The Dark Ability (21 page)

“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.

T
hey 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.

“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.

“Josun?” Jessa said.

“Brusus’s girl,” the other said. “And quite strongly Sighted. Even here you see well. And your friend?”

“Can see nothing,” Jessa said.

From the sound of her voice, Rsiran knew roughly where she stood. He considered jumping for her, grabbing her hand, and Sliding. The fear that raced through him would give enough strength to make the Slide. The only thing that held him back was the casual way Jessa spoke, as if she recognized this man.

“Can’t have that now.” A pale blue light flickered on. It glowed steadily, nothing like the flickering oil lamps, and reminded Rsiran of the orange lantern from the sleeping quarters in Ilphaesn.

A tall man, eyes a deep green and hair the deep silvery color of lorcith, stood before him. He wore a long, heavily embroidered cloak over a blue shirt that seemed woven of a fabric Rsiran had never seen. Deeply tanned leather boots reflected some of the blue lantern light. A slender blade hung at his side. With a jolt, Rsiran realized he could
feel
something from the sword and knew it was lorcith made.

He was looking at one of the Elvraeth.

Rsiran had only caught glimpses of the Elvraeth before. The rare times his father had been commissioned to do work for them, it had always been ordered and arranged through their servants, never by the Elvraeth themselves.

This must be who had hired Brusus.

“Done staring, young man?” the Elvraeth asked.

“My Lord,” Rsiran answered.

With a flash of teeth, the Elvraeth smiled. “Not lord. None of us are lords, young man. Your friend here, at least, has the right of it.” He glanced at Jessa. “I am Josun T’so Elvraeth. Here, in this place,” he said, sweeping his hands around the shadowed warehouse, “I am Josun.”

He waited, watching Rsiran for a few moments. The smile on his face didn’t change. Rsiran had the distinct sense of something crawling in his mind, like spiders along his skin, as the Elvraeth tried to Read him. With a sudden effort, he pressed the barriers in his mind more firmly into place. Around Brusus and the others, he had been careful to leave them up, never knowing who was a Reader. With the Elvraeth, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to avoid being Read.

“Here is where you tell me your name.”

Rsiran let out a soft breath. “Rsiran Lareth,” he answered slowly.

Josun tipped his head. The sense of crawling along Rsiran’s mind intensified for a moment before fading. Were the Elvraeth truly more gifted Readers? Could he climb over the barriers he built in his mind? And if he had, would he know that Rsiran could Slide? Would he care?

“There is a Lareth who is a smith,” the Elvraeth commented.

Rsiran nodded, wondering how he would know. “He is my father.”

“Are you not apprenticed to him? Such is the custom, is it not?”

Rsiran knew he would not be able to fool the Elvraeth. “Once,” he admitted.

“But no longer.”

He shook his head. “We had a disagreement about the direction of my training.”

The Elvraeth’s smile widened. “Must have been quite the disagreement. From what I understand, apprenticeships within the smith guild are quite difficult to acquire. While it is a shame you gave yours up, I am sure Brusus has found you useful.”

“Why is that?” Rsiran struggled to keep up with the speed of this man’s thoughts.

“There are many uses for smiths, young Rsiran. Especially one with master smith bloodlines.”

The comment hardened the blood in his veins like steel tempered by water. Did the Elvraeth know he could hear lorcith? His gaze pulled toward the slender blade Josun wore, feeling the strange sensation of being aware of where it was, almost as if he were back in the mines and the lorcith guiding his steps.

With his ability to Read, how much did the Elvraeth already know about him?

“Why are you here, Josun?” Jessa asked.

Rsiran was thankful for the change in topic and had wondered the same thing. Brusus had not hidden the fact that one of the Elvraeth had hired him, but why would he be here tonight? Why at the same time they were?

The Elvraeth turned to Jessa. Deep green eyes flared. “I could ask the same of you.” His tone hardened and the smile on his face faded.

Rsiran found his heart racing again, fear slicking his palms.

“You hired Brusus,” Jessa answered with a shrug. “We’re here for him.”

The Elvraeth took a slight step forward. The pale blue light seemed to blink. Even his movement seemed graceful, as if he simply flickered forward from one place to the next. “I hired Brusus.”

“If you don’t want the job completed, we’ll leave,” Jessa suggested.

The Elvraeth sniffed and a wolfish smile returned. “I did not say you could leave.”

Rsiran looked over at Jessa. For the first time since he had met her, a worried look spread across her face. She tried to hide it, but her eyes tightened and the muscles under her cheek tensed.

The Elvraeth saw the same things as Rsiran. “You can relax, young sneak. I will not be reporting to the constables, or I would have to explain my presence here as well.” He shook his head. “No… I think you can both be as useful as Brusus.”

Rsiran realized Jessa had been taking small steps toward him, and he made an effort to move closer toward her as well. His mouth was dry, and he stank of sweat. The initial surge of fear he had felt at seeing the Elvraeth had faded, and now fatigue threatened to knock him down again. He didn’t know if he would be able to Slide them from the warehouse if needed. But for Jessa, he would try.

“How?” she asked. “We don’t even know what you hired Brusus for.”

The Elvraeth’s smile widened. “I only asked Brusus to perform a simple demonstration.”

Jessa’s eyes narrowed.

“Yes—a demonstration. The rest of this,” he said, nodding toward the warehouse, “was my demonstration to him. What he chose to do with that knowledge is up to him and had very little to do with what you see around you.”

“None of this matters to you?” Rsiran’s tongue was finally unstuck with surprise.

The Elvraeth turned and looked at him. “Matters? Of course it matters. Did Brusus not tell you
why
I requested the demonstration? Why I have grown tired of the waste I see every day within the palace? Can you not see it for yourself?”

“I know what Brusus told me,” Rsiran said cautiously, careful to not reveal too much to the Elvraeth.

Josun only laughed. It was a bitter sound. “What did Brusus tell you? Did he tell you that that for centuries, my family has received gifts? That for centuries, these gifts lay unclaimed? No one has ever bothered to even open most of these crates. For some reason, doing so violates the order of the council.”

Rsiran nodded, suddenly fearing the heat in the Elvraeth’s words. “He showed me one of the crates he opened.”

The Elvraeth took a step toward the crate. There was something odd about the way he moved that Rsiran could not quite place. He tipped the lantern toward the box Jessa had opened and picked up one of the strange metal cylinders.

“Ah… this.” He tilted the cylinder. “From a nation that no longer even exists.” His eyes scanned the faded harsh lettering. “A gift that none ever understood, let alone bothered to try and assemble, the letter that accompanied long since destroyed. There is much that can be learned from other cultures, but the
council
disagrees.” He spat the last few words. One of his hands ran along the strangely layered wood as he spoke. “And you think Brusus intends to assemble what lies within this crate.” His mouth turned in a tight smile. “Such was possible once. Now… now this is no more than a curiosity left to lie dormant and die like the people who made it.”