Blood of the Watcher (The Dark Ability Book 4)

by D. K. Holmberg

  Then what?

  Maybe he had it wrong. Maybe this was nothing of his father’s at all. He would have to ask Brusus.

  Rsiran tucked the piece of metal into his pocket and scanned the rest of the hut. There was nothing else here that he could see. His father had been held here in the months following his capture, and Rsiran thought he should feel something, some emotional reaction. But he struggled to come up with any sort of sympathy for his father after what he’d put Rsiran through. In spite of that, he still wanted to find out why the scholars had taken him when they arrived at the Tower of Scholars. What did they intend for him?

  He shook away those unanswered questions, realizing he’d spent enough time here. He needed to find Haern and continue the training that he intended. Rsiran Slid from the hut, emerging just outside the door.

  As soon as he did, he sensed lorcith.

  Without waiting, he Slid forward two steps. Something struck the door behind where he’d been standing. He spun to see a lorcith knife protruding from the door. Rsiran Slid again, this time a dozen steps to the right, pulling on the knife intended for him at the same time and sending it whistling back in the direction that he’d sensed it. It streaked into the trees and fell to the ground.

  Damn Haern for testing him like this.

  In the smithy, Haern stopped using lorcith blades, knowing that Rsiran could detect them easily enough, even with knives that he had not made. Haern had thought to test him in the Aisl, and probably knew that Rsiran wasn’t ready for anything not made of lorcith.

  Rsiran sensed no other lorcith, but doubted that Haern had departed. If it was Haern, then this was all a part of his training. If it was not… Rsiran didn’t want to think of what might happen if it wasn’t Haern. He had to find out who was hiding in the trees. If it wasn’t Haern, he needed to know.

  He didn’t want to move until he knew what he might be dealing with. Any movement might give him away. Even Sliding could do that. Jessa told him what she saw when he Slid, the flash of colors that came with it, so he wanted to avoid giving himself away.

  How would he be able to determine who might be out there, especially if they didn’t carry lorcith—or heartstone—on them?

  Maybe he couldn’t, and maybe that was the point Haern wanted to make. Rsiran might have certain abilities that protected him and kept him safe, but unless his attackers carried lorcith, his ability was neutralized.

  That didn’t mean he was in danger, necessarily. Especially when traveling alone.

  When Jessa Slid with him, he had to worry about something happening to her. He had to ensure they kept in contact so that if something did happen and they needed to escape, they could.

  Alone, he could Slide quickly. Even the ripples formed by his Sliding should be minimal.

  What he needed was a better way to see. A better vantage. That would be his best option, but there was nothing but trees all around him. He might be able to Slide onto a high branch, but he could just as easily fall attempting that. Sliding someplace like that was no different from Sliding to a narrow ledge.

  But he could pull himself, couldn’t he? He had another way to Slide, one that didn’t require him to step into the Slide. There was a different type of control when he did that.

  Looking up, he surveyed the trees and considered which one to start with. The sjihn trees here were all massive. The hut was situated deeper into the forest where more mature trees grew. They were not quite as tall as some that grew deeper in the forest, those that lived even beyond where Lianna was buried, but should be enough for him to get a better look at what might be moving around him. One thick branch seemed to stretch between trees, something like a walkway.

  Rsiran focused on it, and rather than stepping into the Slide—a movement that might be visible to someone with Sight—he pulled himself toward it. The difference was subtle, but it changed the way that he traveled. With Sliding, there was the sense of movement, and of flashes of color, and even the bitter scent of lorcith. Sliding this way had no real sense of movement, none of the wind that whistled through his ears. Muted white light surrounded him and the air smelled almost fragrant.

  When he emerged, he stood balanced on the branch and looking down at the forest floor below. From this vantage, he could see some of the city through the trees, but the buildings were little more than gradations of color. From outside, especially from the sea, the city had been designed to flow into to the rock. Above it all rose Krali Rock, towering over the city.

  Rsiran turned his attention away from the city and looked to the forest below him. The hut occupied much of a small clearing. The grasses that he hadn’t thought trampled appeared more compacted now than when he’d been down on the ground. Not only could he see his boot marks, but those of others, though he couldn’t be sure how many others without getting much closer. Small scrub plants cropped up near the edge of the trees, but otherwise, nothing but the sjihn trees grew here.

  He moved slowly along the branch, looking for any sign of whoever had thrown the knife, staring at the ground. Probably Haern, but a nagging worry made him wonder if he was wrong. Nothing moved that would explain what might be here.

  Rsiran reached the trunk of the tree and leaned back against it. Somehow, he was missing something. He shouldn’t remain here, not by himself, but what if it was only Haern? How would he explain that he’d Slid away at the first sign of an attack, especially after what Haern had been trying to demonstrate to him?

  No, he needed to find him.

  He looked deeper into the forest, and away from the clearing, toward another large tree with a similarly large branch. Focusing on it, he pulled himself in the Slide, again choosing this technique rather than stepping into the Slide. When he emerged this time, the darkness of the canopy hung overhead, filtering out more of the light and making it harder to see anything.

  Rsiran studied the ground. Movement should be easier to find. He scanned from tree to tree, but saw nothing that indicated anything—or anyone—moving.

  Maybe he’d been mistaken.

  Had Haern climbed into the branches to hide? He wouldn’t put it past him, but if Haern had climbed into the trees, Rsiran would be better equipped to chase after him. He didn’t have to crawl along the rough sjihn bark, or try to scale the massive trunks.

  With his attention turned to the trees, he almost missed the sudden flare of lorcith again.

  Rsiran frowned. The sense was back near the hut.

  He fixed his attention on the tree that he’d just come from, and pulled himself back to the branch.

  When he emerged, he saw movement below him. The door to the hut hung open—likely forced open, from the way that it hung half-splintered on the frame. A solitary figure stalked around the edge of the hut.

  At first, Rsiran thought that it was Haern and nearly Slid down to surprise him, but he hesitated. There was something different about the posture and the way the person flickered as he moved that made him hesitate.

  Flicker.

  Not Haern.

  Rsiran’s heart started pounding so loud that he feared someone who might be a Listener could hear. He slammed heartstone-infused barriers into place in his mind, suddenly concerned. And he understood why he hadn’t detected lorcith before now: Whoever was down in the clearing below could Slide.

  Chapter 4

  Rsiran should return to the safety of the smithy, or at least to the outskirts of the forest and find Haern, but first, he wanted to find out who had come to the hut, and why.

  Whoever it was must have detected him Sliding and known he was here. The attack as soon as he Slid outside the hut had told him that. But why kick down the door if whoever this was could Slide as well?

  Another figure emerged from the hut. A tall woman with dark eyes and deep black hair slipped out from the door. She held a short sword in hand and walked in a casual way that reminded him of the Neelish sellsword who had nearly killed Brusus. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she surveyed the clearing, pausing
to turn to the remains of the door where the lorcith knife had pierced the wood.

  She traced her fingers along the wood for a moment before craning her neck so that she could see behind her. Rsiran clung to the tree, ready to Slide if needed, as she surveyed the forest.

  “What is it?” The other figure appeared from the side of the hut and pushed a hood back revealing a youthful face with short brown hair and a thin beard to match.

  “Your knife,” the woman said.

  Their voices carried to him, but barely. Rsiran strained to hear, wanting to know if these were Forgotten or Venass or some new enemy. He wasn’t sure that he was prepared to have one more group that might be after him.

  “What about it? I threw it blunt end so it wouldn’t kill, and he Slid before it hit him.”

  “Yes,” the woman said, “then where is it?”

  The man stalked past her and leaned into the door. He touched it much like the woman had, and his fingers traced a pattern across the wood. “Why would he linger long enough to take the knife?”

  “Did you see him do that?” she asked.

  The man flickered and appeared at the edge of the trees. There seemed to be a slight swirl of colors as he did, and then he emerged nearly directly below Rsiran. “Didn’t see him, but only a fool would have taken the time to fetch a knife…”

  “Unless he didn’t know we were here.”

  The man grunted. “You certain that he didn’t? Seemed to pause long enough, and you said he Slid as soon as the knife started toward him.”

  The woman tilted her head in agreement. “That’s what I said.”

  “Then where did he go?”

  Her eyes scanned the trees. “It doesn’t work like that,” she said.

  The man Slid back to her, emerging near the hut. Rsiran noted how quickly he moved, blinking from one place to the next, almost as if sprinting. The Forgotten that he’d met had similar speed with Sliding, not to mention Josun’s control. Was there a benefit to Sliding quickly? He hadn’t found one, but that didn’t mean that one didn’t exist. Rsiran didn’t have the same advantage as others with his ability; there was no one to ask about technique, and ways to use Sliding, not like those with different abilities had.

  “Then tell me, Sarah, how does it work?”

  The woman flipped her sword toward the man, but he simply Slid a step to the side. As he emerged, essentially flickering back into view, he swung his sword up and knocked hers down.

  That was what Haern wanted Rsiran to learn.

  “Know that it doesn’t,” she said.

  The man laughed softly. “You lost him? After all the time we spent searching for him, and now you’ve lost him?”

  She fixed the man with a hard-eyed expression. “He’s not nearly as easy to detect as some.”

  “I thought you said he was loud?”

  “At times. As are you.”

  “And what does it mean that he’s loud?”

  Sarah looked beyond the man and shook her head. “It means strength, Valn. This one… he is incredibly strong.”

  “Stronger than—”

  As he asked, Rsiran slipped on the branch.

  Sarah glanced at the trees and her eyes went wide.

  He didn’t dare wait any longer, and Slid.

  Rsiran emerged briefly, standing on the edge of the dock, before Sliding again, this time to the alley along where his father’s shop had been, and then once more, finally to his smithy. If Sarah was able to follow his Slides, he didn’t want to take the chance that she might be able to track him back to the smithy. Chances were that she already knew where to find him, but if she didn’t, then he wanted to be careful.

  And here he’d been concerned that his Sliding could be influenced. That wasn’t the only risk anymore, not if there was someone with the ability to track his Slides, as well as someone else who was able to Slide. They could possibly follow him anywhere.

  Wasn’t that the reason the Forgotten didn’t Slide often? They feared their Sliding might be influenced. And, it seemed, for good reason.

  A heavy pounding came on the door to his smithy.

  Rsiran jumped. He had six knives on him. Enough for the most part, but what if Sarah and this man Valn had followed him? He was protected by the heartstone alloy in the walls of the smithy, but he might not be protected if they simply tried to kick in the door.

  The smithy was supposed to be a place of safety, but what if it no longer was?

  Sliding—though this time, pulling himself rather than stepping into it—he emerged on the roof of his smithy. From here, he could see the street, though part of it remained obscured by the overhang of the roof. The air smelled of the filth from this part of Lower Town, in so many ways the stench worse here than in the rest of Lower Town, the benefit being it masked the smell of lorcith that might emanate from the smithy. Inside, that stink could be ignored, and the lorcith that he forged often overpowered it, anyway. He looked down, worried about what he might find.

  Haern stood outside the door to the smithy alone.

  Rsiran Slid to him, grabbed him by the sleeve, and then Slid back into the smithy, pulling through the bars of heartstone alloy.

  Haern jerked his arm away as they emerged inside. Rsiran twisted the knob on the lantern on his table, letting pale blue light spill across the smithy.

  “What the—” Haern started. “Rsiran, where were you?”

  He shook his head, touching his pocket to feel the small sheet of metal that he’d discovered in the hut, wondering why his father might have stuffed it into the wall.

  “When you didn’t come, I made my way deeper into the forest,” Rsiran said.

  “I told you to wait. That was part of the training.”

  Rsiran breathed out softly, trying to keep an image of Valn and Sarah fixed in his mind. He needed to know whether they were with the Forgotten or if they were with Venass. Until he knew, he wouldn’t be comfortable. Valn and his Sliding ability seemed more likely to make him one of the Forgotten, but the woman Sarah looked nothing like someone of Elaeavn. She was short, compact, and appeared deadly.

  “I went to the hut,” Rsiran said. “I hadn’t been there since…” He shook his head. Haern wouldn’t understand why he’d felt the need to return to the hut, and truthfully, Rsiran didn’t really know, either. He’d gone because he’d wanted to see the inside, because he’d been thinking about his father, and because he couldn’t shake the idea that there was something about Thom that he needed to know, only… what he had found had been different.

  “I know. Since Thom convinced you to go to Venass,” Haern said. “There’s nothing there. Brusus locked it after you left. Best we not use it, anyway, especially if Thom knows it exists.”

  Rsiran nodded. He should have been smarter than that and should have stayed away. “When I Slid out of the hut, I was attacked,” he went on. “At first, I thought it was you, that maybe you were playing some sort of training game with me, and when I couldn’t find you, I went to the trees. From there...”

  “What?” Haern asked.

  “There was activity near the hut. A Slider and a woman who I think can sense Sliding, much like Della. They were waiting for me.”

  “Are you sure they waited for you?”

  “They knew I could Slide, Haern. They were expecting it. The woman said she could sense it, and that my Sliding was loud.”

  Haern breathed out a soft swear. “Same thing Brusus used to say about your thoughts. He tell you that?”

  Rsiran had forgotten about Brusus telling him that, but then that had been before he started blocking his thoughts with lorcith and heartstone.

  “What did they want?” Haern asked.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t remain behind long enough to find out.”

  “You certain it was you they wanted, though?”

  Rsiran thought about what he’d overheard from them. “Yes.”

  Haern started pacing along the length of the smithy. One of his knives flipped into his ha
nds, and he twisted it as he walked. “Could you tell where they might be from?”

  “That’s what I was trying to do,” he admitted, “but I… I slipped and she heard me. I had to Slide away before finding out who they might be with.”

  Haern paused and faced him. “Sliding likely means the Forgotten.”

  “It could mean Venass,” Rsiran said. “They were able to direct my Sliding when we were there.”

  “Damn,” Haern whispered. “And there’s nothing I can See, at least nothing bright enough, to know what they might be after. We haven’t heard much from either of them over the last few weeks, not since you escaped from the palace and Thom attacked. I kept thinking that they might come back to us, or that word of them might reach us, but there’s been nothing.”

  “Not even in the palace?” Rsiran asked.

  “Brusus’s contacts haven’t got much to share, and without anything to really bribe them with, we’re not likely to learn much, anyway.”

  Rsiran glanced at the table covered with his lorcith forgings. Brusus had used the forgings as a way to get information, but had stopped when Rsiran had asked him to.

  Hearn followed the direction of his gaze and shook his head. “Don’t matter that much anyway, Rsiran. There’s only so much you can learn from the palace. They’re not likely to share with Brusus anything about your break-in, and the Forgotten… well, that’s sort of an off-limits topic.”

  “I don’t want to be in the middle of all of this,” Rsiran said. “I don’t want to be the reason anyone gets hurt.”

  Haern grunted. “The way I see it, there’s not much that you’re going to be able to do to avoid it. Some things drag you in, regardless of whether you want them to or not.”

  “You’re the one who told me what’s coming,” Rsiran said.

  Haern nodded. “That I did. And that don’t change anything that is to come, now does it? You want to keep yourself safe, and you want to keep your friends safe, but what’s going on is bigger than all of us. And they don’t want no one interfering.”