now you begin to understand.”

  “Why? What is it about the alloy that you care about?”

  Josun shook his head. “Someone like you cannot begin to understand,” he said.

  Rsiran bristled at the contempt that Josun demonstrated, but he had to play along, if only long enough for him to find Jessa. “And once you have the sword?”

  He shrugged. “There might be other tasks asked of you.” His gaze swept around the smithy. “It seems you enjoy your work. I would only convince you to continue. How is that wrong?”

  Rsiran feared what Josun asked, the tasks that he would be forced to complete. It might start with the sword, but there would be other requests. And then others. All while he was pulled deeper into the demands of the Elvraeth, both Forgotten and not.

  If he left Josun to his plans, they could never be safe. His friends—his family—could never be safe.

  “The sword, Lareth.”

  He nodded, then leaned to hand him the sword. Josun reached for the blade, and as he did, Rsiran pulled the chains from where they rested beneath the table. The cuffs snapped around Josun’s wrist. He tried to Slide—Rsiran felt him trying—but couldn’t.

  Rsiran pushed a pair of knives toward Josun’s throat and snapped the chain around his other wrist.

  Josun’s face twisted in a mask of rage. “She’s dead now. Whatever you think you will achieve. She is dead.”

  Rsiran dropped the half-made sword into the coals. It would heat and deform, turning into a useless lump of lorcith. A change it had agreed to for him. He Slid to Josun and grabbed the chain. Josun tried to kick, but Rsiran grabbed the hammer resting next to the anvil slammed it down onto his leg, ignoring Josun’s scream.

  “It is time we talk.”

  And then he Slid.

  * * *

  They emerged near Ilphaesn. A steady sea wind whipped around him, violent and angry. Rsiran held Josun by the chain, standing along the path leading to the peak of Ilphaesn. The sense of lorcith all around him pulled on him.

  “Where is she?” he whispered.

  Wind threatened to steal his words, but he leaned in, making certain Josun heard him.

  “You won’t find her. Your only chance is to release me and hope that I—”

  Rsiran gripped the chain and Slid.

  He wasn’t entirely certain what he planned would work. When he stood on the path, he sensed the alloy barrier blocking access to the upper mine. Since chained and trapped on Firell’s ship, he felt the alloy differently than before. He still didn’t know if he could Slide past it without an anchor.

  He felt the barrier, but it had changed. Or he had changed. He didn’t care.

  Rsiran pulled Josun through the barrier.

  They emerged into the darkness of the hidden mine that he and Jessa had discovered. Lorcith pressed all around him, giving him a different kind of sight. He pushed Josun away from him and heard him stagger, his injured leg giving out as he fell to the ground. The chains told Rsiran where he lay.

  “Where is she?” Rsiran asked again.

  Josun laughed darkly. “To feel truly threatened, I need to believe that you’ll carry through with it. You’re just not believable, Lareth. You may think you sound dangerous, but you have already shown me that you’ll do anything to get her back. And to see her alive, you will not harm me.”

  Rsiran stepped toward him. The darkness of this mine didn’t frighten him as it once had. With lorcith all around, it practically glowed in his mind. “You assume I don’t already know where she is.”

  Josun didn’t answer at first. When he did, he laughed again. “Were that true, you would have gone to her first. No. You know that you need me. She is already dead, as sure as if you made the kill yourself.”

  Rsiran Slid to Josun and kicked. He didn’t care where he hit him, only that he did. Josun grunted as Rsiran’s boot connected. “And you will stay here, trapped as she has been.”

  Rsiran walked deeper into the mine, leaving Josun lying on the ground.

  As he did, he listened to the lorcith, letting it guide him.

  When Della told him to find another way to reach Josun, it had gotten him thinking. Everything had revolved around the lorcith. First the access—the extra mine he’d discovered, the lorcith on Firell’s ship, even the lorcith scattered around the other great cities. Where else would Josun have taken Jessa that Rsiran wouldn’t be able to find her?

  He made his way quickly. At one point, a soft wind began gusting through the mine, blowing at him with the bitter odor of lorcith. And then he felt it as he expected. Jagged edges to the mine where lorcith had been taken from the walls. Voids where the ore once had been.

  He paused and listened. Did he hear the soft pulling of forged lorcith or was that his imagination?

  As he walked, he felt a growing certainty. Forged lorcith. Done by his hand.

  He Slid with each step, hurrying toward it.

  And then he reached her.

  She jerked back when he touched the charm tucked into her shirt and tried to kick out toward him.

  “Jessa,” he said.

  She stopped moving. Her body tensed. “Rsiran?”

  He lifted her, scooping her up and cradling her in his arms. She did not fight. “It’s me. I found you.”

  Jessa coughed. “Took you long enough.”

  Then he Slid her from the mine.

  Epilogue

  Rsiran sat in Della’s house drinking a mug of the mint tea. Jessa leaned back in the chair, warming herself in front of the fire. She hadn’t said much since he’d brought her from the mines.

  “Where did you leave him?” Della asked. She pressed her hand onto Jessa’s forehead, feeling for a long moment.

  “The mine. I left the chains attached so that he couldn’t Slide.”

  “You didn’t kill him,” Della asked.

  “No. Not that he didn’t deserve it. Only… I didn’t need to.” Rsiran discovered that he had been willing to kill Josun if that was what it would have taken to free Jessa. He hadn’t known that darkness—that anger—was in him before.

  Della nodded slowly and turned away.

  Jessa looked up and blinked slowly, as if finally understanding. “What chains?”

  “The alloy. Another Elvraeth gift,” he answered.

  Jessa looked back to the fire. Her eyes had a flat expression. Rsiran hoped it was only fatigue that made her look as she did.

  “Someone will free him.”

  “Why do you say that?” Rsiran aske
d.

  She took a deep breath. “I overheard them while they had me. Josun was just a part of a bigger plan with the Forgotten.”

  “I know.”

  “You know?”

  He glanced to Della who pretended she wasn’t listening. “Brusus has been looking for signs of the Forgotten. For his mother, I think.”

  Jessa sighed. “And instead they found us.”

  “They found us,” he agreed.

  “They wanted you for some reason.”

  “To make the alloy,” he said. He still didn’t know how it fit into Josun’s—and the Forgotten—plans. But now that he had Jessa back, did it matter? All he wanted was to fade into obscurity, only… only he wasn’t sure that he would be given the chance.

  “Did you?” Jessa asked.

  He shook his head, clearing the worry from it. “No. And I won’t.”

  Jessa breathed out slowly. “Maybe that was it. I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter. There are others they’ve pulled into it. That was part of their plan. The Forgotten Elvraeth were rounding up smiths, forcing them to work in other cities. Asador. Cort. Thyr.” She shook her head. “They’re everywhere.”

  “What do you mean they’re rounding up smiths?” Rsiran asked.

  Della looked at him. “That was what I hadn’t told you yet. That man you found in Asador?” Rsiran nodded, already dreading what she would say. “That was your father.”

  * * *

  Book 3 of the The Dark Ability: The Tower of Venass

  Master of lorcith. Gifted with Sliding. Pawn of the Forgotten.

  Rsiran now understands that he can use not only the arcane power of lorcith, but also that of heartstone. This ability makes him powerful, perhaps too powerful for some. Others know of his ability, and seek to use him.