Rsiran could imagine the look that she would have shot Brusus and almost smiled.
“You sure you want to see me like this?” Rsiran asked as she approached.
Jessa leaned over and kissed him softly. “Idiot,” she whispered. “Had you taken me with you—”
“We both would have been hurt,” Rsiran finished.
Jessa touched his arm, and Rsiran was thankful that he could feel it. “Della will get you fixed up, Rsiran.”
If anyone would be able to help him, it would be Della. But she would need help, especially if it involved lorcith. “Brusus says she’s working with Ephram. She needs to find Seval.”
“Rsiran, that’s not a good idea, not with what happened to you.”
“Why?” Speaking had grown hard, and Rsiran already felt his strength fading, but he wanted to know what Jessa feared.
“Because of what you said,” Brusus said. He stood close enough to Jessa that they seemed one large blur rather than two distinct people, but he smelled the flower on Jessa and the mint from Brusus. “What if Seval was part of this?”
“Seval isn’t a part of this,” Rsiran said. The master smith wanted to hear the lorcith, and nothing more.
Brusus whispered something to Jessa, but he couldn’t make out what it was. When he leaned into Rsiran, he breathed out heavily. “Just rest and give the Healing time. Della will have you back to normal soon enough.”
Rsiran closed his eyes, unable to stop the growing fear that she might not be able to Heal him.
What would happen to him then? And what of Venass? Who would stop them?
“Is he awake?”
“I’m awake,” Rsiran said, not recognizing the voice. He kept his eyes closed. The blurriness hadn’t changed since he’d first come back around. Jessa sat somewhere in the room—every so often he’d hear her say something to someone else, probably Brusus, he decided—and he smelled the faint fragrance from her flower. Brusus had come and gone, but left him alone for the most part, as if afraid to sit with Rsiran too long. Then again, when Brusus had been lying sick and near death, Rsiran hadn’t exactly sat with him. He’d been too busy trying to figure out some way to help him.
“Lareth. Brusus tells me that it was Venass. How sure are you?”
Rsiran blinked open his eyes. Ephram stood just outside the range of where Rsiran could see anything, making him little more than a dark blur. “How certain?” he repeated. His mind still felt foggy. “The weapon was Venass. Rhan admitted he was with them.”
“What kind of weapon?”
Rsiran sighed. “Powered by lorcith, but darker. Not sure what it was.”
It reminded him of the paired lorcith piercings that Ephram had shown him at the guild that day, but he wasn’t sure it was the same. Had he known—and he should have known—he might have been able to better prepare for a response.
But it had been more than lorcith spikes that had struck him. The power that increased as Rhan had brought the spheres together—Rsiran had never seen anything like that, but then, he had little experience with the trapped potential within lorcith. In the mines, he had been able to hear it, but more than that… he hadn’t had the time to truly understand it.
Rsiran smelled it as Jessa approached and stood at the bedside. “Have you figured out how to help him?” she asked.
“That’s why I’m here. Lareth. Can you move at all?”
“Only my head.”
“What can you feel?”
Rsiran focused on his body. Thankfully, the pain that he’d experienced upon waking had eased, leaving him with a throbbing sensation. He suspected that Della was responsible for that, but he hadn’t seen her since coming around. “Everything.”
Ephram touched his arm. “I’m going to turn you—”
“Della said that’s not safe,” Jessa said.
“If we don’t, I won’t be able to detect what else happened to him. I’m not like Lareth. I can’t sense the lorcith. If we’re going to come up with a way to help him, I need to be able to see it.”
Jessa reached Rsiran and touched his cheek and turned to Ephram. “If that’s what you need, then I’m going to help,” she said. “I don’t want you doing anything to him without Della here.”
“This is only to examine him,” Ephram said.
Jessa huffed. “Fine. But I’m helping.”
Rsiran screamed as they turned him. Pain burned through him in ways that he’d never experienced, sharper and more agonizing than anything he could have imagined. Then it began to ease, settling into a dull ache. Jessa touched his face, stroking his cheek, and brushed his hair back as she tried to soothe him.
“Shh,” she whispered.
Rsiran focused on his breathing and found himself reaching for the sense of lorcith. Even muted, he could hear it, but could he sense it as well? Now that he was more alert, he hoped that he could.
It was there. Closer to him than he expected, and embedded within him as Brusus had said, though Brusus had described numerous spikes piercing him. Rsiran couldn’t make out the individual spikes, only the combined effect of the lorcith buried in his back.
As he focused on it, the pain where they penetrated his skin began to burn.
He gritted his teeth, but even that wasn’t enough for him to tolerate it. He cried out again.
“What are you doing?” Jessa asked Ephram.
“I’m trying…” Ephram began, but didn’t finish. The burning intensified, becoming worse than before, leaving Rsiran gasping for breath. Then it stopped. “Set him back,” he said with a sigh. Rsiran let out another cry of pain as Jessa helped move him onto his back once more. Ephram leaned into him so that Rsiran could almost make out his face. “I see them, but there’s something wrong with them. They’re buried too deeply for me to be of any use. Perhaps Della can find another way…” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Lareth.”
Rsiran licked his lips again. If there was nothing that could be done for him, would he be stuck like this forever? Unable to Heal enough to see, and unable to walk? What good would he be then?
Ephram started away from him, and Rsiran called out. “If Venass nearly made it to the Smith Guild, you need to check the others.”
Ephram sighed again. “We sent word.”
“That’s not good enough. You can’t trust that you’ll know,” Rsiran said. “They can—”
Ephram came over to the bed again and leaned over Rsiran, pitching his voice in a whisper. “Each guild will require members to be Read. We will find those who sympathize—or side—with Venass.”
“And if you miss them?”
“Pray that we don’t,” Ephram said.
Chapter 24
When Della finally came to visit him, Rsiran felt as if weeks had passed. Lying in bed, unable to move, barely able to see anything, made it difficult to tolerate the passing of time. Had he just been able to see… but the blurriness didn’t ease.
Jessa stayed with him, and Brusus came and went, keeping him company. Occasionally, even his sister stopped in, though her visits were brief, and mostly to bring food. She never lingered long enough to talk. Rsiran was thankful that she made the food. If he had to suffer, and linger, at least he would have good food to eat.
Della announced her presence by the strong odor of the mint tea that she brought to him. He hadn’t heard her enter, but when the distinctive scent drifted to him, his eyes opened.
“You haven’t visited,” Rsiran said.
Jessa squeezed his hand, and he suspected that she tried to stifle him from saying anything more.
“Are you certain? A man Healed needs his sleep.”
“You’ve been coming while I’m sleeping?”
Della approached and touched his cheek. “Drink.”
She lifted his head and placed a mug to his lips. When the tea washed down his throat, he felt a steady relaxation wash over him, and sighed.
“Ephram doesn’t know how to help me,” Rsiran said.
“So he says,” Della answered.
Rsiran took another drink at Della’s prompting. When finished, he asked, “Does it mean that I’m paralyzed?”
Della pulled the mug away and set it somewhere nearby. “It means that I must keep trying to find a way to help you.”
Rsiran closed his eyes. What would happen if he was never able to see again? If he could never walk? If he never regained the same connection to lorcith?
He had feared what would happen were he captured, but in many ways, this was worse.
“You can’t give up,” Della said, “or you have already lost.”
“You’ve just told me that I’ve lost.”
Della touched his cheeks and a tingle raced through him, for a moment pushing back the steady throbbing of pain that he still felt. “For now. You may have lost for now. But Ephram is not the only one we can ask.”
“I suggested Seval—”
“The master smith does not hear lorcith well enough yet to be of any use.”
“Who do you suggest?” Rsiran asked. He heard Jessa gasp. “What is it?”
“You can’t have him here, Della. I know that you think that he’s Healed, but his mind… he’s still not there.”
“Quiet,” Della admonished. “Luca has progressed since he’s come back to Elaeavn, and he has Rsiran to thank for much of it. I don’t think that he would have returned as completely as he has without Rsiran’s help.”
Luca. Rsiran hadn’t even considered asking the boy, but he could hear lorcith. Seval might be a master smith, but the Smith Guild had attempted to push away the connection to lorcith. Seval had only now begun to reclaim it, but his connection would be nothing compared to what Luca possessed, let alone Rsiran.
“Does it still sing to you?” Rsiran asked.
He couldn’t see Luca, and could barely detect the lorcith that Rsiran knew that he’d have with him. The boy answered from the door. “The song is so familiar,” Luca said softly. “I never thanked you for it.”
“What is he talking about, Rsiran?” Jessa asked.
Rsiran tried to move his head, but couldn’t. “Could you show her?”
Luca shuffled forward, and Rsiran heard Jessa gasp. “This was yours?” she asked Rsiran.
“I made it for him.”
“This is Ilphaesn.”
Rsiran sighed. He could picture the lorcith sculpture clearly in his mind, even if he couldn’t see it. “He needed something that reminded him of Ilphaesn. He needed to hear the same song he heard in the mines. The lorcith there, all of it together, it has a specific song. And that,” he said, wishing he could see it, “with that, there’s an… echo… of the song.” Rsiran tried to smile. The memory of the song filled him, and he closed his eyes, trying to hear it again. Since the injury, he could hear the lorcith, and sense it, but everything was muted and diluted, nothing like the sense of lorcith should be.
“It’s beautiful,” Jessa said.
“That it is,” Della agreed. “He takes it with him wherever he goes. He tells me the song guides him.” She leaned toward Rsiran, and he smelled a bitter odor that was more potent than what he usually detected from her, and nothing like the mint tea that she preferred. “Without you, he would not have returned. As I told you, Rsiran, only you could bring him back.”
Rsiran sighed. “Maybe once. But no longer.”
Della sniffed. “And now it is his turn to see if there’s anything he can do to help you.”
“How?” Rsiran asked. “If Ephram couldn’t find a way to pull on the potential trapped in my spine…”
“I hear the song,” Luca said.
“We know that you hear the song,” Jessa snapped at him. “What does that have to do with helping Rsiran?”
“Easy, Jessa,” he said to her.
“No, Rsiran. I can’t stand this anymore! You got hurt because you thought that you needed to be the one trying to do everything! You wanted to help Seval. You’re working with Luca. And you wanted to figure out what’s going on with Venass. Why does it have to all be you?”
“Jessa—”
She shook her head and started to turn away. “I can’t stand to see you like this,” she whispered to him.
“And I can’t see you. I guess we’re both miserable.”
Della grabbed his hand and pulled Jessa’s hand into his. She did something, and the same steady tingling washed through him.
“I hear the song,” Luca said again. He was closer to them now.
“I know that you do,” Rsiran said. “And I’m glad that you haven’t lost that.”
“But I hear it,” Luca said.
Rsiran tried to look past Jessa and Della, to see Luca, but he saw nothing more than the blur. “What do you hear? From the sculpture I made you?”
“Not that,” Luca said. His voice had gone softer, and he shuffled closer to the bed. “In you. I hear the song. You never had the song in you before. It’s there, but it’s wrong.”
“What’s he talking about, Rsiran?” Jessa asked, suppressing a sob.
“I think he hears the lorcith in my back,” Rsiran answered.
“In you,” Luca repeated.
“What does he mean that it’s wrong?”
Rsiran licked his lips. The lorcith in the spheres Rhan used against him had felt wrong too. Was that what Luca detected? “I can’t help. Since my injury, I haven’t been able to hear lorcith the same way. It’s as if whatever Rhan did muted it for me. I can sense it, but nothing more than a vague awareness, not the focus that I should have.”
“The song is wrong.”
“Can you fix it?” Della asked.
Luca now stood next to her. “I’ve never tried to fix the song before. It’s always been there, but I’ve never had to do anything but listen.”
If Luca could somehow change the song and guide Della, would she be able to remove the lorcith from his back? And if so… “If the lorcith were gone, could you Heal me?” he asked Della.
“The lorcith prevents me from completely helping you,” she said. “I could remove the spikes, but if I pull them out in the wrong order, then you won’t survive. It’s safer to leave them for now.”
“But if Luca can guide you?”
“Rsiran,” Della said, “it’s still possible that even if we remove the lorcith from your back, that I won’t be able to Heal you. Some injuries… some are more permanent than others. Venass would know this. I suspect it’s the reason they chose to use a weapon like they did.”
“But if you could.”
“It’s possible,” she said with a sigh.
Rsiran closed his eyes and tried to listen for lorcith, to sense it in him. This close, he should be able to detect something, but it still was nothing more than a vague awareness. And he hadn’t sensed anything from the lorcith that Jessa wore or the Ilphaesn sculpture. It was as if they weren’t even there.
While recovering, he’d tried Sliding a few times, just to see if he could move even a little, but he had failed at that too. All of his abilities were limited, or gone. Venass had taken them from him, taken all that he was, leaving him stuck in something like a shell. It was a prison, and one far worse than any other that he’d ever experienced.
“Let him try,” Rsiran said.
Jessa squeezed his hand. “Rsiran!”
“What’s it going to hurt?”
“You could die,” she said.
He took a deep breath. “I’m dying now. I can’t move. I can’t see you. I can’t sense lorcith. And I can’t Slide. There’s nothing for me.”
“There’s me,” she sobbed.
“There’s you,” he agreed. “But if I don’t try, I’d be a burden to you. To everyone. I can’t do that.”
“You’d be no burden,” Della said. She pulled Jessa and Rsiran closer together. “I will attempt this if you both agree, but I won’t if you can’t.”
Rsiran already knew how he’d answer. Trying was the only thing that he could do. If he did nothing, if he remained in his current state, he might as well be dead.
“I hear the song,” Luca said.
Jessa sobbed louder. “Do it,” she said.
Rsiran licked his lips, and swallowed. “Please.”
Della sent a wave of tingling through him again, and when it eased, he felt nothing. No throbbing. No pain. Nothing. “For this, you must be on your stomach,” she said. “Jessa, you can hold his hand, but you need to be on the other side.”
Rsiran was aware that he was being moved, but nothing more than that.
Della maneuvered herself into his line of sight. “Breathe. I will talk you through what I am doing.”
Rsiran closed his eyes. “Listen to the song,” he said to Luca. “You know how it should be and you must be the one to find the way to fix it.”
“I can hear it,” Luca said.
Hands touched him, running across his back. For a moment, whatever Della had done to remove his pain held, but then it faded and fire bloomed anew in his back.
“This one and this one,” Luca said.
“What about them?” Della asked.
“They’re wrong.”
Rsiran wished that he could see where Luca pointed, and what Della would do, but what use would that have been? Without being able to sense the lorcith, seeing it wouldn’t help. And he wasn’t certain that he could watch, anyway.
“I will remove the first,” Della said. “Breathe, Rsiran.”
He focused on his breathing, slow and steady breaths. Fire suddenly surged in him, working out from the middle of his back and radiating to his feet and hands. Then it eased, fading once more.
“Is it done?” he asked.
“Only the first,” Della answered.
Rsiran strained for whether he could hear the lorcith any better now that one of the spikes had been removed, but there was no change. The song and his awareness of lorcith remained a faded and distant sense.
“What next?” Della asked Luca.
“The song is different.”
“Can you tell what it should be?” Della asked.
A few moments passed with Rsiran squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on the throbbing in his back. “It’s… softer,” Luca said.
The Shadowsteel Forge (The Dark Ability Book 5) Page 18
