“If you have to sneak through the palace, you’re taking me.” Her tone allowed no argument.
Rsiran decided he could Slide her to safety once he knew where they were going.
The guard was drawing closer to where they crouched. Rsiran scanned the yard but didn’t see any others. He focused on the area in front of the building. Pressing forward with his Slide, he didn’t meet any resistance like he had earlier. Squeezing Jessa’s hand, he took a small step and emerged outside the building.
The effort of the Slide made him lean forward as a wave of dizziness threatened to overcome him. Jessa pulled on his arm to keep him upright. As he stood, he noticed she had been right. A door was cut into the face of the building, barely more than a simple line around the frame marking its border. A silvery handle, clearly of lorcith and folded like his knives to make it look like the metal was liquid, was at waist high.
“Are you sure this connects to the towers?” he whispered.
Jessa shook her head. “Not sure about anything here.”
She went to work, ducking down in front of the door. The folded leather lockpick set was already out, and she pulled out a slender rod and stuffed it into the lock.
Rsiran looked across the courtyard. Soft grass grew all around, green even in the light of the moon. The five towers loomed high overhead. Blue light glowed behind a few of the windows. He saw no sign of the guard who had been patrolling near them, but they needed to hurry. The demonstration would be over before they started if they got caught in the open.
Up close, the dark building behind him was not the same color as lorcith as he first thought. Rsiran set a hand on it and found the surface cool and smooth. A faint humming pulsated in the wall, as if coming from a great distance. The sense was familiar and reminded him of the way lorcith seemed to call on him when he had been in the mines, but different.
His breath caught. Not stone at all, but a form of lorcith, an alloy. But Rsiran did not think that possible.
Jessa stepped back and bumped into him. “Can’t open it. There seems to be something in the lock.”
Rsiran slipped past her and looked at the lock. Oblong and thin, more like a slit than any lock he had seen. A simple round hoop sat above it. On an impulse, he pulled one of his forged knives out of his pocket, the folds flowing and sliding in the light of the moon, and pushed it into the slit.
At first, there was resistance, but then the knife pushed past it, as if stabbing through a barrier, and he felt a soft click. The door opened.
Jessa glared at him. “How did you do that?” she whispered, moving past him and into the doorway.
Rsiran shrugged. “Guess you’re not the only sneak.”
She elbowed him in the side as she hurried into the building.
Before following her through the door, he pulled the knife out of the slit and stuffed it back into his pocket. Rsiran saw a shadow move and pulled the door closed behind him. It shut with a soft click.
“This better be part of the palace,” he suggested as darkness surrounded him.
Not for the first time, he was thankful Jessa was with him. Without her Sight, he was not sure that he would even be inside already. Now that he was, he would need her Sight to guide him. Hopefully Haern’s vision wasn’t accurate.
The darkness around him was complete, somehow seeming even darker than what he had experienced in the mines. There seemed to be a distant sound, like a humming or a buzzing, and he felt a soft thrumming through the soles of his boots that vibrated through him.
Jessa grabbed his hand, and he gripped her tightly.
She led him forward. “Stairs.”
The sudden sound almost made him jump. With her warning, he dragged his feet forward, feeling his way along the smooth floor. Everything about it reminded him of being in the mines. Even the sense of lorcith around him was like the mines.
“How will we find where we’re going?” Jessa asked after they had taken several dozen steps.
“I’ll feel it,” He hadn’t told her that part yet.
“What do you mean?”
He pulled on her hand as they walked and pulled her closer so he could feel her next to him. She smelled like the flower on her shirt, sweet and perfumed but with a hint of spice. Even scared as he was, Rsiran couldn’t help but smile.
“Lorcith is different from other metals.”
“You’ve said that.”
He shook his head, wishing he could see her face as she could see his. Always he felt so limited with his ability. “It is different for me,” he told her. “I can… feel lorcith. That is how I did so well in the mines. That is why I was attacked.”
“You can feel it?”
“I don’t know why.”
“I’ve never heard of such an ability.”
They had stopped walking. The air around them was still, nothing like the steady breathing in the mines, and almost heavy, as if damp. A hint of the bitterness of lorcith hung in the air, but Rsiran didn’t know if that was from the knives he carried or the palace. Somewhere far ahead came a faint blue glow, so dim that it was almost imagined.
“I think my father has it too. Maybe all the master smiths.” Rsiran shrugged. If only his father had told him more about that gift rather than chastising him for his ability to Slide.
Jessa grunted. “Must be why it is so hard to get an apprenticeship with the guild.”
“Probably why my father stuck with me as long as he did,” Rsiran realized. But if that was true, why had he wanted him to suppress it?
It was an ability that Rsiran did not fear. Other than nearly getting him killed in the mines, the ability to feel the lorcith, to hear its call, had guided his hands, helped with his forgings.
“Do you feel it now?”
Rsiran tried to feel for the lorcith sword the Elvraeth Josun had stolen from him. Only now was he starting to understand why he had felt it that night in the warehouse, the same reason he felt the knife when Haern had attacked him. The same reason he felt the knives in his pockets and tucked into his pants. He could feel lorcith he’d forged more strongly than any other. Perhaps something more, but he was almost afraid to test that.
“Not yet.”
Jessa sighed softly. “This won’t work if it’s not here. You might have to do what he asked after all. Deal with Josun later.”
“You think poisoning the council would be easier? You think helping a rebellion better?” he whispered.
Jessa led him forward, toward the soft blue glow. Only as it became brighter did she answer. “Easier than losing you.” Rsiran felt her shiver.
“You could always leave,” he suggested.
“What—sneak back out the door? Try to get across the lawn without one of the guards seeing me and firing at me? Climbing that wall to escape back into Elaeavn, only to sit and worry about what was happening to you? No. I stay with you.”
“Thank—”
He cut off as she jerked him back against the wall and clapped a hand across his mouth.
Down the passageway, there was movement, shadows sliding in front of the faint blue light. As he watched, one of the shadows moved closer.
“Rsiran—” Jessa whispered so softly that he almost didn’t hear it.
Hopefully whoever was coming toward them was not a Listener. Of course, if they were Elvraeth, they probably were.
Jessa kept a hand on his mouth and backed him down the hall.
He could see nothing, forced to trust whatever Jessa saw. His heart hammered. A Listener would know they were there simply by the sound of his breathing, the sound of his heartbeat. Someone Sighted wouldn’t even need that.
And they were in the Elvraeth palace. Everyone here had abilities stronger than his.
Rsiran felt completely out of his league. Why had he thought he could simply Slide into the palace?
Something loomed closer. Next to him, Jessa’s breathing quickened. Her hand slicked with sweat. She pushed him more urgently, unmindful of the noise.
Rsi
ran heard footsteps clearly now, padding softly but quickly along the stone of the corridor. They had been seen.
Haern was right. They would be captured. Exiled. Forgotten.
Shame came over him. Had he really thought he could break into the palace? Had he really thought he could out maneuver one of the Elvraeth?
Another thought hit him, one that should not bother him but still did.
Now his father would know that he was right. Would likely revel in the fact that he had been right to sentence him to the mines. Now he would not have to ever worry about remembering his son.
At best, Rsiran would be Forgotten. But there were other punishments, those he couldn’t Slide from. What if he were sentenced to death?
But not Jessa. He would not let that happen to Jessa. He would prove Haern wrong in that.
They needed to move. Even unable to see anything, he knew they needed to move.
There was only one thing he could do, but he had to be able to Slide.
Here, trapped in this building made of some strange lorcith alloy, he didn’t know if he could manage, but Rsiran knew he had to try.
Pressing his eyes closed, he focused, straining for lorcith, searching for one of his forgings. Footsteps came closer. Jessa squeezed his hand painfully. It had to be now.
Fear coursing through him seemed to give him strength.
There was a distant sense, but one still within the palace, like a pinprick in his mind.
Rsiran latched on, uncertain what he felt but daring to risk it.
Then he stepped into a Slide.
Chapter 33
The Slide was more difficult than any he had ever attempted. It felt like his skin tore as he pushed through a space too small. He held the distant sense firm in his mind. As he Slid, it became sharper, almost painful. Rather than the sense of rapid movement he was accustomed to feeling, he felt an oozing that reminded him of the folded metal knives. There was no sound of wind whipping through his ears. Only a heavy muted feeling.
And then it was over.
He staggered forward, caught only by Jessa still gripping his hand tightly. Had she felt the Slide the same way he had, felt the slow oozing, the pain of it as it almost tore the flesh of his body, or had it felt no different to her?
He took a few ragged breaths and finally opened his eyes.
He expected darkness, but instead saw a soft blue light. The light was similar to the orange glow deep within the mines that he had grown to hate, the never-ending persistence of the lantern, the unchanging lighting giving him no sense of night or day.
He looked over to Jessa. Her mouth was open as if to scream, but she shut it when she saw him looking.
“Are you okay?” he asked. His voice was hoarse. Fatigue unlike any he had ever felt swept through him, as if he had spent a full day hammering at the forge with the heavy mallet. Even if they managed to secure the sword and leave the poison behind as planned, he was not sure he could get them back out.
They would be trapped.
She shook her head. “They will know we’re here,” she answered.
“Maybe. But not who is here. Not yet, at least.” Rsiran didn’t know how much longer that would be the case. And even if they found him, could he explain to the council? Would they believe?
She closed her eyes and nodded. “We must hurry.”
He nodded, afraid to tell her it probably wouldn’t matter.
The room was unlike any he had ever seen. Well appointed, a plush carpet lined the floor, a luxury not found in most of the homes in Elaeavn. A blue lantern, the shape more ornate than the one in the mines, sat atop a table. Rsiran was not surprised to see that it was made of lorcith. Had he more time, he suspected he could even determine the smith who made it.
Next to the lantern, a small ledger lay open, tight lettering written upon the page in what appeared to be code. Or, Rsiran wondered, it might be a language unique to the Elvraeth. A small carafe of wine stood on the table next to the ledger. On either side of a large hearth sat a pair of chairs. A smokeless flame burned in the hearth, giving unnecessary warmth to the room. A tapestry that appeared to be some sort of map, Elaeavn marked along the bottom corner, hung opposite the fireplace.
Rsiran was shocked to see this wasn’t even sleeping quarters, but some sort of sitting room. A pair of large wooden doors along the far wall likely opened into the sleeping quarters. This room alone was nearly as large as his parents’ house.
Jessa flipped through the ledger and then slipped it into her pocket. She shot him a hard look. “If we make it out.”
“What if we’re caught?” Stealing would only add to their punishment.
“They have more than enough reason to banish us already.”
She said the words with a strength he found surprising. Not that he would underestimate Jessa.
“Where is it?” she whispered.
Rsiran looked around. He felt the presence of the sword nearby. Now that they were in these rooms—likely the rooms of the Elvraeth Josun—he knew the sword was near. He’d thought that the Slide would carry him to it, using it as an anchor of sorts. That it hadn’t meant he had nearly lost control of the Slide. He had risked not only himself, but Jessa.
He shivered at the thought.
“I’m not sure. Maybe through there?” He pointed toward the door.
Jessa approached the entry carefully and tried the handle. If any would be locked, it would be the door leading into this room. She twisted and pulled it open.
If Rsiran thought the sitting room ornate, the room on the other side was more impressive still. A massive bed took up most of the far wall. Nearly a dozen pillows stretched across the end of it. Luxurious linens in greens and blues covered the bed. Several tapestries hung along the wall, each made in different styles and only one seeming as if it was from Elaeavn. That tapestry caught Rsiran’s eye.
It looked to be a depiction of the Great Watcher sitting in the heavens, staring down at a sea of green. Within that sea of green, several bluish dots glowed. Rsiran felt a sense of movement around the dots, almost like bodies writhing between the green and blue. The effect was nauseating, and he tore his eyes away.
Along the back of the room was a tall chest. Another lantern sat atop the chest, the light glowing with a softer blue. A basin rested near the chest, clear water pooled inside it. A small faucet jutted out of the wall near the basin. Rsiran was not surprised that the Elvraeth had somehow piped water up to their rooms. Such as thing was incredibly expensive. For the Elvraeth, it seemed no cost was spared.
Resting near the basin was the long sword.
Rsiran felt it pull at him. The hilt atop the sword was new, jeweled as he had seen in the warehouse. He wondered if Josun had put an edge on the blade as well.
“There,” he said, and turned to Jessa.
Rsiran froze.
Josun stood next to Jessa, his hand over her mouth, her eyes wide and angry. A knife pushed up against her ribs, the tip poking through the fabric of her shirt. The flower that had been tucked into her shirt had fallen to the ground. Lavender petals spread across the ground, crushed under his boot.
“I see you have completed your demonstration,” Josun said.
All hint of friendliness had faded from his voice. In its place was a sense of violence, of barely controlled rage. His hand shifted, and the knife pushed deeper into Jessa’s side. Blood staining her shirt spread out in a dark smear.
“You stole my sword,” Rsiran said. Josun’s words sunk in. “Wait… what did you say?”
A wicked smile spread across his face. “The demonstration is complete.”
A sinking feeling settled into Rsiran. “No. We didn’t do your poisoning. We didn’t come to help with your rebellion. I came for my sword…”
A confused expression twisted Josun’s face. “Rebellion? Ah, so little you know, Lareth.” He pressed the tip of the knife into Jessa’s ribs and she stiffened. “And perhaps I’m mistaken. Perhaps the council was not poisoned tonight.”
He smiled again. “But if you did not, then I must wonder who else did? Who else carries whistle dust with them?”
“Whistle dust?” That must be the powder he had tucked into his pocket.
“Quite impressive how you managed to reach each member of the council in the same night. Only a master thief would manage that feat. Or another with a different ability.” He offered Rsiran a wolfish smile with a flash of teeth. “So maybe this will be a quiet rebellion as another council forms.”
Rsiran pulled the pouch out of his pocket. “We haven’t done anything to the council. We came to collect the sword. Nothing more.”
Jessa stood stiffly, terror in her eyes.
Rsiran wondered if he could Slide fast enough to help her. If it was anything like the last time he tried to Slide, he didn’t think it likely. Then he had been helped by his awareness of the sword, not fully knowing what it was that aided him.
“I’m not certain others will view it in the same light. Seers have a hard time with visions involving Sliding. All they will have seen is that someone Slid into the council chambers, and poisoned those within. Once they find you, they will not care to look for any other possibilities.” His wolfish smile widened. “It is unfortunate that I must dispose of her. She really is a skilled sneak.” He leered at Jessa. “Perhaps she could be useful in other ways.”
Jessa started to struggle, but the knife pressed against her again, and blood stained her shirt.
Rsiran shook his head, unable to believe what was happening. Why was he using them? What had they done to him?
“You?” Josun asked. “You think this is about you?”
Rsiran realized that he could Read him, even with his barriers in place. The thought made him shiver. “They’re your family.”
Josun tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Among the Elvraeth, everyone is family. Blood means little.” He leaned forward. “But… you were more right than you realized. This is but a beginning.”
The words seemed designed to pierce Rsiran. Josun was Reading him again.
Steeling his barriers, he strained to block Josun from his mind. Darkness clouded over Josun’s face, and Rsiran hoped he was successful. If only he had Brusus’s ability. If only he could Push Josun.
The Dark Ability Page 26
