Free The Heartstone Blade (The Dark Ability Book 2) by D.K. Holmberg Page B

crates from the warehouse. Unlike those in the warehouse, these were small enough that they could be easily loaded onto the ship. Rsiran wished for the lantern so he could see.
    “Close it,” Jessa whispered.
    Rsiran closed the door and was plunged into darkness.
    For once, he’d like to sneak someplace with Jessa where he had the advantage, but here in the dark, unable to see anything, he felt as helpless as the babe she always teased him of being. He heard her moving in the darkness, heard a soft rustling and the quiet squeal of nails pried free from a box, and then nothing.
    Just like the night before when they had been in the warehouse, the darkness raised his awareness of the lorcith. He sensed the knives in his pockets and those that Jessa carried. He felt the soft sense of the charm he’d given her. And something else.
    “Jessa,” he whispered.
    He felt her coming toward him as an awareness of the lorcith.
    “I know.”
    “There are some of my forgings here.”
    “I know.”
    Rsiran tried to remember when Brusus had last shipped a collection of his lorcith from the city. Had it been a few weeks? He sensed more than just bowls and decorative pieces. Knives were here as well. Each pulled on his senses in such a way that he could tell where they were in the hold.
    But something else felt strange. Not just forged lorcith was here.
    Rsiran listened, heard the soft call of the metal, different from the sense he had once he had shaped it. This reminded him of the mines, of the way the lorcith demanded he pull it from the rock surrounding it. There was not an insignificant quantity here.
    Jessa moved away from him. In spite of the darkness, he felt the lorcith she carried with her and knew where she was. He heard her open another crate and then sucked in a soft breath. “Firell isn’t supposed to have this,” she muttered.
    Rsiran wasn’t certain she spoke to him.
    He stepped forward, drawn by the lump lorcith. He felt the crate that stored it, ran his hands overtop the surface, wondering what it meant that Firell would have so much. Was this what Brusus planned? Was this some way of increasing his production?
    But where would Firell have gotten so much?
    Jessa moved along the wall, opening crate after crate. Rsiran wondered if she sealed them after she inspected their contents but didn’t ask. Moving undetected in the darkness was her area of expertise, and he knew better than to challenge her. That he could sense her in the darkness comforted him. At least he didn’t feel completely blind.
    As she worked to open a crate near the door, a clump sounded above him.
    Footsteps. Someone had returned.
    Jessa rustled through another crate and then hurried over to him, taking his hand.
    “We should go,” he whispered.
    “Not yet. Need to see if anyone is with Firell.”
    “Does it matter?”
    “Yes.”
    He wondered why but didn’t argue. He doubted it would do any good anyway.
    Jessa pulled the door open silently and crept out the door and into the hall. He clung tightly to her hand. If he let go, their chance to easily Slide to safety disappeared.
    She moved carefully up the stairs. Rsiran heard voices on the deck, but the wind carried the sound away so that he couldn’t tell who spoke. He squeezed Jessa’s hand, reassured by her calm movement. His heart fluttered nervously about being caught on the ship. Firell might be their friend, but what they were doing now—creeping around his ship without his permission—did not feel quite right.
    Near the top of the stairs, Jessa froze, partly peering out of the darkness. Rsiran stood behind her, hand around her waist, ready to Slide if needed.
    “You do be sure he don’t know?”
    Rsiran recognized Shael’s voice and frowned.
    “I do be sure,” Firell answered.
    “When can you be gettin’ to there?”
    “A week. Maybe longer, depending on the seas. No worries.”
    Shael laughed. “You know it be my nature to worry. How you be thinking I last so long in your