Blood of the Watcher (The Dark Ability Book 4)

by D. K. Holmberg

  A painful shout shook him from his thoughts, and he looked over to his friends.

  “This is a mistake,” he said. “This is worse than Asador.”

  Brusus laughed softly, shaking his head as he did. “You’ll get used to it. Many of the ‘Great’ cities are more like the worst parts of Lower Town.”

  “Smells worse than Lower Town,” Jessa said.

  “Even near the docks?” Brusus asked, turning up his nose.

  “You get used to the docks,” Jessa said. “At least there’s safety there. No fear that someone will grab you and…”

  She didn’t finish, but Rsiran didn’t need her to and neither did Brusus. Had she ever been to Thyr or Asador before returning to Elaeavn? She’d nearly been sold into slavery in Eban. Was it a place like what he saw here? Looking at it, smelling it, made it possible that Thyr could be such a place.

  The city made him wonder if maybe Haern had been right that he should have left Jessa behind. It would have certainly been safer. Her only protections were her Sight, and her ability as a sneak. Neither would be of much use when a knife or crossbow bolt came whistling toward her. He didn’t want to be the reason that anything happened to her.

  She elbowed him, almost as if Reading him.

  “Which way?” Brusus asked.

  They stopped in a square, and Rsiran pushed away the sense of lorcith as he reached for heartstone. If he didn’t have to do that, he wouldn’t be left so vulnerable, but he knew of no other way to reach for heartstone. When he did, he didn’t have any of the awareness of the knives he carried, or of the charm he made Jessa, or even the blades that Brusus stored on his person. It was the reason he’d taken to carrying the sword, and the reason that he was thankful that he’d made Jessa the necklace for the charm out of heartstone.

  Now that he’d pushed away the sense of lorcith, he sensed the heartstone within the city. When he’d been atop the rock overlooking the Thyrass River, and looking toward the city, the heartstone that he sensed had been like nothing more than a vague light in his mind. This close, he now noticed it as a burning, a calling to him, but even that was muted.

  That was how he knew he had come to the right place.

  He started forward, following the pull of the heartstone. Jessa came alongside him—her necklace told him that she did—and placed a hand on his arm to guide him. Rsiran left his eyes closed, letting him be drawn toward the heartstone.

  He didn’t worry that Brusus would follow. There was no sound from Brusus, but then he was nearly as skilled a sneak as Jessa. Perhaps more so, he decided. Brusus had been the one to train her.

  “Rsiran,” Jessa said gently, stopping him with a slight tug on his arm.

  He opened his eyes and realized that he’d stopped in front of a building. The heartstone was beyond here, but he would have to go around. Rsiran tapped on the wall and shook his head. He should have paid attention to where he was going.

  As he looked around, others on the street watched him. A group of men stood outside what he suspected was a tavern from the way the bawdy music spilled out. One man leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, and vomited.

  He could have done without his newly sensitive Sight showing him that.

  “We close?” Brusus asked.

  “Other side of the building. And we still have a ways to go.”

  Brusus reached into the pockets of his cloak at the same time four of the men started down the street toward them. “That’s what I figured. We’re going to have to make a decision here, it seems.”

  “What decision?”

  “Either you Slide us, or we fight.”

  The men stopped about ten paces away. The nearest man had a thick mustache and dark, narrow eyes. He tapped the sword he carried at his side, offering Jessa a leering glance. The others stood on either side of him, slowly inching their way forward, as if they intended to surround them.

  “What’s your plan?” Brusus whispered.

  Jessa gripped his arm. Holding on like that, he could Slide her to safety, but he’d have to grab Brusus. He could Slide quickly, reach his friend, and pull them away from the city. Then they could wait, and Slide back when the streets were safe.

  But would they really be safe? He didn’t know much about Thyr other than Haern’s warning, but this wasn’t a place like Elaeavn. Men carried swords openly and seemed to have no reluctance to attack.

  A flash of metal caught his eye. One of the men had a crossbow and aimed it at Jessa.

  Rsiran could Slide, but that meant that he risked the man firing. They were far enough away from Elaeavn that reaching Della from this distance posed a real risk.

  “Easy, friends,” Brusus said. His words were charged, and Rsiran recognized the way that he Pushed. In some ways, it was like Compelling, though Brusus claimed he didn’t use his ability in that away. Compelling was a deeper piercing into a man’s mind, and dangerous. “We mean you no trouble.”

  The nearest man pulled on the sword at his waist. “No trouble? Got enough from your kind these days, don’t we? And that one,” he said, nodding to Jessa, “she’ll fetch plenty of coin.” A dark smile crossed his face. “Leave her and you won’t have much trouble.”

  Brusus pulled his hands from his pockets and held a pair of knives outward. He spun them in a quick flourish, nothing like what Haern would have managed, and then stepped into a defensive posture. “Don’t think I can do that. Maybe you would prefer to return to your tavern, have another mug of ale. I’d even be willing to buy, if it would let this end peacefully.”

  “This ends peaceful enough if you leave her here.”

  Rsiran readied to push the knives hidden under his cloak. He didn’t have to hurt the men that much. He could strike them on the arms, or the legs, enough to drop them so that they could move past and down the street. And then he would be able to go after Thom and the heartstone that he knew was in the city.

  Brusus flicked a single finger to Rsiran, a warning to keep from pushing with his knives.

  “Can’t do that. You see, these two are pretty fond of each other, you know. Something like that is plenty hard to find, if you ask me. Don’t want to lose it once you found it.”

  Even with these words, Brusus Pushed.

  One of the men took a step back and lowered his hand from his sword. The man with the crossbow started to lower his hand, but then jerked it back into place, as if he recognized what Brusus was doing.

  Could they know how to avoid Pushing? This close to Venass, he had to assume that they might. The scholars used lorcith, and the Great Watcher knew what else to replicate the abilities of those from Elaeavn, but even that might not be necessary, would it? The Neelish sellsword had managed to resist Brusus’s attempt to Push him when they were attacked, so some trick must be known.

  “You think your little tricks will work here?” the nearest man said. “If they worked, it wouldn’t do us any good to take your woman, now would it? Don’t know what tricks she has, but I can tell you that there are plenty of folks who would be pleased to find out.” His dark smile spread. “Now, one hundred gold is a pretty hard price to pass up.” He nodded to his friend, who raised his crossbow. “So as I said, step aside.”

  “Then I’m sorry,” Brusus said. He nodded to Rsiran.

  Rsiran had been willing to wait on Brusus, willing to avoid needing to harm these men, but he also was willing to do what was needed to keep Jessa safe. If they intended to attack them and take her, he would stop them.

  With something almost like a flicker of pressure, he pushed the knives hidden beneath his cloak toward the three men. Each knife went a different direction, targeting each of the men.

  The man with the crossbow was hit first, and dropped the crossbow. Brusus was there in a heartbeat, holding the tip of one of his knives against the man’s throat.

  The other knife struck the man with the sword in the shoulder, and he grunted, before dropping his sword. Rsiran unsheathed the heartstone blade and held it out from him. He had
been training with the sword, but wouldn’t be able to do much to defend them if it came to it. He was better with the knives. At least those he could control.

  The third knife missed, and the man who had been backing away switched directions and reached for Jessa, wrenching her toward him, and away from Rsiran. He held his knife against her throat with a shaky hand and kept Jessa between Rsiran and him so that another knife wouldn’t be a simple attack.

  The nearest man smiled, unmindful of the knife protruding from his shoulder. “Seems we’ve got a bit of a standoff, don’t we? And we’ve got your girl.” He nodded toward the other man who started backing away, pulling Jessa with him.

  Rsiran glanced over at Brusus, who appeared uncertain, his eyes slightly widened. As the man backed down the street with Jessa, his eyes narrowed. “If you think my friend is going to let you leave with her, you’ve made a bigger mistake than you realize.”

  The words came to Rsiran even as he was already pulling on the knife still embedded in the man’s shoulder and Sliding to emerge behind him. With a flicker of power against the knife, Rsiran sent it spiraling into the man’s back. The man staggered and fell, the knife falling harmlessly away from her throat.

  Jessa looked at Rsiran, and he could tell that her neck was unharmed. He Slid again, coming to stand in front of the man with the sword. “You were given a chance to leave,” Rsiran said, anger surging through him.

  The man dropped his gaze to his fallen friend. “You don’t even know what you’ve done, do you?”

  Rsiran shook, feeling the anger in him burning more brightly than it ever had before. “Do you? We would have left you alone.”

  “Your kind never leaves us alone,” the man said.

  “Rsiran…” Brusus started.

  Rsiran waved a hand toward him to silence him. “You think we would have harmed you had you not attacked? Do you think we even cared enough to come after you? But you do that,” he said, waving a hand toward where Jessa backed against the building, “when you simply see one of our kind. How many others have you done that to?”

  Was this the kind of man who had taken Jessa back in Eban? What did he think to do to others from Elaeavn? What would happen if there were Forgotten, or their children, those like Jessa, whose crime was only in living?

  Before thinking about it any more, he sent the knife spinning toward the man. It caught him in the chest, and he dropped to his knees. He coughed once, blood bubbling to his lips, and fell forward.

  What had he done?

  Rsiran took a step back, unable to take his eyes off the man lying on the ground, dead because of the knife sticking out of his chest. The knife Rsiran had put there.

  Brusus released the other man and gave him a kick that sent him running down the street. “Damn, Rsiran. I guess your time with Haern helped.”

  He swallowed and shook his head. How could he have killed a man? They had the situation in hand, and he hadn’t needed to harm him anymore, but there was a deep part of him that had wanted to. In spite of the revulsion, a darkness within him thrilled at what he’d done. Just like Haern had warned him about.

  Jessa took his hand and pulled on his arm until he turned to her. “You know what he would have done had he taken me,” she said softly.

  Was she hiding her own revulsion at what he’d done? Did Jessa look at him in a different way now that he’d killed this man?

  Not only this one, but the other, the one lying on the street, with Rsiran’s knife in his back. That one, at least, he could justify. Had he done nothing, the man would have pulled Jessa away from him. Tried to sell her to slavers. And the Great Watcher only knew what else he intended.

  “We should move,” Brusus said, pushing on them. “That one will go for friends. I’d suggest we not be here when they return.”

  Rsiran nodded numbly, pushing away the sense of lorcith. It receded from him slowly, as if the lorcith wanted him to remember what he’d done. When it was gone, he sensed the sword he held, Jessa’s necklace, and… nothing else.

  The heartstone was gone.

  Rsiran blinked. “It’s gone,” he said.

  “Gone? He can’t simply Slide, Rsiran,” Brusus said.

  He didn’t know if Thom could or couldn’t, but there were others in Venass who could. And they had so much as admitted that they detected it when Rsiran Slid.

  “He’s gone,” Rsiran repeated.

  He’d killed twice, and for what? They hadn’t even had the chance to find Thom and ask him about Venass. Worse, it was likely that Thom knew they were after him.

  Chapter 19

  “We need to keep moving,” Brusus said.

  Rsiran swallowed, looking at the dead men. Had Brusus known what he’d need to do? Was that why he’d pressed him so hard outside the city? He didn’t know that he would have felt as compelled to fight so hard and prove himself had Brusus not mentioned something so recently.

  Unable to think for a minute, Rsiran pulled on his knives, grabbing them from the air. He looked at them in his hands, the blood glinting off the lorcith blades. Had he not needed them, he would have left them there, but instead, he wiped off the blood and returned them to his pockets.

  And now he had killed. Partly because he had needed to, but partly because—if he were honest with himself—he had wanted to.

  “I’ve been to places like this, with men like that,” Brusus went on, motioning to the fallen men, “and if we linger here too long, word is going to spread. We can handle a little rumor, but if it gets out that there’s someone here with your particular abilities”—he tapped Rsiran on the shoulder—“we won’t need to worry about keeping ourselves safe anymore. Venass will think that we’re after them.”

  Rsiran shook away the growing concern he felt about what he’d done. That would be for another time. Like so much else, he needed to push it back and away, ignore it until he had time to spend thinking about it, time that he didn’t have now. Right now, he needed to focus on Thom and determine if he was still within the city, or if he’d gone somewhere else.

  Even within the city, Venass drew his attention. He looked over at the Tower, remembering the helpless fear that had burned through him when they’d been there last. That time, Rsiran hadn’t known if Jessa was safe, or if he would be the reason that something happened to her. Had he not managed to Slide through the lorcith walls… He couldn’t let himself think like that. He had managed to get past the walls. And he had managed to get to Jessa. They were safe.

  “We can go where I sensed him the last time,” Rsiran suggested.

  Brusus’s eyes narrowed as he started down the darkened street. Darkened to Rsiran, at least. To Brusus and Jessa, there would be different layers to the shadows. “Time to move,” he suggested.

  Rsiran heard the sound of boots across stone before he saw anything, and then saw the shifting shadows. He focused on where he had sensed Thom, pulling it into his mind. Carefully, he drew them forward in a Slide, knowing that if they emerged somewhere other than open space, he risked something happening to all of them.

  A man’s shout rang out as they disappeared from the street. He heard a whistling sound, and then they emerged.

  Rsiran readied all the knives he carried with him, preparing to push them if needed as his eyes adjusted.

  “Empty,” Brusus said.

  Rsiran relaxed his hold on his knives and looked around, trying to get a sense of where they might have emerged. The room was lit by soft blue light. Elvraeth light. The glow would enhance the eyesight of someone Sighted, enough where Rsiran even found that it benefited him.

  He had expected it to be a home, or a tavern, or something like that, but they appeared to be inside a room of an inn. A simple bed rested along one wall, and a trunk lay open at the foot of the bed. Brusus hurried to the trunk, but Rsiran doubted that anything would be there.

  Thom had expected them, and was gone.

  “Was he here?” Jessa asked.

  Brusus pulled a few things from within the trun
k. He set them on the floor next to it. Most of what he withdrew were simple items: a length of rope, a dark shimmery shirt that reminded him of the one that Haern wore, a single knife—not lorcith made, he noted, and a small coin sack.

  “He left quickly. He was here, but he’s gone now,” Brusus said.

  Rsiran let out a frustrated breath.

  “You’ll find him again,” Jessa said.

  “Probably,” he agreed, “but I was hoping to have this over with. Find Thom. Then my father. And then Alyse. That’s what I need to do. And the longer she’s gone, the more likely it is that they’ll do something to hurt her. She might not have always been kind, but she’s still my sister.”

  “We’ll find her,” Jessa said.

  Rsiran wasn’t as certain, but he would continue to search. If they didn’t find Thom here, how else would he find her? Where would he look? Not the Forgotten Palace. He didn’t think she was there, but he might have to go back, this time with help.

  “Let me look around a bit more,” Brusus said.

  “There’s nothing here,” Jessa said.

  “Probably not, but maybe there’s something Rsiran can use to figure out where he might have gone.”

  “You don’t think he would have returned to the Tower?” Jessa asked.

  Brusus shrugged. “Still going to look.”

  He peeked under the bed and started reaching for something when he tensed.

  Brusus scrambled back and waved them toward the wall, raising a finger to his lips. “Away from the door.”

  “What is it?” Jessa asked. She spoke so softly that it sounded like little more than a breath of air.

  “Boots on the floor. They’re coming this way,” Brusus said.

  Jessa pulled Rsiran with her, and they leaned against the wall on the far side of the door. Brusus stood on the opposite side, his knives out and ready. Rsiran pushed on a pair of knives, leaving them hovering in the air. Even Jessa pulled the long-bladed knife that he’d forged and held it like a short sword. To her, it served as something like one.

  Voices drifted through the wall. Rsiran leaned his head against the wood and listened.