After a while, she sat forward. “Why was Brusus attacked?”
Rsiran sighed, regretting that the moment had passed. “We were outside the warehouse when the sellsword approached. Brusus tried to talk his way past, but the man seemed to know we had been in the warehouse. Brusus tried to get past him…”
“Had he watched you in the warehouse?” Jessa asked.
Rsiran shook his head. “I don’t know. He came out of the shadows after we left. He wanted to report Brusus, probably to the constables.”
“They would not. Neelish sellswords are privately hired. Most that patrol the warehouses there are hired by the Elvraeth. Some have contracts with the local merchants.”
Rsiran remembered the attack vividly. Now that he considered what happened, it was nothing like he would have expected from the constables. Constables were tasked with policing and reporting. The sellsword had seemed more interested in simply eliminating Brusus.
“Brusus said he was hired for a job.”
Jessa nodded. “One of the Elvraeth hired him. Used the warehouse to draw Brusus in. Made a big show of being offended by everything there.”
“You were there?”
She smiled ruefully. “I wasn’t supposed to be. I trailed Brusus when he left to meet with him. Thought I could tag along behind him without him noticing…”
“But he did.”
If Brusus had Elvraeth blood, his abilities would allow him to detect Jessa easily. Whatever allowed him to Push thoughts onto others would likely let him Read them as easily. But if that was the case, how had Brusus not known he could Slide? Or had he always known?
Jessa laughed. “He did. Always seems to know. Might not have strong abilities, but he’s crafty.”
Rsiran stiffened briefly, suddenly realizing that despite his earlier assumption, Jessa didn’t know about Brusus. How many of them did? He couldn’t be the only one aside from Della, could he?
“What happens if Brusus doesn’t complete the job?” he asked, needing to know if he should begin forging more lorcith for Brusus. It was the only thing Rsiran could do to help.
“I don’t know. You know he’s already plenty in debt. That’s why he wants the knives. And with the Elvraeth, I think he figures lorcith might tempt him. As to what he was to do? I’m not sure what was expected of him.”
Rsiran glanced over at the sack of lorcith. How much time did Brusus have?
“Did he show you the crates? The one with the strange cylinders?” Jessa asked.
“He did. I don’t know what kind of metal they are made from. I think Brusus was hoping I would.”
Her face fell. “At least one is of gold. He refuses to sell it. Wants to know what they make first. He thinks they form some type of device.”
“I don’t know what could be made from the cylinders themselves.”
“They’re not all cylinders.” Jessa said it hesitantly. “I’m not sure even Brusus knows, but I snuck into the warehouse a few times without him and went through those boxes. The ones to the front are all cylinders. Toward the back they are different. Not even sure what to make of those.”
What had he gotten himself into? What was Brusus working on that they didn’t know about? The longer he sat next to Jessa, the more his energy returned. The overwhelming sense of fatigue and the need to sit and try to sleep was fading. Even the nausea, the thick bile taste at the back of his throat, was fading. His throat was still dry and he could use a drink, but he didn’t think he would fall over if he stood.
Reluctantly, he stood, separating himself from Jessa.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He pointed to the brown burlap sack crumpled on the ground. Lifting it, he was suddenly very aware of how heavy the sack was. How had the boy carried it silently through the mines? How many nights had he spent mining what Rsiran now held? How had Rsiran managed to Slide while carrying this much lorcith, especially as weakened as he had been near the end?
He carried it over to Jessa and dropped it on the floor between them. “I took this from the boy who attacked me.”
“A boy attacked you?” She didn’t even try to hide the laugh hidden in the question.
“He was Sighted, and it’s dark in the mines!”
Jessa shook her head. “I didn’t think the council sentenced anyone younger than sixteen to serve in the mines.”
Della had said something like that as well. “He couldn’t have been any older than twelve.”
“Maybe he only looked young.”
“Maybe,” he agreed, opening the sack.
Inside, as he had hoped, were lumps of lorcith. He took them out one at a time, holding each carefully before setting it aside. Jessa’s eyes widened after he had taken out a dozen. There were still probably two-dozen more in the sack.
“You can forge all of this?”
He shrugged. “Not tonight, but give me a few nights, and I can make some progress.” As long as the lorcith didn’t resist him, he figured he could probably make three or four knives each night. Whether that was what the lorcith wanted to guide him to make was another matter.
Jessa punched him on the shoulder. “How much did Brusus get for the knife you made?”
“Two talens.”
Jessa’s mouth twitched as she did the math in her head. A smile spread across her lips. “Too bad you don’t have anything bigger. Didn’t he say a longer blade would fetch more? Maybe you could try dagger length next.”
Speaking so easily about Sliding and his forging felt freeing to him. Jessa hadn’t been surprised or alarmed by his abilities, only curious. Her simple acceptance meant so much to him that he decided to trust her with everything.
“Here,” he started, and hurried over to where he had hidden the blade he forged last night and looked behind the bellows. He would show Jessa what he made, and together they would work to find a way to sell it so that they could help Brusus.
Only the blade was gone.
In spite of his fatigue, his mind was suddenly alert and a cold sweat burst over his flesh. He had been careful to hide the sword, not wanting anyone else to find it before he was ready to reveal his newest creation. Partly, he hadn’t been convinced that he even wanted to sell the blade.
“Was anyone else here before you?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. After hearing about Brusus, I came after dark to look for you. When you weren’t here but the lanterns were lit, I waited for you to return. Why? Is something wrong?”
“Was the door locked?”
“I had to sneak my way past it, if that’s what you’re asking,” Jessa said defensively.
The blade had been here when he left with Brusus. Rsiran wished he would have checked to see if it was still there before Sliding to the mine but had not. He had been so focused on what he had to do, on what had happened to Brusus.
With another surge of panic, Rsiran checked the other side of the forge. The large lump of lorcith was still hidden among the debris. He turned back to Jessa. “It’s missing.”
Jessa stood and came over to him. “What’s missing? Something you need to get the forge working?”
He swallowed and shook his head. Had he been wrong to trust Brusus? Had he been wrong about Jessa?
“I Slid to Ilphaesn last night.”
Jessa visibly tensed.
“I decided to see if I could manage what I promised Brusus and mine the lorcith in the dark. I returned with a large lump, nearly as big as I’d ever seen. And then I decided to try and forge it.”
“What did you make?”
“A sword.”
She caught her breath. Most knew the penalties for possessing a sword. Only the constables were allowed anything longer than forearm length. The steel blade Brusus carried would get him hauled before the council. A lorcith blade?
“Was that a good idea?”
Rsiran shook his head. At the time, he hadn’t really had much to say about what he created. The lorcith guided his forging. That was one secret he didn�
�t share with Jessa. “Brusus thought a longer blade would be more valuable. I wanted to help, so I…”
He kicked along the ground where the blade had been. The lower beam of the bellows had been pushed away from the wall, leaving enough space for the blade to hide, but now that space hid nothing but dust.
“There are other ways of helping that don’t put you in danger,” Jessa said.
“Like sneaking into warehouses?”
She stared at him. “I could only get in trouble if I get caught. And I’m an excellent sneak.”
“Who else knows about this place?” Other than Jessa and Brusus, he could only think of Shael. “Would Shael break in to take it?”
Jessa shook her head. “Shael has an agreement with Brusus. He might be a thief, but he’s an honorable one. He would never take from Brusus.”
“What if Brusus hadn’t paid him?”
Jessa breathed out slowly. “Then he might come looking for something of value,” she said. “We all have different debts, Rsiran.” She took a step back, widening her stance defensively. “Don’t look at me like that. Even I have debts. You live in Lower Town long enough, and you acquire debt, but you also earn favors. That’s how life works. Almost better than real currency most of the time.”
“Anyone else who might know of this place?”
She shook her head. “Firell and Haern know of it, but neither knows where it is. And Firell has been out with his ship since we last saw him. Haern… well Haern has a funny way of looking at things, but I couldn’t see him trying to break into the smithy. He and Brusus have known each other too long for that.”
“He hasn’t known me that long.”
Jessa frowned at him. “You have to trust some of us, Rsiran. Otherwise you’re going to live your life jumping around, looking for harm that isn’t there.”
He sighed. Part of him wanted to see it complete, wanted to see the hilt attached and see what the sword looked like when whole. But he knew what a sword like that meant if he were caught.
Rsiran looked at the burlap bag containing the lorcith. “I have to start again. Brusus needs me.”
“But not tonight.”
Rsiran looked at the sack of unforged lorcith. How long would it take him to work through all of it? Working at a pace like last night, letting the lorcith guide him, he doubted it would be much more than a week. And then what? Return to the mine? Find the boy and take what he collected again? How long would he keep forging the blades for Brusus?
He wanted to help, but maybe there was another way. Stepping around the forge, he rested a hand on the smooth cold anvil and closed his eyes. But all he knew was hammering metal, and Brusus had seemed so eager when suggesting they could sell his knives. Considering what Brusus had done, could he back out now?
“Leave it for tonight.” Jessa took his hand in hers and lead him away from the forge. “You look tired. Besides, we need to check on Brusus.”
Rsiran sighed. He was tired but didn’t think visiting Brusus would change that. It would only lead to more questions.
Chapter 27
They left the smithy after Rsiran had hidden the lumps of lorcith, mixing them into the bin of coals. Though the other lump of lorcith had not been disturbed, he didn’t want to risk losing the rest, not until he knew what had happened to the blade. He held out hope there was an innocent answer.
Jessa led him out into the street. He locked the door carefully behind him and pocketed the key. She smiled at him and shook her head. Clearly, keys weren’t necessary for everyone. She started off with a confident stride, moving quickly along the dark street.
The night was dark, clouds hung over the moon, and no stars shone overhead. It was almost as if they were hidden from the Great Watcher himself. The street running in front of the smith smelled foul, the mixture of sewage and rot filling his nose forcing him to breathe through his mouth. Even then, he could still taste it. He was thankful that Jessa hurried.
She never let go of his hand as she led him down the street. When they reached the end and lanterns suddenly lit their way, Rsiran smiled as Jessa still didn’t release her grip. Her fingers felt small and warm inside his, but there was strength in the way she held him.
“I could probably Slide us there,” he suggested after they had been walking for a while.
She pulled him onto a side street, one he was unfamiliar with, and she slipped quickly along, light from the lanterns of the main thoroughfare fading behind them. “And miss the night?” she asked. “Besides, I have something I want to do along the way.”
Rsiran realized they were moving down toward the water, sinking deeper into Lower Town. The path Jessa took was unfamiliar, but he recognized the sound of the waves growing louder, he recognized the salt spray that mixed in the air, and he could feel the ground sloping beneath his boots.
They passed small buildings tucked against each other. Few were painted; most simply left the beige stone alone, their slightly pitched roofs likely looking the same. The effect was to blend from a distance, to make the city disappear into the cliff face, so Elaeavn could disappear when seen from afar. Only, Rsiran knew, the effect didn’t work when viewed from above. How many of those ancient planners had mined Ilphaesn? How many had stood atop Krali Rock?
“Where are we going?”
Jessa raised a finger to her lips as they stepped around the next corner. Rsiran suddenly recognized where they were and the long squat buildings stretching out alongside the street. He had been along a street exactly like this only hours before, had watched Brusus nearly die on a similar one. And now Jessa brought him back?
She stopped along one of the long low buildings. Was this the same warehouse or different than the one he had visited earlier? The door was different—taller, made of faded wood—either elm or sjihn harvested from the Aisl long ago, and he did not need to duck under the sloping roof overhead.
Jessa stepped up to the door and unrolled a pack, looking like Brusus had done earlier. Choosing a slender rod, she worked it in the lock. In much less time than it had taken Brusus, the lock clicked and she pushed the door open.
Then she disappeared into the darkness.
Rsiran glanced up the street. Had he heard the sound of boots along the cobbles or was it simply his imagination? They should not be here. Not after what happened earlier. He didn’t have the strength needed to get them both away if another sellsword found them.
The wind gusted, blowing between the buildings as if trying to sweep him away.
He shivered, stepped through the door, and pulled it closed.
Jessa grabbed his arm and tugged him forward. He dragged his feet along the ground as quietly as possible, trying to remain silent but afraid of taking a misstep and falling. If he had Jessa’s Sight, he would move as confidently as she did. As in the mines, his ability felt useless.
“Why are we here?”
He felt Jessa turn but couldn’t see her. With the door closed, the warehouse was nearly as dark as the mines had been. Worse—at least he knew the mines, could find his way by feel. And there was always the strange sensation of the lorcith that guided him.
“For Brusus.” They took another few steps and then Jessa pulled on his arm, guiding him to the left. “You really are like a babe in the dark, aren’t you?”
Had he been able to see her, he might have jerked away. “At least I don’t need to pick locks to get inside.”
She snorted a soft laugh. “You saw how much that slowed me.” She dragged him a few more steps and then pulled him to the right. “Besides, you’re too tired. Otherwise I might have tried letting you use that ability of yours with me.” She pressed against him. “I admit I’m curious what it feels like to Slide.”
“Not much different from walking. You take a step and you go from one place to the next. Only thing you notice is the sound of wind rushing through your ears.” The first time he Slid a long distance, the sensation of the blast of wind and noise had surprised him. Now he rarely noticed it.
&
nbsp; “I’d still like to try it.”
Rsiran felt her push against him again and smiled. He wondered what she would think of Sliding to the top of Krali Rock or to the heart of the Aisl Forest. Would she be scared as he had been the first time? Considering Jessa, he doubted it.
He squeezed her hand. “What can we do for Brusus here?”
She pulled away from him. As he followed her, he was forced to push between two rough wooden crates pressing on both sides. Then he understood where she took him; what she intended.
“We don’t know how long until he wakes. I don’t know how long the Elvraeth that hired him gave for the job, but Brusus seemed more irritable than usual lately, so I suspect that he was expected to finish it soon. Might be why he wanted you to get working on the knives,” she said, glancing back at him. She stopped and patted one of the crates. “This crate must have something to do with what the Elvraeth asked of him.”
Rsiran could see nothing in the darkness. “This is the crate with the strange cylinders?”
“It is.”
She let go of his hand and shuffled around in the darkness. Of course, to her there was no darkness. There was a soft click, and he realized she had picked the lock of one of the boxes.
“What do you think they do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe try to assemble this. See what was sent to the Elvraeth.”
“You will not find assembly easy.”
Rsiran jumped at the strange voice. Had he known where Jessa was standing, he would have grabbed her hand and tried to Slide. She kicked something as she stood, but he could not feel where she was. Without her, he stood frozen in place. Fear coursed through him.
His imagination provided more details than he wanted. In his mind, a slender sword sliced through the air before it plunged into his chest. He saw Jessa, bleeding, with him unable to do anything, weakness stealing his ability to Slide.
His heart hammered.
The Dark Ability: Books 1-4 Page 21