The Heartstone Blade (The Dark Ability Book 2) (5 page)

“Can you see anything?” he whispered.

Jessa jerked her head around before shaking it. “Nothing.”

She grabbed his hand and then threw the cover back over the lantern, plunging him into darkness that she didn’t share. Her Sight created an advantage. Unless the other with them in the darkness was also Sighted. Which, given the fact that they were here at night, Rsiran thought likely.

He let his senses feel for lorcith. Somewhere in the darkness, he felt the sense of another knife and recognized it as his. Whoever was here had acquired his forgings. As far as he knew, Brusus had moved everything out of the city. Either he hadn’t… or they had made their way back.

He sensed the knife move a few steps. Something about the way it moved felt odd. Rsiran didn’t have time to contemplate for very long. He felt the knife come flying toward him.

Definitely Sighted then.

With a push, he slowed the knife as it neared and grabbed it out of the air.

Not daring to linger any longer, he pulled the other knife out of the crate and caught it as well. Then he Slid them away from the warehouse.

R
siran emerged in his smithy
, his body shaking. He clutched the strange lantern in one hand, Jessa in the other. A sheet of thick grey fabric covered the lantern, looking very much like the clothes he had been forced to wear while in the mines.

He pushed the lantern away from him so that it rested on the ground near the table. He would examine how it was made later, when he had more time. With enough study, he hoped that he might be able to recreate the lantern. Now that would be useful, and something he would not fear having his mark attached to.

He knelt down and let the knives drop to the wooden floor. They spun for a moment, his mark on them clear. Neither looked like recent forgings, lately the knives had taken on a smoother hilt than these, but they were both definitely his work.

“Did you see who was there?” he asked as he studied the knives.

She lay back and sprawled across the floor. Rsiran lay next to her, propping his head up on his elbow as he looked down at her.

“I didn’t see anything. Didn’t hear anything. Had you not been there, I don’t think I would have made it out.”

Jessa took great pride in her ability as a sneak. That she hadn’t noticed someone else in the warehouse with them bothered Rsiran. “It was the lorcith. I sensed it moving.”

“Not a sellsword.”

He shook his head. The sellswords were skilled with the blade, but none had gifts like those given to their people by the Great Watcher. None were Sighted.

“These are my knives, Jessa.” Knowing that, and knowing that Josun had been interested in his sword, frightened him.

“Are you sure?”

He handed her one of them. Only his forgings responded to him pushing and pulling. He hadn’t fully tested whether he could push lorcith forgings from other smiths the same way, but so on those he’d tried, he’d not managed to make it work for him.

Jessa looked at the knife, her finger running over his mark. “I thought Brusus shipped all your work out of the city so the Elvraeth didn’t discover us.”

“That’s my understanding.”

She looked around, studying the smithy, before her eyes finally settled on the table covered with his recent forgings. “Could someone have broken in like the last time? I mean, if Josun could do it and steal that sword blade you’d made…”

“But he could Slide.” Rsiran stood, deciding to check if the sword was still where he’d hidden it. But the small space beneath the floorboard still held the sword, the jeweled hilt added by Josun making it more formal than anything that Rsiran forged had a right to be. He returned to Jessa and sat alongside her. “I think I would have noticed if something went missing.”

She nodded toward the table. “With as busy as you’ve been, how do you know what you’ve made or what’s been given to Brusus to move?”

Truth be told, Rsiran realized that he didn’t. Most of what he kept on the table had value, but not the same type of value as the lorcith he forged. He couldn’t deny that the quality of his work had improved dramatically the more he worked with lorcith. Ever since he stopped trying to ignore the way it pulled at him, instead choosing to listen.

“I guess I don’t,” he admitted.

“I’ll keep my eyes open and see if anyone is watching the streets around the smithy,” Jessa suggested.

“And if there is someone watching?”

She punched him again. “You think I don’t know how to keep myself safe? What do you think I did before I met you?”

Rsiran smiled. “I don’t know. How many times did you nearly die before you met me?”

“None.” She laughed. “Maybe I should stop spending so much time with you!”

“As if you could,” he said, pulling her toward him.

Jessa laughed again and let herself be drawn into him. “Brusus has been going there for months. Other than Josun, we haven’t seen anyone else ever enter the warehouse. Why attack tonight?”

The same night the crate had been seen on the dock. All these months thinking that they were safe. Could it be the Elvraeth or the others in Josun’s rebellion finally noticed? Could it be they finally determined who killed Josun?

Jessa squeezed his hand reassuringly, but Rsiran couldn’t shake the worry or the steady gnawing in the pit of his stomach.

T
hey awoke early
the next morning to the sound of pounding on the door. Rsiran looked over at Jessa sleeping comfortably on the thin mattress he had tucked in the back corner of the smithy and smiled at her. He pushed the lantern behind the table, making certain it was mostly hidden, before arranging his shirt and pants. Only then did he unlock the door to peek outside.

Shael’s massive form filled the doorway. The smuggler had a deeply tanned face with a wide beard. Piercing blue eyes stared at Rsiran. “Good you be here, Rsiran.” He peered past Rsiran, looking over his shoulder, eyes quickly scanning everything. “You be liking the forge I find for you?”

Rsiran nodded, smiling at the massive smuggler. He had only seen Shael one time since the first time they’d met, but the wide man made quite the impression. Shael had been the one to find the forge, had helped get him set up with his shop. Had anyone other than Brusus introduced him to Shael, Rsiran might have been more nervous around him. But if Brusus trusted him, then Rsiran felt he should as well. Still, having Shael suddenly show up at his door—and he considered the smithy his—put him on edge, especially after what happened the night before.

“You want to see it?”

Shael glanced up the street for a moment and then nodded. “I do be curious what you did with the space,” he admitted.

Rsiran moved away from the door and Shael stepped inside. Appraising eyes scanned the smithy quickly, looking to the patched roof and the swept floor. Even the brick of the chimney had been patched so that it smoked properly. Rsiran had worked a damper into it so that it diffused the smoke out several different chimneys, making it look like several small fires burned here rather than one massive one. Less likely to be noticed that way.

“Cleaned up right nice, didn’t it?” Shael said. “Never made you proper. No be havin’ the time. But Brusus do be keepin’ the constables away?”

Rsiran nodded. “Constables have left us alone.” From what Rsiran could tell, the constables had no interest in coming into this part of the city. But Rsiran made a point of not walking through the streets to reach his smithy. He didn’t have to. And none of the other people living along the street ever complained about the noise from his hammering. He wondered if the constables would take it seriously if they did.

Their voices had woken Jessa, and she rubbed her eyes as she came over. She frowned when she saw Shael and shot Rsiran a questioning look.

The wide man gave her a crooked smile. “So you two do be together now? Good for you, girl. Need a solid man in your life, don’ ya?”

“Do I?” she asked dangerously.

Shael raised his hands. “Jus’ want you to be happy, is all I be sayin’.” He laughed and glanced over at Rsiran. “Can’ say I didn’t see it. Now you be takin’ good care of her?” he asked Rsiran.

“Why are you here, Shael?” Jessa asked. She shifted the flower tucked into her shirt that had wilted overnight. Rsiran knew that she would be finding a new one as soon as she could. Jessa didn’t like going too long with a faded flower.

“Touchy girl?” He laughed and ran a beefy hand through his wild brown hair. “You do be happy?”

She glanced at Rsiran with sleepy eyes and laughed. “I do be happy, Shael.”

Rsiran suddenly remembered what he had heard last night. “Haern thought you weren’t in Elaeavn.”

Shael snorted. “Haern don’t be knowing me travels, now do he?”

He looked around and his eyes settled briefly on the long table covered with Rsiran’s forgings. Jessa stood partially in front of it, blocking his view. Rsiran realized that she did it so Shael wouldn’t see the lantern tucked behind the table. Considering everything he had openly on the table, it seemed strange that the lantern was the one thing they most wanted to hide. While the forgings of copper or iron wouldn’t cause him any issue, the lorcith knives resting on one end of the table would get him into as much trouble as anything else were they discovered.

“I be coming to see if you got something I can use, Rsiran. Brusus do be telling me of your forgings, and I have need of something I just can’t be finding elsewhere. He say to come by here, see if you do be able to help.”

“What sort of something?”

A wide smile split Shael’s mouth, his yellowed teeth peeking through. He reached into one of his pockets and pulled a tightly rolled sheet of parchment. “Do be needing space,” he muttered.

Rsiran led him to the table and cleared a section, shifting some iron and steel work out of the way. A few bowls, a short length of chain, and a narrow candleholder, all made as a way for him to test his skill, to see if the lorcith had truly taught him or if he depended upon the metal to guide him. Each turned out far better than he had expected. He had hidden his mark on each.

Unrolling the sheet of paper, Shael had to unfold it before its size could be appreciated. Shael took one of the steel bowls and set it atop the page to hold it down. Then he smoothed the rest of it flat with his thick hand. What Rsiran saw on the parchment surprised him.

Rather than a single item, it appeared to be schematics of some kind. Each piece labeled with dimensions, the shape carefully drawn. Notations along the side had no meaning until he realized that they indicated what metals should be used. Most he recognized, but there were a few that he couldn’t quite place.

“What is it?” Jessa asked over his shoulder.

“I’m… I’m not sure.”

He leaned toward the drawings, trying to piece them together in his mind, but couldn’t. They were schematics; everything was diagramed in an exploded view, lines and arrows indicating how it should go back together. Rsiran had seen schematics like this before in his father’s shop, but had never paid much attention to them. His father wouldn’t include him with this detailed of work.

“’Course it do be a device! All these parts and fixed together like that?” Shael laughed and his belly shook. He pointed a pudgy finger at the page. “Can ya doing anything with it?”

Rsiran looked up. “There have got to be dozens of smiths that would be better able to help you with this. I’m not sure I can even follow these plans.”

Shael laughed. “You don’t know how good you be, do ya, Rsiran? Don’t know how skilled you become? Just look at this bowl.” Shael lifted the bowl that was holding the page down. When he did, the paper folded up and back on itself, closing as if to hide the diagram on the inside. “Not too many smiths able to pull the metal so thin, you see? Way you be doing it almost makes it transparent. You do be creating some curves here too. Trust me, nothing like this anywhere else.” He shook his head as he set the bowl back down, not bothering to open the plans back up. “No other smith has the skills I need. Not here, at least.”

Jessa grabbed his hand and squeezed, holding with just a little more pressure than was necessary. “Why does it need to be here?”

Shael glanced at her. “I’m here.”

Rsiran resisted the urge to turn and look at Jessa. The pressure on his hand meant that she was warning him to be careful, though he did not need her to tell him that. “I’m not sure that I can help with this, Shael. If you needed something simple…”

Shael grunted and shook his head. “Simple don’t be doing me no good, now. Just look over the plans a bit. Then you be telling me whether you can do this thing.” He made a point of looking down the table to where the lorcith knives lay openly.

Rsiran nodded carefully, suddenly wishing that he had been more careful with how he stored his work. The pace at which Brusus wanted product from him had made him careless about putting things away. But it was more than that. Other than Jessa and occasionally Brusus, no one came to the shop. And Rsiran simply Slid there. “I’ll look it over.” He forced a smile. “Will you be in town for long?”

“Long enough,” Shael said, waving his hand.

“Where can I find you?”

Shael’s wide mouth split, flashing teeth. “You don’t need to find me, Rsiran,” Shael assured him. “I do be knowing where to find you.”

He looked at the table again, eyes lingering longer than needed, and then turned, weaving around a few uneven spots on the floor before reaching the door. Shael pulled it closed with a loud thud.

Jessa released his hand and hurried to the door, locking it quietly behind Shael. She turned to Rsiran, a worried look on her face.

“What is it?”

“Probably nothing.”

It was the same thing he had said in the warehouse. “But it might be something?”

“Just… I got a strange feeling when he was asking you to make that,” she said, motioning to the paper still folded on the table.

“He said Brusus sent him here.”

Jessa frowned as she bit her lip and leaned toward her flower. As she inhaled, her nose crinkled slightly. “Fine. But maybe we show Haern. Learn what he might See.”

“Jessa—”

She threw up her hands. “Fine. I’m just being paranoid. But you can’t say it’s not earned.”

Rsiran smiled, looking to the door. Shael might not be from Elaeavn, but he knew enough people in the city to get things. He’d gotten the forge and knew about the lorcith.

“Shael is a friend,” Rsiran said. Wasn’t he? Shael worked with Firell, and Brusus trusted him completely, probably why Brusus sent him to Rsiran.

Rsiran glanced back down to the rolled up schematics on the table. The least he could do for Shael was study the plan and see if he could understand anything from it. But not now. First, he needed to clear his head, and to do that, he needed to work the forge.

As he picked up a lump of lorcith, he wondered what it would compel him to make this time.