The Guild Secret (The Dark Ability Book 6) (8 page)

“I will,” Rsiran promised.

The smile on Seval’s wide face made the deception harder.

R
siran stood alone
in his smithy, the coal cooling and the line of newly forged heartstone and lorcith knives lying on his bench. Rsiran had used most of the lorcith that he’d collected when last in Ilphaesn to make the knives, almost as if the lorcith recognized that he was not yet done fighting.

Unlike when he normally worked the forge, his mind continued to race, filled with fears and worries. He had to know about Venass, and more about what they did with shadowsteel.

So far, he had failed to learn anything that would help him locate where they made it. What he’d discovered in the Forgotten Palace hadn’t been enough to help him understand what Venass might plan with it, or even how they made it.

There was one place he thought he could go for answers, but until now, he had avoided it.

Rsiran sat on the pallet he and Jessa used as a bed, and crossed his legs. Did he dare risk Traveling to find out what Venass might be hiding? He didn’t
think
they could trap him when Traveling, but what if they had discovered some way to do so?

He had to confirm they had some sort of shadowsteel forge and where it was, even if only to confront Ephram with the information so he would share more about it.

Rsiran glanced at the door. Though he often left it open these days, the locks were in place. Jessa would be able to sneak in—the locks on his smithy had never prevented her access—but no one else should be able to reach him.

He closed his eyes and focused on what he remembered of Venass.

Months had passed since he had been there, but that memory remained etched deep in his mind. He remembered the way the inside of the tower appeared, much as he remembered the way it smelled.

Taking a breath, he Traveled.

Rsiran stepped free of his body and appeared inside of Venass.

A slight pressure worked against him as he did, likely from whatever protections existed around the tower to prevent someone from Sliding into it. When he’d gone the first time, he had been
pulled
in a Slide. He liked to think that he was skilled enough now that they wouldn’t be able to do the same to him, but he didn’t really know, and wouldn’t dare risk it. At least with Traveling, there was no real threat to his person.

He appeared inside the massive entry hall. Faint light came from everywhere, and it took a moment to realize that it was lorcith in the walls. He had detected it in massive amounts when he had been here before, and that lorcith had almost managed to prevent him from Sliding, but it was during that visit that he had discovered he could
pull
himself into a Slide.

Rsiran floated, moving from room to room on the main level. He saw no sign of any Venass. Before, he had thought them scholars. Likely they
were
scholars of a sort, only what they studied was a way to wield power and destruction.

He drifted down and found the room where he’d managed to reach Jessa. The tile still seemed cold and lifeless, and the hearth looked as if it had never carried the warmth of a fire. Nothing about the room seemed as if it was lived in.

Moving on, Rsiran drifted. He came upon a row of massive doors of lorcith. On the other side of these doors were cells. This was where he’d been held. Traveling in this way, he went in and then back out of each cell, searching for his father or anyone else that Venass might hold, but found each of the rooms empty.

From there, he went back up, looking through the tower. Strange that he should find no one here, but equally strange that he found nothing that would help him understand what Venass might have been working on. When he had been here before, there had been evidence of the cylinders, as well as the scholars, but where had they gone?

The tower appeared empty.

He approached stairs that wound along the outer wall, leading to a landing. A hall opened up and he searched, finding no sign of anyone. Not his father or smiths who might be responsible for shadowsteel, not any of the Hjan, and no scholars. There was nothing here.

Where were they?

Unless… Could they present some sort of mirage to him? Did Venass plan for the possibility that he might Travel to the tower, and shield themselves from him?

They might shield the people, but could they shield the entire tower?

Doubtful.

Continuing upward, he found more rooms, all of them seemingly empty. He worked his way up and up, and there was nothing. The farther he went, the less likely it seemed he would find anything, almost as if Venass had abandoned the tower.

Then he reached what had to be the top. He drifted through another door, and this time, he felt a strange sensation, something almost like a warmth washed over him. When Traveling, he shouldn’t be aware of any physical sensations. That he could made him worry about what Venass might have for him here.

Atop the tower, he came across three slender black bars that seemed to pull on the light, bending it in strange ways. Rsiran moved toward them, but was careful not to touch them, not certain that he could, but also not wanting to risk it, especially if it was shadowsteel.

He hesitated, feeling the strange tingling warmth, and realized that there was something more that he’d missed. The shadowsteel started to move, spinning around him.

The movement answered the question of whether anyone remained in the tower.

Did Venass know he was here?

He didn’t dare risk staying, but when he tried to return to his body, he was held in place.

Rsiran tried again, his heart racing, and still couldn’t.

With the next try, he
pulled,
dragging himself back. He moved slowly, easing away, reminding him of when he had first Slid through heartstone.

Then he was back in his body.

He sat up, exhausted. And terrified.

Venass had a way of holding him when he Traveled, but somehow he had still managed to escape. Worse, he found no evidence of his father, and no sign of how they made shadowsteel. They made it seem like the tower was abandoned, but he didn’t think it really was. Likely, if he attempted to return, they would find a way to trap him.

Doubting there was any shadowsteel forge in Venass, where would he search next? And how would he stop Venass if they continued to find new ways to attack? He needed help, and he didn’t know where to go for it. Worse, Firell and Shael proved that the Forgotten hadn’t completely disappeared as a threat. The guilds couldn’t overcome the entirety of the Venass threat, but what more could he do? Each time they’d attacked, he had come away realizing there was even more he didn’t understand.

Rsiran tried resting, but sleep didn’t come easily for him that night.

T
he inside
of the Wretched Barth glowed brightly with lanterns and the fire in the hearth at the back. The lighting was much brighter than when Lianna had run the Barth, but Rsiran suspected much of that had to do with Brusus wanting to push away the memories of what had happened here. Men had died in the tavern, men that Rsiran and Haern had killed.

Brusus moved between tables, stopping long enough to speak to the patrons before moving on to the next table. He glanced up at the sound of the door opening and nodded briefly to Rsiran as he continued making his way through the tavern.

Jessa sat at their usual table, sending dice skittering across the surface before scooping them up and shaking them again. Haern sat next to her, two knives spinning in his hands, the scar along his face twitching as his gaze continued to survey the tavern. After everything, Haern wasn’t able to relax. Neither was Rsiran, especially after the mistake he’d almost made. He still hadn’t fully recovered, and tried to hide it as best he could.

He wasn’t the only one bothered by something he didn’t want to speak about. Haern still hadn’t shared what had bothered him when they’d last sparred.

Rsiran dropped onto the stool and grabbed the dice from Jessa, shaking them before dropping them on the table. A pair of threes. Beggars. Fitting that he’d throw them.

Jessa leaned in and gave him a quick kiss before grabbing the dice. “Where have you been? Luca said you left with Seval.”

“He took me to my father’s smithy,” Rsiran said. “Said the guild wants me to be closer to the other smiths.” He didn’t share that he had Traveled to Venass. That would only anger her. Now that he knew Venass could trap him—or likely would be able to soon—he didn’t dare Travel, did he?

Another ability of his countered, most likely by the power of shadowsteel. Soon he would have no way to defeat them.

Haern nodded. “Makes sense. Keep you closer so they can keep an eye on you now that you’re sanctioned.”

“You’re going to take Father’s smithy?”

With his back to the kitchen, he hadn’t noticed Alyse coming up behind him. She carried a tray laden with plates for them. A sheen of sweat covered her face, and she wore a finely woven dress today, one of much higher quality than she’d worn since moving to Lower Town. In some ways, Alyse always seemed to belong anywhere but in Lower Town.

“The guild wants me to take over the family smithy,” Rsiran said.

Alyse set plates in front of each of them, followed by mugs of steaming ale. “You’ve been recognized and sanctioned. It’s time you have a proper smithy.”

“I have a proper smithy,” Rsiran said.

Alyse’s nose crinkled. “Brusus has told me all about your smithy, Rsiran,” she said, her gaze drifting to where Brusus approached. The corners of her mouth pulled into a hint of a smile. “And the smithy should be yours. It’s the Lareth smithy.”

Rsiran forced a smile and nodded. His sister couldn’t understand what he’d been through. She had been through her share of issues since leaving their childhood home when their father lost his business, but she still felt a sense of connection to what she’d lost. In that way, Rsiran had moved on more than his sister.

“It is,” he agreed.

“So when will you be making the move?” Alyse asked.

Brusus glanced to Rsiran and seemed to see the anguish on his face. “Alyse, there’s a man near the back who would like to compliment the cook. I tried to take the credit…”

She took a sharp breath. “You wouldn’t!”

Brusus met her eyes, and a warm smile spread across her face. “They know that I can mix up a tasty stew with the best of them. And the bread I bake—”

“Is not fit to be served,” Alyse finished. She grabbed Brusus and pulled him to the back of the tavern. Brusus gave Rsiran a pointed expression over his shoulder, one that promised they would be speaking more later.

“You didn’t agree, did you?” Jessa asked.

“There’s a reason for me to do so,” he started.

“Such as serving as guildlord,” Haern said. When Rsiran frowned at him, Haern only shrugged. “You’ve not really tried to hide it, and with all the master smiths coming to see you, there was really only one explanation. Makes sense that they’d choose you. And that they’d want you closer.”

Rsiran studied Haern for a moment. “There’s nothing that you’ve Seen?”

“That would tell me that you shouldn’t do this?” Haern shook his head. “Nothing there, Rsiran. Wish I could help you, but I think you’re on your own. Besides, I think it’s helpful to have you closer to the rest of the guilds as we try to find Venass. The attack on the forest was only a first step. Now that they’ve taken it… we’ve got to be ready. They’re weakened, but that makes them more dangerous.”

“That’s what you said before.”

“And I meant it,” Haern said. “With your position, you need to get access to the council.”

“They want me to meet with them. I’m not willing to go as quietly as the rest of the guilds.”

“I suspect the council knows that.”

Jessa frowned. “How would they?”

“Think about what we know of the guilds. They serve the city and protect the crystals. And the council knows that they do. Likely, they know what Rsiran has done, as much as he wants to deflect the credit. You get access to the council, and you can find out what the Elvraeth are willing to do.”

Rsiran was still perplexed by the Elvraeth’s lack of action, both during and after the last attack. He had assumed they would want to do something, but now wasn’t sure if they’d even noticed. The Elvraeth rarely left the Floating Palace, sending servants down into the city. They might not know or even care about anything that happened outside the walls of their palace.

The door to the tavern opened and a single person entered.

Haern leapt to his feet, his knives stuffed into his pockets and his face turning a bright shade of red.

“What is it, Haern?” Jessa asked.

A woman entered, but as she turned, Rsiran noted that she had no green to her eyes. Rather, they were a flat grey, and hard. She surveyed the tavern before turning to face Haern, as if she had expected to find him there the entire time.

“Haern?” Jessa said again.

“I didn’t think she still lived,” he said softly.

“Who is it?”

“A woman from my past,” he answered as the woman approached.

She had a fluid way of moving, and Rsiran caught the glimmer of steel beneath the thick black cloak she wore. She stopped at the table, a step or so away from Haern. Rsiran noted the scent of a bitter spice from her, something that reminded him of scents in Della’s home.

“The rumors are true,” she said. “You still live.”

“I could say the same to you,” Haern replied.

The woman had a wolfish smile, one that showed a flash of teeth and then was gone. “Is that what they say?”

“The Hjan said the accords were no more. I assumed—”

“You assumed that I can’t withstand the Hjan? Haern, I think you underestimate me.”

“I doubt anyone has ever underestimated you, Carth.”

“No? Yet you allow me to freely enter your tavern and get close enough to—”

She reached for her sword. Rsiran didn’t wait for her to finish, unwilling to allow anything to happen to Haern.

He Slid, grabbing Haern and jerking him away, before dancing back a few steps and emerging. The woman spun to him, as if expecting to find him where he emerged. She studied Rsiran, her eyes narrowed in a dangerous way. “You have friends.”

“I’m not in the Hjan anymore, Carth,” Haern said. His voice shook. Rsiran had never heard him afraid before, and it rattled him.

“Not anymore, but you still must pay for what you’ve done.”

“I’ve paid for my crimes,” he said. “More than you can know.”

She darted forward, moving with speed that reminded Rsiran of Venass assassins. Streamers of something that he almost imagined were shadows moved with her before fading as he Slid Haern with him to the side. When he emerged, the woman was there, ready to attack.

She was fast, and anticipated his Sliding. Could she somehow See him?

He had to consider the possibility that she could.

If so, then he had to try a different tact.

Jessa watched him, eyes narrowed. “Don’t,” he saw her whisper.

He flashed a reassuring grin, but doubted she saw it the same way.

Releasing Haern, he Slid to the woman. As before, she seemed to have anticipated it, but all he needed was to grab onto her. She stabbed at him with her sword, and he grabbed her arm, yanking her with him in a Slide.

He emerged far outside the city, standing on a wide grassy plain.

She seemed unfazed that she’d somehow left a tavern and suddenly appeared far outside the city, and swung her sword in a quick arc. Rsiran Slid back a dozen steps, far enough away that she couldn’t reach him easily.

“What do you want with Haern?”

“He owes penance for what he’s done. I’ve come to collect.”

“You’ll have to come through me first.”

She cocked her head to the side. For a moment, Rsiran thought he saw a smile play across her lips, as if she had expected his presence, but then it faded. “Do you think that you’re the first man I’ve faced with such an ability? I thought that Haern had abandoned the Hjan, and you don’t strike me as quite the same as them, but you have many of the same abilities.”

“I have nothing to do with Venass,” he spat.

“Nothing. I think that you have more in common than you let on.” She started forward, and he Slid back another dozen steps, emerging with a pair of knives hovering in front of him. “Interesting ability. Another the Hjan possess.”

“Leave Haern alone or—”

“Or you’ll what? Do you think you can kill Carth of C’than when none other ever has?”

Rsiran shook his head. She’d thrown her name out there as if to impress him.

Not impress, he decided. Intimidate. There was more to this woman than he knew, and the way she managed to avoid his attack told him there was reason to fear her.

“I don’t know who you are. And I don’t care. But I
do
care about my friends. And Haern is my friend.”

The woman slipped her sword back into her sheath. “You can’t protect him everywhere. Even now, my network closes in around him. He will have the punishment he deserves.”

Rsiran thought she might say something more, but she didn’t.

Rather than risking another attack, he Slid back to the city and back into the Barth.