Page 68 of Thorn Season
The first two bladesmiths on the list produced immediate failure; both flatly denied their ability to forge eurium blades and even refused my offered coin.
The third admitted her talent after I bribed her with half the contents of my purse—but my rising spirits sank once more when she didn’t recognize the knife. “Look again,” I kept insisting, thrusting the blade under her nose until she gave three coins back just to get me to leave.
With only two names left on the list and no other leads, I was already preparing for defeat as I trudged toward an ancient-looking smithy tucked into a narrow street. Heat and soot blew from the open doors with the sounds of crackling and ringing metal.
I removed my hood, and the oven-hot air dried my eyes. “I’m looking for Kevi Banday.”
A powerfully built woman in soot-stained overalls looked me up and down. “Kevi’s not here.” She gestured to another smith, whose arms shuddered with each thwack of his hammer. “But Owan does fine work.”
“Can Owan forge eurium?”
She sized me up again. “What’s a girl like you want with eurium?”
“Not much.” I withdrew the bundle from my pocket and uncovered the cleaned eurium knife. “I already have a specimen.”
She eyed the blade with far less interest than I’d expected. “That’s Kevi’s work, all right.”
My pulse skipped. “How can you tell?”
“Bonestone. Dawni architects build their towers from it. Kevi liked to bring it over from Dawning to make into handles.”
The memory flashed: spiraling white towers, dripping like candles across a breathtaking skyline. Though I hadn’t visited Dawning in years, I should’ve recognized the mineral.
“And this symbol?” I asked, newly animated. “Was it Kevi’s?”
“Never seen it before. But some buyers want motifs on their weapons—a fish for Avanford, a family crest for the highborns. If you want the meaning, you should ask whoever commissioned it.” A wry grin. “I’m guessing that wasn’t you.”
I bundled the knife back into my cloak. “I need to talk to Kevi.”
“Kevi left on a delivery two months ago. Haven’t heard from him since.”
“You didn’t find that unusual?”
She shrugged. “He came and went as he pleased, found work where he could. He traveled with his equipment, so I figured he went home to Dawning.”
“Did he leave his client list?”
“Client list? This isn’t a tearoom, love.”
“Do you know his address?”
She shook her head, laughing. “Didn’t even know his last name until you said it.”
I frowned, thanked her with a few gold pieces, and returned to the streets.
The sky now resembled a xerylite gemstone, black-blue and flecked with stars, and I entered an alley decorated with tattered hanging baskets.
Kevi had left Henthorn two months ago—which was when the copycats’ Huntings had increased. As though an influx of eurium weaponry had enabled them to pick up speed. Was the timing coincidental? Or was Kevi working for the copycats now, forging euriumblades to aid their butchery of Wielders?
And what about the roundish, swirling symbol he’d etched into the knife handle? The Hunters had their own mark: the two-tined crown. This symbol could be something new, an emblem specific to the copycats. Maybe it was crucial to finding the compass... or maybe it was meaningless, a pretty pattern Kevi had chosen on a whim.
I wouldn’t know until I found him. If Kevi wasn’t currently working for the copycats, he could at least tell me who’d commissioned my attacker’s blade—and perhaps give me a location, if he’d delivered the weapon himself.
But my specter squirmed with my growing uncertainty. If Tari’s father couldn’t rustle up more than a name, and that woman hadn’t known Kevi’s address... I didn’t know how I would locate the bladesmith, especially before the copycats slaughtered another Wielder.
Or before they realized I hadn’t heeded their warning... and they came to finish what they’d started.
I wrapped my cloak tight, a chill nipping my chest. With my eyes on the cobblestones, I didn’t notice the man staggering toward me until he seized my arm.
