today.”
Seval frowned. “Isn’t it? Thought maybe the alchemists… Doesn’t matter. I stopped figuring I knew what others would do when I was abducted from Elaeavn. Damn Forgotten thought to use us, thinking to make us create those horrible piercings. Not the kind of thing that most of us knew how to make.”
Rsiran hadn’t realized that they had been asked to make the piercings, but it made sense, especially with what he’d seen from Inna and the others working with her. “I’m sorry they took you from your home.”
“Not the worst of it for me,” Seval said. “Others had it worse. Besides, I’m tougher than most.” He flashed a smile. “What did bring you here, if not a desire to show off how much more skilled you are with lorcith than I am?”
When Rsiran arched his brow at the comment, Seval laughed. “Just lorcith. Can’t say that you have the same skill with other metals until I see it for myself. But with that… damn, you certainly can outdo my attempts. That’s practically art like the ancient smiths used to make. The kind that they have up in the palace.”
Rsiran made a point to remember that he would need to visit the palace and see some of the work of the ancient smiths. Then he might be able to see how skilled they were and if there was anything that he could do that could replicate their work.
He fished the medallion out of his pocket and handed it to Seval. “What can you tell me about this?” he asked.
Seval took the medallion, held it out, and cocked his head to the side. Rsiran wondered if he was Sighted and used the ability to gauge what had gone into the creation of the medallion, but he couldn’t tell, and he wasn’t about to ask him if he was. That wasn’t the kind of question you asked. The longer Seval held the medallion, Rsiran began to wonder if maybe he listened to the lorcith in it, much like the way Rsiran did.
“Surprised you didn’t recognize this.”
“Why?”
“You don’t see the details?”
Rsiran shook his head. “I’m not Sighted.”
“Don’t have to be, I expect. You’ve got a connection to lorcith that should tell you all you need to know about this piece.”
Jessa took the medallion and held it up. “What is it? Why should Rsiran recognize this?”
Seval studied her for a moment and nodded to the medallion.
“Because his grandfather is the one who made it.”
Chapter 6
R siran sat in front of his forge, watching the red coals as they softly cooled. This was a place of comfort to him. He was surrounded by lorcith and heartstone alloy protections he’d put in place, using forgings that had come from his hand, crafted with a sense of urgency and the desire to keep Jessa and him safe. Every time that he left here, he wondered if he would be able to return, and whether he would find the same safety when he did.
A pair of knives rested on the anvil, shaped by him as he had worked the forge. They were small—ideal for pushing —and were born from a request to the metal to allow him to make the shapes needed for the knives to fly true. He’d made knives like these before, often enough that he knew they would be perfect for what he needed, but had added a little extra heft to the handle of the knife in case he needed to use it in a different way. Fighting off the man who had attacked Alyse made him realize that cutting with the knife might not always be the best solution. There might be times when he simply needed to knock someone out. He could push with significant force behind the lorcith, enough to incapacitate but not kill.
He had hoped that spending time working would help clear his head. Usually, when he worked at the forge, he found that he was able to think more clearly, but after meeting with Seval, and his comments about the guild, his mind practically buzzed. For the first time, the forge hadn’t helped, probably because it was the reason his mind raced.
The door to the smithy opened and he spun quickly, Sliding to it. He
Seval frowned. “Isn’t it? Thought maybe the alchemists… Doesn’t matter. I stopped figuring I knew what others would do when I was abducted from Elaeavn. Damn Forgotten thought to use us, thinking to make us create those horrible piercings. Not the kind of thing that most of us knew how to make.”
Rsiran hadn’t realized that they had been asked to make the piercings, but it made sense, especially with what he’d seen from Inna and the others working with her. “I’m sorry they took you from your home.”
“Not the worst of it for me,” Seval said. “Others had it worse. Besides, I’m tougher than most.” He flashed a smile. “What did bring you here, if not a desire to show off how much more skilled you are with lorcith than I am?”
When Rsiran arched his brow at the comment, Seval laughed. “Just lorcith. Can’t say that you have the same skill with other metals until I see it for myself. But with that… damn, you certainly can outdo my attempts. That’s practically art like the ancient smiths used to make. The kind that they have up in the palace.”
Rsiran made a point to remember that he would need to visit the palace and see some of the work of the ancient smiths. Then he might be able to see how skilled they were and if there was anything that he could do that could replicate their work.
He fished the medallion out of his pocket and handed it to Seval. “What can you tell me about this?” he asked.
Seval took the medallion, held it out, and cocked his head to the side. Rsiran wondered if he was Sighted and used the ability to gauge what had gone into the creation of the medallion, but he couldn’t tell, and he wasn’t about to ask him if he was. That wasn’t the kind of question you asked. The longer Seval held the medallion, Rsiran began to wonder if maybe he listened to the lorcith in it, much like the way Rsiran did.
“Surprised you didn’t recognize this.”
“Why?”
“You don’t see the details?”
Rsiran shook his head. “I’m not Sighted.”
“Don’t have to be, I expect. You’ve got a connection to lorcith that should tell you all you need to know about this piece.”
Jessa took the medallion and held it up. “What is it? Why should Rsiran recognize this?”
Seval studied her for a moment and nodded to the medallion.
“Because his grandfather is the one who made it.”
Chapter 6
R siran sat in front of his forge, watching the red coals as they softly cooled. This was a place of comfort to him. He was surrounded by lorcith and heartstone alloy protections he’d put in place, using forgings that had come from his hand, crafted with a sense of urgency and the desire to keep Jessa and him safe. Every time that he left here, he wondered if he would be able to return, and whether he would find the same safety when he did.
A pair of knives rested on the anvil, shaped by him as he had worked the forge. They were small—ideal for pushing —and were born from a request to the metal to allow him to make the shapes needed for the knives to fly true. He’d made knives like these before, often enough that he knew they would be perfect for what he needed, but had added a little extra heft to the handle of the knife in case he needed to use it in a different way. Fighting off the man who had attacked Alyse made him realize that cutting with the knife might not always be the best solution. There might be times when he simply needed to knock someone out. He could push with significant force behind the lorcith, enough to incapacitate but not kill.
He had hoped that spending time working would help clear his head. Usually, when he worked at the forge, he found that he was able to think more clearly, but after meeting with Seval, and his comments about the guild, his mind practically buzzed. For the first time, the forge hadn’t helped, probably because it was the reason his mind raced.
The door to the smithy opened and he spun quickly, Sliding to it. He
Similar Books
