Blood of the Watcher (The Dark Ability Book 4) (3 page)

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.

R
siran 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 hands, 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.”

“So what can I do?” Rsiran asked.

Haern lifted a knife off the table and flipped it toward him. Rsiran caught it easily from the air. “Seems to me that you’re already doing what you need. If you don’t want to get caught in the middle, you have to learn to master your abilities, whatever they are.” He tipped his head to Rsiran and touched a finger to his nose. “And there’s more to what you can do than what they know. I think that’s part of the reason you intrigue them so much.”

“But, Haern, what can we really do if war comes like you say?”

Haern laughed and started to the door. “Pick a side. That’s all any of us can do.”

He pulled open the door and leaned out, pausing to turn to Rsiran. “We’ll pick up our training again tomorrow. Let this settle down a bit before we go at it. The forest?”

Rsiran sighed, wishing what Haern suggested wasn’t necessary but knowing that he was likely right. “Not the edge of the forest,” he said.

Haern frowned. “Where then?”

“Deeper. Where Lianna was buried.” At least there he didn’t think they’d be discovered.

Haern nodded once, then pulled the door closed as he disappeared down the street.

Rsiran slipped the locks back into place around the door, knowing they did nothing to stop Jessa, but then he had no reason to obstruct her access. As he made his way to the forge, he wondered how he could do what Haern suggested. How could he pick a side if he didn’t know what each side wanted? And how could he choose when each side had done nothing but try to use him?