“Right, but we can't just let these Krah proceed to the workshop,” added Kaleb, motioning to the building. “If something happens to Haemon, we're in trouble. In fact, we can't even afford to let them slow down his work. We're on a pretty tight schedule as it is.”
“Furthermore, there's no telling how much longer the barriers will hold,” said the First. “We may have to deal with more than just Krah wandering this way before too long.”
Minx climbed up the hill and went searching for the Krah herself. She squinted in the pale moonlight, seeking the clan of lizard-men, and found them still a good distance away. She stayed low to the ground to avoid being sighted herself, and then called out to Mau. I have an idea, but it's risky. Are you there, Mau?
A risky plan, you say? Boy, I don't think you've ever come up with one of those, quipped the Faelyr. Yes, I'm listening. What do you have in mind?
If you intercept the group and send them into a frenzy, you may be able to lead them away from here. They're coming toward the hill, but they're taking their time. We don't want to eliminate them—at least, not right away—for fear that Torrent will send even more. So, if we can delay them a little and knock them off course, they might return to their base camp without the intel they came looking for. Get it?
I understand where you're coming from, replied Mau. But there are twelve of them. You know that, right? I'm as fast as anything on four legs, but you're asking a lot!
It was Minx's turn for a bit of sass. Oh, so you can't do it, then? Sorry, I must have overestimated you, Mau. You're right—it would be far too dangerous for you to take on. I guess we'll have to think of something else.
The Faelyr growled. Appealing to my pride, huh? That's a new low. Suppose I lead these scaly chumps away from here—chase them back to wherever they came from. What then?
Hopefully the rest of the night will be quiet, replied Minx. Are you up to it?
Mau was silent for a beat. I'll give it my best, she finally replied. But you'd better tell that blacksmith to hurry up. If I put my fur on the line and he doesn't have some weapons made by morning I'm going to rip him to shreds.
Fair enough, said Minx. Realizing the danger in this mission, she hastened to add, And please, be careful, Mau. She climbed back down the hill and breathed a great sigh of relief. “OK, I've come up with a different plan. Mau is going to try and run them off. They aren't close yet, so if she approaches the group and scatters them, they may run back to camp without collecting any valuable information.”
The First smiled. “A diversionary tactic? Yes, that's good thinking. And if those Krah return to Torrent empty-handed after having been chased away by an animal, they're liable to be executed for their failure. Either way, we shouldn't have to worry about them.”
“Can Mau really handle a group that big?” asked Kaleb, his voice tinged with concern.
Minx was worried about the same thing, but had faith in the Faelyr. She was a powerful beast, more than capable in battle. However difficult the odds, she knew that Mau would give it her best shot—and that she'd manage a retreat if things proved too dangerous. “I think she'll be fine. If things go south, she'll let me know and we can reevaluate.”
There was a great hiss from within the workshop as Haemon quenched the new blade once again. The First stepped into the building to check on the blacksmith's progress. “Well, how goes it? Is everything on track?”
Thom lifted the length of flattened metal from the cauldron and returned it to the anvil where Haemon waited with his hammer in hand. “It's coming along nicely. This stuff is difficult to work with, but it'll make a tremendous sword when it's finished. There's enough left for twenty or thirty arrowheads as well. I have Thom starting work on those. They need to be carefully-shaped. They'll probably be done before the sword.” Sweat dripped from his chin and his face was stained with grime. His assistant, too, was covered in soot and his clothes stuck to his body on account of perspiration.
“Excellent,” replied the First. “Please, let us know if there's anything else we can do to hasten the process.” He offered the two of them a pull from his own water skin and then rejoined Minx and Kaleb on the hillside. “Torrent may suspect that something of great import is happening here, but if we're careful, he won't catch on till it's too late. When the weapons are completed, we will amass our forces—as many men as we can muster—and march into their midst. We will bring the fight directly to the Dark Mage and crush him at first light!” Despite repeated losses and an embarrassing showing against Torrent, the First's spirits had risen noticeably. Like the others, he had begun to put a good deal of stock into these weapons.
He wants us to march on Torrent's army? That's pretty risky... thought Minx. The dark army dwarfed the remaining forces of the Fae many times over; to attempt a head-on attack would likely be disastrous. She held her tongue, however. Nothing would come of arguing over the specifics just then, and anyway, her allegiance to the First remained firm. She and all the other Fae were required to obey him, and his leadership during this crisis had solidified her trust in his authority. If he really thinks we can pull off a win that way, then so be it.
Kaleb studied the sky narrowly, yawning. “Is it just me, or does it feel like this night will never end?”
Creeping to the top of the hill to survey the distance and search out Mau, she chuckled. “As long as Torrent keeps his distance, you won't hear me complain.” The group of Krah raiders was no longer visible near the borderline, and Mau, too was not in sight. Their plan had apparently worked; the Faelyr had chased off the lizard-men and secured the area for awhile longer. She hoped that Mau was doing all right, that she hadn't gotten in over her head.
And she hoped, too, that no other dark warriors would come.
Next time, whether Torrent sends ten or a hundred men, we'll have no choice but to answer the threat with force.
Chapter 23
The long night stretched on and on, and in its depths the Fae watchmen grew tired. The warriors posted around the workshop began to nod off at their posts, and even the First, worn out for a day of constant battle and patrolling, began dozing in the shadow of the building. Minx, having settled on the hilltop to keep a lookout for Mau, inadvertently fell asleep in the grass, her body bathed in moonlight. Only Kaleb, pacing madly from one side of the workshop to the other, maintained anything like proper wakefulness in the wee small hours.
The blacksmiths, invigorated by their arduous work, kept working without pause. It was largely the steady cadence of their hammer blows that kept Kaleb moving. He stepped in time with the ringing of the anvil, used the noise to anchor himself in the waking world even as everyone else around him began to give in to sleep.
Tell it to me straight, Winterlimb. Is this sword going to do the trick? Will it really defeat Torrent? Everything else we've thrown at this guy has failed in a big way. I love Minx, it's true... and she loves me, too. But that love hasn't helped us defeat him in the past... As he paced, he did everything in his power to reach out to the wise old tree, to wrench answers from the silent ancient. It was a fruitless exercise, however—as usual, Winterlimb was unresponsive. What am I supposed to do with you? You drop this lump of old metal in my lap and expect me to use it to slay the greatest evil Aleio has ever known. That's just unfair!
The dragon shifter reflected on Minx's words—on the visions she'd had about the ancient world, where dragons and Fae had once been close. He wondered whether the world could ever return to such an innocent state as that. The population of the Fae had been decimated; though exact numbers were not yet available, some among them maintained that more than half of their people had fallen in the recent troubles. His own people weren't faring so well, either. The shadow spider virus was likely running rampant throughout the Talon Range. When last he'd been there, only six scouts had suffered from the mysterious illness; since then, he'd encountered still others on the shores of Heilo Lake, and knew that more had likely been infected since he'd taken his leave.
&nb
sp; I wonder how father is doing, he thought. The last time he'd seen his father, he'd been in a foul mood—forced to take part in a celebratory banquet celebrating his bravery in defending the Fae. His father, always stubborn, had utterly refused to entertain thoughts of a partnership between the Fae and the dragons. Had his father known ahead of time about the dark malady that would soon infiltrate the Talon Range, perhaps he would have reconsidered his position on such an alliance.
If, in fact, they were successful in defeating Torrent, Kaleb promised himself that he would dedicate his life to repairing the rift between dragons and Fae. Returning to that peace and brotherhood enjoyed by both peoples long ago would be his chief priority. The two races had been close, once. He would see to it that they were close again—and he would spend the rest of his life with a Fae, too, if he had any say in it.
Minx... He peered up at the dozing Fae huntress on the hilltop. She'd been through so much during this war. Though he could never hope to replace all she'd lost, or to fully erase the pain of these dark days, he would dedicate himself to building a happy future with her. The tensions between their races would not get in the way; he would no longer let anything stand between them. Once, after the first great battle outside the walls of the Trading Center, he had departed from her—returned to the Talon Range. He had thought of her ceaselessly during that separation, and had been delighted when she'd sought him out of her own volition.
He would never leave her side again, when this was through. Of that much he was certain.
A rustling in the grass alerted him to a new presence, and he turned on his heels just in time to see a tired Mau lumbering toward him. The panting Faelyr looked as though she'd completed her assignment without serious injuries; her fur was tousled and her paws seemed a bit shaky, but she was otherwise unscathed. “Oh, hey, Mau,” offered Kaleb, kneeling down in the grass to pet her.
The Faelyr allowed him to run his hands through her fur for only a brief moment before promptly flopping down into the grass for a rest. The look in her tired eyes told him that she was too fatigued for his pleasantries. She stretched her limbs, loosed a yawn, and dozed off in the moonlight within moments.
“So, I guess everyone gets to sleep out here but me, eh?” he muttered to himself. In order to stave off the temptation to lay down in the grass, Kaleb stepped into the workshop to gauge the blacksmith's progress. “How goes it?” he asked the two men.
Haemon had just finished dropping the blade into the cauldron, and was now taking a short break. His arms trembled for the nigh ceaseless hammering of the past few hours, and he was positively drenched in sweat. He walked to the doorway to drink in a bit of the night air and wiped at his brow with the back of his hand. “It's going. I think Thom there has a handful of arrowheads ready, if you'd like to see them.”
Right on cue, the young assistant brought over several sharpened arrowheads made of the mysterious silver metal in his cupped hands. “I'm not through yet,” he warned. “I have another fifteen or so to go, and these will need sharpened. But this material will make a fine arrowhead, I'm sure. We have some stock shafts in the workshop that I can fasten them to once they've been fully shaped and sharpened.”
Kaleb took one between his fingers and examined it in the moonlight. He was dazzled at once by the young apprentice's skill—though unfinished, the arrowhead in his grasp had been masterfully shaped. No tool marks were apparent in the metal, and a quick scan of the others revealed them all to be of uniform dimensions. Thom was well on his way to becoming a master blacksmith himself, it was clear. “Excellent work,” he said, testing the point against one of his fingers. It was already quite sharp, nearly piercing his skin with a bit of pressure. When they had been fully honed and given to Minx, he had no doubt that they would be incredibly effective. “Torrent won't know what hit him!”
He allowed the artisans to get back to work, exiting the workshop and taking a stroll around the side of the hill. He stared off into the distance, puzzling over the dark army's movements. I know they're out there. Torrent isn't going to let up. They're going to keep attacking the barrier until it falls, and when it does—day or night—they'll rush in to deal the finishing blow. Will it last till morning? Will the shields remain until we have these new weapons in hand?
He had faced off against Torrent in battle a number of times, and each occasion had seen him soundly defeated. Though thrilled at the prospect of these weapons, he still wasn't sure he'd be able to go the distance against such a powerful foe. And there was another problem; even if they succeeded in defeating Torrent, the remnants of the dark army would still need dealt with in some way.
What would happen if Torrent fell but his army fought on? How great were their numbers? Could he and the remaining Fae really hope to drive them off? For all he knew, countless Krah, Plurn and other creatures still filled Torrent's ranks. It was possible that the defeat of their general would have a devastating effect on them, but it seemed plausible, too, that they would continue fighting to the last man—and that latter possibility was chilling because Kaleb wasn't sure they could handle a prolonged struggle against a full army.
Only time would tell, of course. I guess we'll see what the morning brings.
Kaleb climbed the hill and sat down beside Minx. From there, he kept as close a watch as he could, counting away the hours by the steady ringing of the anvil.
Chapter 24
Minx snapped awake.
Something in her surroundings had changed.
Minx sat upright and gasped, scanning her surroundings and reaching instinctively for her bow.
After a moment, she was able to relax. There were no threats to speak of—just a snoring dragon shifter parked beside her in the grass. The sun had begun to rear its head and the clouds were being driven away by a strong wind.
That wasn't all.
The hammering had stopped.
It had been this lack of hammering that had awakened her. All through the night, she'd listened to the blacksmith's work. It had been jarring, at first, but after a time she'd grown used to it—had even found a measure of comfort in it. Now that it had ceased, she felt its absence.
Minx slid down the hill. Outside the workshop, she found a few bleary-eyed Fae warriors slumped against the side of the building. The First had settled near the hill and was presently asleep; Mau wasn't far away, similarly stretched out in the grass. Apparently, at some point in the night after she'd drifted off, Kaleb had come to the top of the hill and joined her. They had been protected by the Fae warriors, who'd taken patrol shifts and monitored the area overnight. Aside from their problems with Krah, the night had passed peacefully enough.
Entering the workshop, she found Haemon sitting against the doorway on a stool, nodding off. Thom, the young assistant, was sweeping the floors and putting away a number of tools. He greeted her with a wave and motioned to a small table in the corner. “We're all set.”
Minx stopped before the table and studied the items crowding its surface. For a long while, she was at a loss for words. The glistening of the metal in the new daylight was too gorgeous to easily sum up, and the incredible craftsmanship of the completed weapons far surpassed her wildest expectations. Only a hushed “wow” escaped her lips as she reached out and took an arrow in her hand.
Minx took a close look at the glimmering arrowhead and tested the heft of the completed arrow. Everything, from the sharpness and design of the tip, to the wood used in the shaft, was perfect.
“There was enough material for thirty arrows, aside from what we needed to make the sword. I hope that's enough,” explained Thom, setting aside his broom and shaking the dust from his hair.
“They're wonderful!” exclaimed the Fae huntress, funneling them into her quiver. “I'll make them last.” She then turned to appraise the sword. Taking it by the leather-bound hilt, she was shocked at its weight. “Whoa,” she uttered, nearly dropping the thing, “this is heavy...”
“Yes,” replied the blacksmith's assistant, �
��the metal is incredibly dense. It took Haemon all night to get it fully shaped and sharpened. It's a powerful weapon, though. The blade was carefully crafted, and this material is so rugged I can't envision it ever breaking. Furthermore, I have a feeling it'll keep its edge well. You may never have to sharpen it. A curious alloy, this one. If we could outfit every Fae with a sword of this kind, we'd never lose a battle again!”
Minx studied the grain of the blade. The sword was so smooth that it hardly looked manufactured; if anything, it looked as though it had always existed in this shape. It was a thing of moderate length, with enough space on its hilt for two hands. It wasn't as long as her father's sword, or the First's, but it was certainly heavier than both. Though the weapon was too unwieldy for her likes, in Kaleb's hand she knew it would be a winner. He'd be able to carry it with no problem, and one swing of the thing was sure to be punishing.
She set down the blade and slipped out of the workshop, eager to wake Kaleb. She roused him at the top of the hill, waking him mid-snore. “The sword is done! You've got to come down here and check it out!”
The dragon shifter rolled over with a groan, wiping at his eyes. “He actually finished it, huh?” Slowly, he gained his feet and stumbled down the hill. He bumped into the edge of the doorway on his way into the workshop and paused before the table, taking in the glow of the weapons placed there.
Suddenly, he was wide awake.
Wrapping one of his large hands around the hilt of the blade, he began testing its feel and thickness. “Now this is a sword!” He stepped backward, simulating a thrust and a slash, getting an idea of the weapon's heft. Extremely pleased, he set it back down and reached over to slap the slumbering blacksmith on the shoulder. “This is quality work! Well done!”
How to Bond a Mage (Heir of Dragons Book 3) Page 13