Rise of the Elder Read online

  “As I said, I didn’t remove it.” If he could do the same with others of the Hjan, he might be able to end the battle much more easily. Somehow, the walls of this place created a buffer that allowed him to reach the lorcith, otherwise, he would not have been able to do so. Would he be able to find a way to do the same outside of the Forgotten Palace, or would he have to bring them all here?

  “It’s the same! When he discovers what you did—”

  “As I said, I don’t fear him.”

  The Hjan’s eyes widened. “You should. We all should. He’ll learn what you’ve done, and he’ll find some way to counter it. You’ll never be able to outsmart him.”

  Chapter 17

  Rsiran couldn’t stay in the cell with the Hjan anymore. The smell of lorcith clung to his nostrils, a strange heat to it that mixed with a bitter tang of blood. How much had he harmed the Hjan by trying to pull the lorcith from within his head? Without Della here, there wasn’t anything that he could do to heal him, and Rsiran wasn’t entirely certain that he would want to even if she were.

  He pulled himself from the cell.

  On the other side, Valn stood with his feet apart, his sword gripped tightly in hand. Jessa hunched over the door, her lock-pick set unrolled, and worked at the lock. When he appeared, she set the lock pick down and sighed.

  “When we heard the scream,” she said, a slight flush rising in her cheeks.

  Rsiran glanced to Valn, who shrugged. “Don’t look at me like that. I would have rushed in sooner, but she held me back. What took you so long?”

  “I made it so he couldn’t harm anyone again.”

  Valn studied the door, as if he could see through it, sheathing his sword. He started away from the cell, nodding toward the two guards. When he spoke, he lowered his voice. “What did you do—cripple him somehow?”

  Rsiran shrugged. “Essentially. I reforged the implant so he can’t use his Venass-given abilities.”

  “You reforged it?” Valn asked. “How did you heat… You used your connection to the metal to do that?”

  Rsiran nodded. “I think I can do the same with others, but I’d need for whatever protects them to be removed.”

  “What protects them?” Valn asked. “We’ve searched him more than once—” It was Valn’s turn for his cheeks to go a shade more red. “We had to know if he hid anything from us. We haven’t found anything on him, though it’s not for lack of trying.”

  With Amin, the connection had returned when they sliced open his flesh, revealing the plate, and with this other, the cell itself seemed to have released some of the protection that prevented Rsiran from accessing the plate and shifting the metal within it.

  Could it be shadowsteel?

  He had no connection to shadowsteel, but he knew Venass had used it to make the implants. That might even be how Danis gained extra abilities. If he could determine what they did, he might be able to counter it. He’d already seen how lorcith and heartstone could counter shadowsteel.

  It was a question for Ephram. The alchemist guildlord owed him those answers.

  “You don’t know what it is,” Jessa said.

  Rsiran shook his head. “I don’t know what it is. But it’s neutralized in the cell.”

  “Well, maybe you can neutralize what they do as well. With your connection to metal, it seems we should be able to be stronger than the damn Venass.”

  “We’re not going to use the metal the same way.”

  “You gave me these,” Valn said, holding the bracelets up, and shaking them. In the darkness of the hall, the faint bluish white glowing from them visible only to Rsiran. “Don’t you think there’s something else you can do?” Valn shrugged. “Anyway, glad you came and fixed our friend. Maybe he’ll be more cooperative.”

  “You should be ready. I might have others I’ll bring to you.”

  “Neutered or will you leave us something to play with?”

  Rsiran laughed. They reached the heartstone room and passed through. On the other side, Rsiran clasped Valn on the shoulder, then he Slid with Jessa to the smithy.

  Once there, he faced his forge.

  “What is it?” Jessa asked.

  “Something that Valn said.”

  “He’s pretty enough, but I don’t think he’s as pretty as you,” Jessa told him. “He doesn’t have the same strength as you have. Maybe if he spent a little more time hammering at metal, I might change my opinion…”

  Rsiran shot her a look and shook his head. “Why can’t I use lorcith to help augment my abilities?”

  “I thought you didn’t want to do anything that would mean you were no better than Venass?”

  “Not quite like that, but haven’t we already used lorcith and heartstone in something of the same way? We’ve used the bracelets, what would happen if I did something similar to try and augment my abilities?”

  Jessa shrugged. “You could try. Didn’t you say the lorcith had to agree to it?”

  That was part of the problem for Rsiran that Venass didn’t have. Rsiran wouldn’t force lorcith to take on shapes that it didn’t want to. Venass forced the metal, pushing it in ways the metal wouldn’t naturally go. Doing so took some of the strength from the metal, but it allowed them to use it in ways Rsiran couldn’t.

  “Maybe if I find the right piece.”

  He could spend some time in the mines and find a piece of lorcith that would respond to him in the way that he needed. The problem for him was that he didn’t know how he needed the lorcith to respond, but he could listen to the song and see if lorcith would react for him in a way that could be beneficial. Often, the metal knew what form it needed to take even more than he knew.

  “The mine?”

  Rsiran nodded. “You ready to return?”

  “It’s not my favorite—”

  “I thought you liked the darkness.”

  She jabbed him. “The darkness is fine, but you make me follow you through those tunnels.”

  “I Slide us through the tunnels.”

  Jessa rested her hand on his chest. “That’s the problem. You never pause and let us take advantage of the darkness.”

  Rsiran laughed softly. “I thought your time in the tunnels with Josun would have kept you from wanting to spend any more time there than needed.”

  “I always knew you’d come for me.”

  He took her hand and Slid to Ilphaesn.

  As they emerged in the wide-open area of the mine, Rsiran saw a flash of orange light.

  He Slid again, taking them deep into the mine, far below the usual places to mine.

  “What was that?” Jessa asked as they emerged.

  “A light. The mine is active again.”

  Some of the miners had returned, but that light was the same kind of light used when the Elvraeth controlled the mine. Could they have reopened Ilphaesn, once again using it to their own benefit, using prisoners as miners?

  “You don’t want to see what they’re up to?”

  Rsiran shook his head. As many times as he had returned to the mine, he hadn’t wanted to visit with any of the miners sentenced here. He had been happy to escape. Many of the men sentenced had been sent here because they were criminals, but now, he no longer knew how to feel about those sentenced.

  And lorcith wasn’t as rare as so many had believed before. The Miners’ Guild had controlled the flow to hold favor with the Elvraeth, and had prevented access to it in the past, but they could no longer deny the fact that lorcith overflowed Ilphaesn. It didn’t take much time in the mine to know how much ore remained. There was enough to keep the smiths busy for as long as they wanted. Lifetimes. Generations. And this wasn’t even the only place where lorcith could be found.

  “Let’s look here,” he said, starting along one of the narrow tunnels. The shafts in this section reached deep beneath the earth. Rsiran suspected they would eventually connect to the palace, or at least to the Aisl if he were able to follow them that far, but the one time he had, he had nearly gotten stuck. The wall
s of the tunnel had closed in around him, as if made for a much smaller person.

  Jessa took his hand as they walked along the tunnel. It wasn’t wide here, only enough for them to go side by side, and not much wider than that. The walls glowed with the soft white of lorcith, but he knew Jessa saw only shades of gray. A soft breeze blew through here, Ilphaesn’s breath, like that of the Great Watcher blowing past them.

  Rsiran focused on the connection to the lorcith, letting that sense surround him. The song came with it, and he focused on it, listening for pieces of lorcith that called to him more than others.

  Most of the lorcith here called to him in one way or another, but not all of the pieces called in quite the same way. Some were filled with a sense they didn’t care what form they took. Others wanted to remain within Ilphaesn, bound to the rock, and others created images of decorative items—that of bowls or pots or even statues. None of that was what he needed to find.

  What Rsiran wanted was lorcith that had something tied to him.

  As he wandered, he let his mind go blank. Doing so allowed the metal to guide him, to draw him. He held Jessa’s hand as he walked, pulling her along the tunnel with him. Neither of them spoke, and Rsiran appreciated her comfort in the silence. It allowed him to listen to the song, to hear the lorcith and search for what might work.

  After a while, he stopped. “There’s nothing here.”

  “Nothing? You’ve never struggled to find lorcith that would work for you before.”

  “This isn’t just about finding any piece of lorcith, this is finding one with a willingness to work with me.”

  “You didn’t have the same trouble with the bracelets.”

  He hadn’t, but that had been tied to a request, and as he searched through the tunnels, he hadn’t really sent a request to the lorcith.

  Could he?

  He focused on the song and the lorcith all around him, sending his need to it, feeding that into the song. What he needed was a way to get stronger working with lorcith. Not using it as an implant, but more like the bracelets. It would have to be attuned to him, and what he needed it for: to get stronger and to have a greater connection to the metal so that Danis couldn’t hurt him—or anyone he cared about—again.

  The song shifted.

  Rsiran heard it distantly and felt drawn to it.

  He Slid.

  When he emerged in a distant part of the mine and much deeper underground, the song of the lorcith reverberated most strongly here. He could feel it racing through him, filling him, energizing him. He could barely stand, his head brushing the top of the tunnel, and Jessa squeezed against him, gripping his hand firmly.

  This was the piece.

  Rsiran pulled on the lorcith, expecting significant resistance, but the piece came from the wall with the barest of sound.

  He caught it and was surprised to find it was nothing more than a tiny piece of lorcith, small enough for him to cup within his hand.

  “What is it?” Jessa asked. “I can’t see anything this deep, only gray.”

  He set the piece in her hand.

  “This is what you came all the way down here for?” she asked.

  He slipped it into his pocket. The piece sang more loudly to him than most, and there was the way that he felt when its particular contribution to the song flowed through him. “I think so.”

  “Can you find one for me?”

  He hadn’t considered it, but why couldn’t he? Hadn’t he made her and the others bracelets? It was possible he could use the connection to lorcith to do the same with other things, wasn’t it? Could lorcith grant Jessa abilities the same way that it had granted them to Venass?

  Shifting his attention to the call of the lorcith once more, he focused on what he wanted from it. This was not only a desire to find lorcith that could pair with Jessa, but lorcith that would help her, would strengthen her in some way. The steady call of lorcith changed again, and once more he Slid, emerging higher within Ilphaesn, almost to where the miners worked.

  When he pulled the piece from the wall, it was larger than the other. He held it out, studying it, and when Jessa took it from him, the song surged.

  “Can you feel it?” he asked.

  The lump of lorcith was about the size of her fist, and heavy enough that she had to hold onto it carefully. “I don’t feel anything. Am I supposed to?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t even know if this will work, but we can find out.”

  “What do you expect?”

  He shook his head. The piece that he’d found for himself, the one that was smaller, wouldn’t be able to make anything of much size. When he got back to his smithy, he could heat it and see what shape it would take. With Jessa’s, there were more options. The larger size could take on a knife or part of a sword, but he had the sense it didn’t want to form either of those.

  “I don’t know what to expect. I’ve not gone looking for lorcith in quite this way before. Whatever I make out of these will only be attuned to you and me.” But would it be enough to counter what Venass did with the metals?

  Chapter 18

  The pieces of lorcith were set off to the side, and the coals of Rsiran’s forge glowed with a renewed warmth. Jessa leaned on the table rather than lying on the bed, watching him intently. A lantern glowed with a soft blue light, giving off enough light for Jessa’s Sight. With all the lorcith in the smithy, Rsiran didn’t need any additional light.

  “You don’t have to watch,” he said.

  “I want to see what you make.”

  The same curiosity she felt surged within him. What shape would the lorcith take when he heated it? This wouldn’t be a forging where he’d tell the lorcith what he wanted. He’d already told the metal what he needed; now he had to learn what it would help him make.

  “Then you can help—”

  He looked up.

  Had that been a flutter of heartstone?

  He hadn’t paid much attention to heartstone lately, especially since he’d convinced himself there weren’t any Hjan or Venass remaining in the city, at least none with lorcith or heartstone. He still didn’t know whether any with shadowsteel remained, but doubted many would risk themselves in the city. The Hjan using shadowsteel were too valuable to Danis for him to leave them isolated in Elaeavn and risk Rsiran attacking them.

  The sense fluttered again.

  It was nearby. Near enough that he couldn’t wait to see what might have caused it.

  “Stay here.”

  He pulled a dozen knives to himself and Slid.

  When he emerged, he was near the row of warehouses. The darkness of night swirled around him, reminding him of Carth and the way that darkness seemed to love her. He stood in the middle of the street, waiting for another flash of heartstone, but detected nothing.

  What had he sensed? Rsiran knew there had been something there, but now it was gone. If one of the Hjan had come to Elaeavn, he would either capture him, or chase him from the city.

  There was a flicker, but nothing more than that, and not enough for him to act upon.

  Rsiran drifted down the street, making his way between shadows. He saw nothing that told him what else might be here, nothing that alerted him to a greater threat.

  As he walked, a shadow moved in the distance.

  Rsiran Slid toward the shadow. At night in Elaeavn, many different kinds of people were out, so finding someone here didn’t necessarily mean there was anything to worry about, but the streets had been quiet, and finding anyone tonight—especially after he’d detected Sliding—made him leery.

  He watched as the figure continued to make his way along the street. He passed the Wretched Barth, the sound of music drifting out, and he paused and considered going inside to see how Brusus was handling the reopening, but his curiosity was piqued, and he wanted to follow this person. Beyond the Barth, the shadow turned, heading down a small alleyway.

  Rsiran hesitated. He should get Jessa, and at least have her Sight, but if he did, he might lose
track of this person. Something about the direction bothered him, though he couldn’t quite place what it was.

  Another turn. A cat meowed nearby.

  Rsiran shivered, old superstitions returning.

  Then the person paused at a house.

  Rsiran’s heart fluttered as the person entered.

  He knew the place and had been there many times, but it should have been empty, abandoned since the attack on the city: Della’s home.

  Rsiran Slid inside the home, knowing it as well as he knew his smithy, and emerged to see the figure standing over the counter sorting through Della’s collection of leaves and herbs, a collection that had once seemed incredibly complicated. The person standing there seemed comfortable, and quickly worked along the line of bottles as he took what he needed.

  Galen.

  Where was the woman?

  If Galen had returned without Cael, then where was the crystal? And why would he have returned to Della’s home?

  Galen spun, readying something in his pocket.

  Rsiran Slid slightly to the side, emerging with knives ready to push. Galen ducked behind a shelf, as if that would protect him from Rsiran if he sent knives at him. Maybe it would. But if Galen had his darts at the ready… He had nearly stopped Rsiran once, and it wouldn’t surprise him if he managed a second time.

  “I have not come to kill you, Galen.”

  “Lorst?”

  Rsiran sniffed. The name was not one he could claim, but Galen didn’t know, and didn’t need to know. It had served the purpose so far, one that had allowed him to discover what happened to the crystal, even if he hadn’t managed to return it quite yet.

  Yet… Galen believed him to be Lorst, not Rsiran. Until he had the crystal, he had to ensure the deception remained. Later, he could explain the truth.

  What would Lorst say?

  Rsiran struggled with the answer, trying to think about the person Carth had created for him, the assassin who would hunt for money. That wasn’t him, but Galen couldn’t know that.

  But Rsiran might need to share some of the truth, or Galen might be provoked to attack. Until Rsiran knew where the girl had gone—and the crystal—he needed to help him.