Blood of the Watcher (The Dark Ability Book 4) (19 page)

BOOK: Blood of the Watcher (The Dark Ability Book 4)
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“That’s probably what it was,” he said. He hoped that it wasn’t something else, that Thom had managed to penetrate the barriers that he used to protect himself, but would he really have known?

He should have thought about it before now, but maybe there was a reason that he hadn’t. Maybe
that
was the reason he’d been so eager to attack. “We need to go to Della,” he said.

“Why?”

“We’ve been saying all along that Thom probably knew we were coming.” Jessa nodded. “And if he did, what if he Compelled me?”

“I thought you could protect your mind so that he couldn’t?”

Rsiran had thought the same, but then Thom had managed to mask the presence of heartstone from him. If he could do that, and if the implant somehow made him that much stronger at Compelling, it was possible that Rsiran
had
been affected.

“I thought so, too, but after what happened,” he said, looking over to where the heartstone had exploded, “I need to be certain.”

Chapter 24

A
fter grabbing three small knives
—he no longer liked going without something that he could
push
if needed—Rsiran Slid them to Della’s home. Each time that he visited Della, he had the memory of the first time he had come, when he had needed her Healing services more than anything. That had been before he had been willing to embrace his ability, and before he had known about the extent of his connection to lorcith.

As usual, a cozy hearth glowed with a warm light. The smell of the mint tea that Della preferred permeated the air, mingling with the scents of the herbs and ointments that she mixed for her healing. A single lantern glowed near the back corner, giving even more light.

Della stood behind the counter where she worked with a thick ceramic bowl, pressing a long pestle into it with a steady motion. She barely looked up as they emerged.

“I’m sorry to intrude,” he said to her.

She sniffed, set the pestle down, and dusted her hands across her dress. Usually, she was dressed in vibrant colors, and today was no different, with stripes of orange and red spiraling around her dress. Her gray hair was tied back and twisted into a tight bun. “I’ve told you before, Rsiran, that you have no need to be sorry. Besides, I can always tell when you’re making your way here.”

She pulled a jar off the shelf behind her and propped open the lid, taking out a pinch and sprinkling it into the bowl on the counter. Then she picked up her pestle and began grinding again, moving with a steady determination.

“That’s why we’re here,” Jessa said.

Della looked up and arched a brow. “Not many places you don’t go together, now are there?”

Jessa smiled. “I thought you told me to keep him in my Sight.”

“That is what I said now, isn’t it?”

Rsiran hadn’t heard that before, but shouldn’t be surprised that Della was giving Jessa instructions on watching him. Probably Brusus had some as well.

“So you’re worried about what I detect?”

“Not what you detect,” Rsiran said. He stepped over to the counter and looked into the bowl. She worked a thick greenish paste and pulled another jar off a different shelf and placed three pinches into the bowl. “But what others can detect when I Slide.”

“Not much to worry about in the city. There aren’t too many with my particular talent.” She looked up from the bowl and fixed Rsiran with a steady stare.

“There’s another in Elaeavn who can detect Sliding,” Rsiran said. Why hadn’t he told Della about that sooner? Would she know Sarah?

Della paused and studied him. “Another? There hasn’t been another outside the…” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Who have you seen in Elaeavn?”

“A woman named Sarah. She was with another, a man named Valn, when I saw them. They were following me.”

Della nodded slowly. “That’s why you’ve been training with Haern?”

“You knew about that?”

Della sniffed. “Not much that I don’t know about when it comes to you.” She tapped the side of her head. “Remember what I told you about my connections, those that formed after I held the Great Crystal?” He nodded. “Those connections let me See, much like Haern, only mine is different.”

“Do you know of her?”

Della set the pestle down and stared at him for a moment. “I don’t know who else might follow the ripples of your Sliding, Rsiran. If there are others, you are already in more danger than we realized.”

“I know.”

Della sniffed. “And still you Slide here, carrying another with you, knowing how the ripples form.”

“Did you feel them?”

Della grabbed a spoon and started stirring the paste in the bowl, pulling it out and sliding it into another jar. She worked carefully, almost as if avoiding touching the paste. When she was finished, she carried the spoon and the pestle over to the fire where she set them in the flames. The spoon began burning, sending blue and green sparks sputtering into her room. The pestle simple charred, the same sparks shooting off it until the paste was burned free.

She glanced at Rsiran, as if waiting for him to ask what she was making. He was curious, but Della was a master Healer, and there were more herbs and medicines in her home than he could even begin to name.

“You think you’ve found some way to hide yourself? Is that why you risk coming?”

He tapped the sword he still wore beneath his cloak. There was less need to carry the sword in Elaeavn, and more risk—if he were caught with a sword, the punishment was severe—but he liked the idea that his Sliding couldn’t be deterred when he carried it with him.

“You think heartstone keeps you safe?” she asked.

He thought that it had, but had never tested his theory. “They can’t Slide past it.”

“Yes, but
you
can. What if it matters little about the metal and more about the individual doing the Sliding?” Della asked.

“It’s more than the heartstone,” Rsiran said. “Since…” When had it been that he started Sliding without stepping into the Slide? Could it really have been Venass? He didn’t remember doing it before then, and when he’d been there, it had taken all of his focus to maintain the connection to the distant lorcith that he detected. “Since Venass,” he went on, “I’ve found a different way to Slide.”

Della turned to him, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Different?”

He nodded. Maybe he should have been Sliding that way ever since he realized there was someone after him, but sometimes speed mattered. Rsiran had gotten stronger at Sliding—practicing daily and always bringing Jessa with him had increased his strength—and with strength came a certain speed. Could he gain the same speed
pulling
himself?

“This is less like walking than a drawing sort of Slide.” He shrugged. “I don’t think I can explain it any better than that.”

“And you don’t think this method can be influenced?”

“I don’t know. I thought the heartstone helped prevent me from having my Slides influenced. I’m hopeful that this other technique keeps me from having my Slides detected.”

Together, he might have a way to move safely, and not worry about what would happen when he Slid.

Della sighed. “You risk much not knowing how this actually works, Rsiran. Do you know with certainty that this technique is effective, or do you simply hope that it is?”

“I… Can we test it?” Rsiran suggested.

Della frowned, taking a moment to screw a lid onto the jar of green paste, before nodding. “I can try.” She glanced up, a wry smile teasing at her lips. “It’s been a few years since anyone thought to test me.”

He forced a smile and nodded to Jessa.

“She can stay here. We have a few things to talk about, anyway. Why don’t you travel someplace far enough where I can try to influence you?”

He considered where to go, before deciding on the place where everything had really started for him, and the place that he had meant to visit, anyway.

Chapter 25

R
siran emerged
from the Slide atop Ilphaesn. The air carried the bitter scent of lorcith and wind gusted around the massive rock in the strange way that it did here. He hesitated, listening to the call of the lorcith and the way that the mountain itself almost seemed to speak to him. Something had changed since the last time he’d been here.

It took a moment for him to understand what it was that he sensed: Massive amounts of lorcith had shifted within the mountain.

Why would the lorcith have changed?

He gazed toward the city in the distance. From atop Ilphaesn, especially at night, Elaeavn almost appeared to glow. There was a peaceful sort of light about the city, a brightness to it that he didn’t appreciate when standing in the streets. From here, it was hard to tell the separation that existed between Lower Town and Upper Town. The palace looked a part of the city, rather than carrying the illusion that it floated from the wall of rock itself. Everything appeared simple, peaceful.

The first time he’d stood here, he’d been dragged from the city, forced to come to Ilphaesn and serve so that his father could prove a point, to force him away from his connection to lorcith, to try and prevent him from listening to the call of lorcith, as
his
father had forced him away from lorcith.

Only, by sending him to Ilphaesn, he had forced a tighter connection to lorcith than what Rsiran would ever have learned otherwise. Had his father really wanted to prevent him from listening to lorcith, he would have sent him away from the city as he had been. At least there, the temptation would not have been present.

Rsiran turned his focus back to the change within the mountain. Before thinking too much about what he did, he Slid into the caves within the mountain, emerging within the main part where he had camped for the weeks that he’d spent here. Normally, there was a soft draw of the orange light within the mines, but either that had been extinguished, or it was gone altogether.

When Rsiran had last visited, he had no Sight, nothing to help him find his way through the mines but the sense of lorcith in the walls. With that, he could create a map, and it formed within his mind as he stood there. The mines were more extensive than he’d last seen, as if the miners had taken a more aggressive approach. Not only more extensive, but more lorcith had been removed than ever before.

And here he had thought to come to the mines to discover why all the lorcith that he knew existed within the mountain remained hidden, and how the supply was constricted. Instead, he found that lorcith had been mined in massive quantities.

How long had it been since he’d been to Ilphaesn—really been here, and long enough to take a sense of the mines? A month?

Before sneaking into the palace again, he knew.

It couldn’t be a coincidence that lorcith had been pulled from Ilphaesn around the same time that he’d Slid into the palace for the second time. That hadn’t gone unnoticed, and the Elvraeth would not be pleased with the fact that he had managed to make it past their barriers, but he had not expected their mining patterns to change.

Unless it wasn’t the Elvraeth.

The Forgotten had managed to gain access to lorcith as well. When he’d left the Forgotten Palace, he had suspected that their access was a mine other than Ilphaesn, but what if wasn’t?

Or, what if the hidden mines, the ones that he’d heard someone working in during his time trapped here, had finally connected? Josun still lived, saved by Firell’s compassion, so he didn’t doubt that Josun had shared with the Forgotten the secret of the mines that he accessed.

Rsiran took a step forward, realizing as he did that the change in his Sight made the mines different as well. Since holding the crystal, his Sight had improved, but within the mines, it was more than simply improved. There were the gradations of shadows that Jessa had described when they had last come, but even more than that.

Much like with the heartstone sword, and how it glowed with a soft blue light—visible even here, he realized—light and color blazed off the wall, as if burning through the stone. It took a moment for him to realize that what he saw was lorcith.

And it matched the image within his head. Lorcith, all around him, and burning brightly. Would it be like the heartstone, that only he could see? Or had something changed here?

The longer he stared, the more intense the light coming from the lorcith became, eventually becoming practically blinding, it was so bright.

What had happened when he held the crystal?

He remembered staring down, as if from the top of a massive mountain, seeing flashes of white far below. At that time, he recognized that the white light he’d seen had come from lorcith, and now here within the mountain, he saw lorcith much like he had when holding the crystal.

Did that mean the other part of the vision was accurate as well?

He’d had the sense of a blue light, one that made him think of heartstone. Could he find that the same way? Would he
see
it the same way?

Noise from down the cave caught his attention.

Rsiran nearly Slid away, but decided against it. Now that he was here, he wanted to know what was happening within Ilphaesn. The Elvraeth may claim the lorcith as theirs, but he felt a certain possessiveness about it as well, as if the lorcith here were meant for him. Even knowing that was not the case didn’t change how he felt. Given the abilities that he possessed, and the way that he could use lorcith, he couldn’t help but feel that connection.

He started down the mine shaft, Sliding a few steps as he went, willing to risk small Slides without pulling himself along. The lorcith all around him, and the heartstone sword he carried with him, would protect him here.

After a dozen Slides, he stopped and listened for the sound. It was a different experience for him in the mine than when he’d been here before. There was always a certain terror to standing in the pure dark, not able to see anything around him. When he’d learned to use his connection to the lorcith to form a map, that had alleviated some of that discomfort, but part of it remained. Now, it seemed nearly as bright as daylight.

He paused, thinking of the map that had been made of iron and grindl. Could it be a map of the mines?

Trying to form an almost superimposed mental image of the two, he decided that it wasn’t.

Rsiran sighed. That would have been too easy. And unlikely. Why would his father—or whoever had placed it within the hut—have had a map of the Ilphaesn mines?

The soft wind that blew through the mine touched his cheeks and pulled softly on his cloak. No sound drifted with it, nothing that would tell him that he wasn’t alone.

Rsiran wondered if there were miners sleeping in the massive cavern as he once had. Without the light, he should have thought to check. What if the miners were down here with him? What if that was the sound that he’d heard?

Once he would have been afraid of that, but now he could take himself to safety. Now he had the knives with him that he could use to remain safe.

He made another few Slides. The slope of the mineshaft angled gradually downward. Rsiran passed places that he’d mined when his father had sentenced him here, places that had never looked as they did now with the bright light glowing from the walls. Even with as much lorcith as had been mined from Ilphaesn, massive amounts still remained.

He stopped in a wider cavern and glanced around. It was here that the foreman had collected the lorcith that was mined and recorded the haul for the day. Men would buy their freedom here.

A table and a chair had been here, as well as a lantern and scale to record the lorcith mined. Now this was nothing more than an empty room.

Not empty, Rsiran realized. The bright white light that he saw all around him concentrated in a corner of the room, burning brightly along the wall. With a Slide, he reached the wall. The light that he saw came from dozens of lumps of lorcith. One in particular was massive, almost as large as he was. His time in Venass had shown him that there were collections of lorcith as large as that, but he’d never seen lump lorcith that size in person.

He ran his hand along the top of the lorcith and felt the tingling energy of the metal. It called to him, the steady song that he’d long ago decided to listen to. One voice was louder than the others, and he was surprised to note that it was a smaller piece of lorcith that leaned against the wall. Rsiran pocketed it.

Most of this lorcith would have been enough to buy miner’s freedom. Rsiran started to count, but realized there were simply too many for him to keep track of. He let the lorcith tell him how many there were.

Nearly one hundred, and each larger than any that had been found during his time in the mines. Enough to free
all
of the miners who had been sentenced to Ilphaesn.

More than ever before, he wanted to know what was happening here.

When he’d been in the mine before, he had known that there was lorcith all around. Most men went days without finding anything, and when they did, they came up with only small nuggets, never anything of much value. Rsiran had drawn several larger lumps out of the mountain while here, but had done so without knowing how much danger that placed him in.

He remembered overhearing men speaking about the limited supply of lorcith, but never really knowing why. But he thought he did now. Someone had Compelled the miners
not
to find lorcith.

And now the entire mountain had changed. He felt the energy within the mine differently. There was no sense from the lorcith whether the change was good or bad, only that it was different. But Rsiran worried. Why would so much lorcith be needed?

He’d seen lorcith used in dangerous ways before. Not only the way that he could control it, and
push
his knives, but also the way the scholars used lorcith, nearly sealing him inside of Venass, or to modify themselves, piercing flesh with bars of the metal. The scholar he’d met had used it to gain control over lorcith.

Even the things that he had made possessed power. There were the bracelets that he’d made for Jessa that prevented Reading and Compelling. The knives had a certain power to them, something like a life that he had given them, powered by his ability to
push
on them.

What else could he make?

Della had called him dangerous. With this much lorcith, not only might he be dangerous, but whoever intended to use it would be as well, especially if they had the ability to listen to the call of the metal.

Rsiran shivered.

He stopped next to the massive lump of lorcith. In some ways, it was already shaped something like a man, and twice as wide. Its song was not as strong as some—surprising, given its size—but there was a depth to it that he heard. As he rested his hand on the metal, he could imagine shapes it would take, possibilities of ways to manipulate it, if only he could find some way to heat it. This lump would let itself become many things…

Rsiran pulled his hand away.

Lorcith rarely had multiple shapes that it would take. The metal was often willing to let him shape it, to turn it into something different, but never had he known the lorcith to have many shapes it was willing to take.

He knew suddenly that he could not leave this here.

Taking it would reveal that he’d been here to whoever had pulled this lorcith free, but Rsiran didn’t want to leave it here, especially with its willingness to take on multiple shapes, as the metal here was. He needed to take it with him.

But how?

It was too large to carry. Even smaller lumps of lorcith were heavy, and this was simply massive.

Could he Slide it?

Something like that would ripple, he suspected, enough that anyone able to detect Sliding would know that he traveled, but they wouldn’t necessarily know anything more than when he Slid with Jessa and Brusus. Here was his chance to test the type of Slide, and confirm that no one could influence or detect it when he
pulled
, rather than stepped.

He hoped that proved to be true.

Where would he take it?

The first thought was to his smithy, but for some reason, that didn’t feel right.

There was another place, but he didn’t think he’d be able to keep it any more protected there than it was here. Yet, the more he thought about it, the more
right
it felt.

Rsiran wrapped his arms around the lorcith. He couldn’t lift it, but had not really expected to be able to. If he could Slide without moving, he wouldn’t need to.

Closing his eyes, he formed the image in his mind of where he intended to emerge. He’d been there enough that he wouldn’t need an anchor—a good thing, especially since he did not have one—and held tightly to the lorcith.

Then he drew himself forward, albeit more slowly given the mass and weight of his traveling companion. Holding onto lorcith of this size, the movement was more like trying to Slide through the alloy, but not exactly the same. Going through the alloy was more of an oozing, a steady forceful push until he popped free. In some ways, he worried that there was a danger trying to Slide through the alloy. Not so much for him, but for those who traveled with him. He’d been torn from Jessa once, though that had been in the palace, and he suspected that there was more to what happened than what he knew.

This was a steady drawing sensation. He felt the effort of the Slide, but not the weight of the lorcith that he brought with him. Whatever he held onto came with him, as if a part of him.

Would he be able to bring something even larger if he wanted? It was hard to believe that he could bring anything larger than this lorcith, but if he could…

He emerged.

The air was damp and earthy, the scent of the Aisl Forest filling his nostrils, a sharp change from the mines of Ilphaesn. He stood deep in the forest, near a clearing where Lianna had been buried. This was a place that he had known well in his childhood, and returned to often when Sliding. It was a place like this that he had first hidden lorcith when escaping from the mine. It was far enough away from the hut on the edge of the forest that he didn’t think it would be discovered.

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