Page 62 of Vathia
He sighs dramatically and takes off again. My eyes shut briefly as I shake my head in amusement. I swear this obsession has only got worse since we’ve attended Phixmery.
Jesper threads his fingers through mine and pulls us down the trail, while the others stay closely behind. It doesn’t take long before we arrive at the blacksmith and the smell of slightly sweet yet acrid smoke.
Aemon knocks on the wooden door and a haggard elder fae male pops the door open with a scowl set on his face. “You’re late,” he mutters. “Is this the female who wants one of your fancy-arse swords?” His eyes roam over me, not in a leering way, but more curiosity.
“This is my mate,” Aemon announces with pride. “She—”
He waves him off. “You said she was important. Mate or not, it takes a lot of work and magick for this kind of metalwork. She’s tiny, I doubt she’ll be able—”
Jesper moves before I can blink, pinning the male to the doorframe with a blade to his throat. “Thatfemaleis the missing princess,” he hisses. “Princess Maeven Pendroko of Maleen, last Gallalaus fae, and she is our mate. Yes,allof us. I would watch your tongue if I were you, or I’ll cut it out of your mouth. You don’t need a tongue for your craft.” He presses the knife into his neck more and I watch in morbid fascination as a bead of ruby red blossoms and rolls down his neck.
The blacksmith’s eyes widen in shock as he glances between the four of us. “My apologies Princess Maeven. Please forgive me,” he stutters, even though his gaze seems to be full of skepticism.
“Please, call me Ravina. I don’t go by Maeven anymore,” I tell him.
“It’s part of your birthright,” Aemon states into my mind. “There’s no shame in taking that name again.”
My heart seizes as I glance over at him. His gaze would be unnerving if I didn’t know who he was, but I do. “There’s too much darkness linked with that name. Just leave it be. Please,” I add firmly.
He stares a moment longer before his head dips so slightly no one but me would have caught it. “Can we get on with this?” he asks, addressing the blacksmith again. “I’m sure you heard what is happening on the border, and I won’t be sending my mate anywhere near there without a proper weapon.”
The male straightens. “We will have to work into the night, but by morning you’ll be able to head north.” He opens the door fully and gestures for us to join him inside.
I take a breath and enter. The aroma I scented outside is much stronger in here—and it’s humid. Anvils, vices, hammers and various other tools are strewn about, and the forge is glowing bright with orange flames.
“I hope you don’t mind doing hard work, your majesty,” he says gruffly. “This will only work with you infusing your magick into the blade as we craft it.”
“But I don’t know how to forge a sword, or anything!” I say, slightly panicked, glaring at my mates.
He nods as if it’s obvious. “I’m here to do most of the heavy lifting. You just need your magick and a good swinging arm.”
Jesper chuckles from behind me and my glare narrows. They knew—they could have at least warned me.
I straighten my spine. A little hard work and pain is nothing. I’ve been through worse and I think I would take more pride in this weapon if I had a hand in crafting it. “Where do we start?” I grin eagerly.
Surprise lights up the male’s eyes as he tosses an apron at me. “Well first we need some shadow flame. Best call your dragon, if you are who you say you are.”
I smirk.“Vasari, want to light something on fire?”
Her excitement comes through our bond. “Are you finally tired of your familiar?”
My eyes roll, unable to help it. “No, we’re crafting me a sword.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
FOR HOURS I'VE SAT IN silence, watching Ravina hammer the red-hot metal with a look of grim determination. Sweat pours off her brow and her skin is dirtied by ash and grime, yet she’s never looked more beautiful. Seeing her work with weapons like this is doing something to me—I want to touch her… and I want her to touch me, too.
The few times we have touched, the normal pain, fear and anger wasn’t present. It’s given me some hope, but I can’t risk hurting her. It would end me. Though this infernal urge to wrap the tiny warrior up in my arms is becoming almost unbearable the longer I’m around her. I should stay away… I really should but I can’t, no matter how much I try.
“You need to hit the metal harder. This is dragonstone, not plain old silver or iron,” the blacksmith coaches her.
Sparks fly as she hits her blade again, the tiny specks of flame changing colour each time she infuses a bit more of her magick into the sword.
I know she was annoyed we didn’t tell her about her part in this, but with all the ears in the castle we didn’t want to, just in case. Somehow the magick in the swords makes it easier to use, like it works in tune with our magick types. With my VopnFö magick infused into mine, it makes me almost invincible. Aemon’s blade can hold shadows for himself to use; it’s why he can shadow small amounts in the sun when he has his blade on him. Jesper’s sword can duplicate, making it seem like an illusion though it’s not. While Talyn can use the elements on his sword—he prefers flames though, with and without his blade.
It makes me wonder what her weapon will be able to do when it’s finished. After we check out the front lines, we will have to get her to test it out, maybe at our old haunt on the islands not far from here. But that will have to wait until our families make it safely to Vathia.
Fear and hope at seeing my mother almost overwhelm me before I shove it deep into the box in the back of my mind. That’s not something I need to think about right now.
