Rise of the Arcanist Series: Books 1 - 6

by Elizabeth Kirke

  Jen pulled out a handful of branches and started testing them with air spells. While she did that, Shannon separated the list of ingredients into four and I sat down and started looking up the addresses of local apothecaries.

  Jen had a few pieces of wood left in front of her when she leaned back with a yawn and declared that she was too tired to make a final decision. We decided to take a break for the night.

  The next day happened to be my day off, so I took advantage and went to the apothecary. The witch at the counter frowned when I handed her my list and asked me what sort of a potion they were for. I didn't know much about potions, but I assumed it was a strange list of ingredients, made stranger still by the fact a fire elemental was buying them. I smiled and told her it was for a class project. She still looked somewhat skeptical, but let it go. I supposed that on their own the strange ingredients weren't very incriminating.

  Much to our dismay one of the ingredients on Mariana's list took two days to prepare; by the time it was done, with about a week to spare, we had everything.

  It was a quiet, freezing cold night when we gathered at last in my blacksmith shed. The snow was coming down so hard I felt like I was going to get lost between the house and shed. I never really understood the whole non-magic thing about being scared of the dark, but if ever there had been a dark and spooky night, this was it. I looked around outside of my little smithy at a world that was nothing but black and dark blue. I could hardly make out anything. And it was cold.

  Next to me the other girls were bundled into huge jackets, stomping their feet and huddling together to keep warm. Rak didn’t take long to jump into Jen’s arms and curl up inside her jacket.

  “You can wait inside until I'm done,” I offered. They stubbornly shook their heads and I smiled weakly; I didn't really want to be alone for this anyway.

  I pulled out an old mold made for casting cauldrons and put my iron and silver ingots in, then pressed my hand on top of them. Everyone watched quietly as they slowly melted into liquid. I stirred them with my finger although they didn’t seem to be mixing well. It seemed like a very strange combination of metals to me, especially considering the radically different melting points, but I supposed it wasn't exactly a functional blade, considering it was going to be encased in wood and powered by magic. Rather than worry about it, I just made sure there were no lumps.

  “It's ready,” I whispered.

  “Okay,” Jen said nervously. “Let's do it.”

  With my free hand I pulled a throwing knife out of my waistband and held it out to Jen. She helped Rak out of her coat and looked around; I realized she was trying to find somewhere to put him down, where his feet wouldn’t be cold.

  “Here; if you don't mind, Rak,” I said holding on my hands. Jen passed him to me. He balanced on my shoulders as I cleared away a little spot above my hearth for him. I put my hand on it for a moment, heating the bricks, and then he jumped over and settled down.

  “Thank you.”

  I nodded to him, then went back to Jen to give her my knife. I glanced down at it for a moment and couldn't stop myself from thinking of Dani. I swallowed nervously and held it out to Jen, who took it with a weak smile of thanks.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mariana pull a knife out too. “You don't have to do this.”

  Jen hesitated, looking at her palm.

  “Mariana is right,” I said softly. “You don't have to do this.”

  As much as I desperately wanted everyone home safe and sound, and even though I had convinced myself there was no other way, now that we were here, on the cusp of actually making the damn wand, it felt like this was the point of no return.

  Jen studied the knife for a moment and shook her head. “Yes, I do.” With that, she slashed the knife across her palm with a gasp of pain and a hiss from Rak, then quickly moved closer to me, letting the blood drip down into the molten metal.

  I heard a soft cry from Mariana and she quickly joined us, light blue blood splashing into the mold. Shannon didn't bother with a knife, she just ripped part of her wrist open with her fangs and, with a grimace, held her arm out over the metal. Jen handed the knife back to me and I quickly sliced open my own palm with an almost blinding flash of pain. Steam, more than usual in the cold air, rose up from the cut as the orange-red liquid dripped down.

  I don't know what I was expecting to happen, but the blood just vanished into the metal and it looked exactly like it had before. I nodded to Jen and she grabbed the bowl that we had mixed the potions ingredients into and overturned it into the mold. Some of the herbs caught fire from the heat and burst into flame as I stirred them in, sending up a strange smelling smoke. Then, she pulled the red stone out of her pocket and dropped it in.

  “It’s turning red!” Shannon cried a moment later.

  I switched from the thermal I had been using to monitor the temperature and gasped. It was turning red and so was the smoke wafting up from it.

  “I think it's done,” I said softly when it stopped smoking.

  “What now?” Jen asked.

  “Now we let it cool and then I’ll forge it out.” I carefully balanced the end of an iron rod in a groove in the mold and stepped back.

  We stood there for a minute and I watched cold air whistling in through the cracks and even I started to feel chilly. The shed had worked great since we built it in the spring; my throat felt tight remembering we had planned on adding insulation in the fall. That had never happened…

  Trying to distract myself, I grabbed a small length of soapstone from the counter and carefully sketched out Serana's measurements onto the face of my anvil. As I did, I noticed Shannon spitting onto her palm, then Jen’s and Mariana’s. The dhampir healing accelerant wasn’t nearly as effective as a vampire’s, but it was better than nothing. Unlike them though, I had something more effective for me.

  When I was done with the outline, I went over to the forge. To my surprise, the coals were still smoldering away; I didn’t use the coal fire very often and typically just let it go out on its own. I stoked it back up with the bellows, then stuck my hand into the flames, wrinkling my nose at the taste of the coal, but left my hand in until the throbbing in my palm subsided.

  I turned away from the forge to check on the temperature of the iron, fully intending to just let the fire die back, when all at once it occurred to me that my dad had been the one to start this particular fire. My eyes stung with tears at the unexpected emotions from that thought and, for some reason, I decided that I just couldn't let the fire go out. I turned back and, with a lot more care than usual, arranged some fresh coal by the flames and built the stack up around it, tossing some used up clinkers on the floor as I did. As long as I went back to it every few days, the fire would last as long as I wanted it to like this. I decided that I wanted it to burn until my dad was home again.

  Satisfied that the fire was taken care of, I took a step back and brushed the coal dust off my hands onto my pants, before checking on the metal in the mold. I was expecting the silver and the iron to have separated, but it was still a solid, blood red, mass of metal.

  “Is it ready?” Jen asked.

  I switched to heat vision and checked it. “Not yet.”

  “Can you make cool down any faster?” Shannon asked.

  I shook my head. “I can only raise temperatures, I can't lower them,” I said ruefully. “Y'all can go inside if you want.”

  They shook their heads.

  “Might as well practice a little,” Jen said, pulling out her new wand. “Mar.” One by one, she cast warming spells on us and herself. I reheated the bricks that Rak was sitting on, earning a purr of thanks.

  Soon, it was ready. I grabbed the rod I had attached to the molten iron and, with a little bit of a wiggle, I managed to pull it out of the mold.

  “There we go,” I said, pleased to see that it looked like it was working so far.

  I wrapped my hand around the bar and heated it up to a working temperature, then grabbed my hamme
r and got to work drawing it out. It wasn't a large amount of metal; I had gotten exactly the amount of material that Serana specified, worried that if I ended up cutting off too much I would lose some of the blood or the potions inside and mess it up.

  Slowly, but surely, it began to take shape. They watched me as I heated and hammered; the metal began to stretch and flatten into the shape Serana had drawn.

  “It’s almost done,” I announced, holding it up to examine.

  “Are you going to dunk it in water?” Shannon asked, watching me curiously.

  “No,” I said, biting back a giggle. I could see her frown of confusion out of the corner of my eye, so I decided to elaborate. “First of all, I usually prefer to quench in linseed oil. It doesn't cool the steel down as fast as water and I like the smell.” I laughed and added, “I also kind of like how it bursts into flames.”

  As I spoke I pulled out my cutting tool and dropped it into the hardy hole hold on the anvil, then started heating up the spot where the rod I was holding attached to the end of the blade.

  “What are you doing now?” Jen asked.

  “You'll see.” I wasn't used to smithing with an audience.

  When the metal was hot enough, I carefully lined it up on the cutting tool and brought my hammer down on it. It easily sliced almost totally though the rod. I flipped it over and gave it another solid whack, totally severing it, to oh’s of approval and surprise.

  The blade tumbled down to the ground and landed in the scattered scale and clinkers.

  “Oh no, I’ve got it,” Jen said, obviously not realizing that I had let it fall on purpose. She took a step forward and started to bend down to reach for it.

  “Stop!” I cried. “It’ll burn you!”

  “Right…” Jen stepped back again with an embarrassed laugh. “I wasn’t thinking, I guess I’ve got other stuff on my mind.”

  “Honestly, I forgot it was hot too,” said Shannon. “Watching you do that without gloves…”

  “Actually,” I said, bending down and picking up the blade to examine my cut. “Most people don’t smith with gloves anyway. There’s too much you need to feel. Of course… most have tongs,” I added. “I just need to clean this up a little…”

  In just a few minutes, I had the cut part smoothed out and the blade was shaped exactly to Serana’s specifications. I set it on the anvil and stepped back, brushing the flakes of metal scale, off my hands.

  “Now we let it cool.”

  Luckily, the blade was small and it cooled down quickly in the cold air. Soon it was cool enough, in my opinion, for a human to touch. I picked it up and held it out toward Jen.

  “Here you go,” I said, suddenly choked up.

  The act of making the blade had been a nice reprieve from thinking about what it was actually for, but now that it was done and I was handing it over to Jen, I felt a nervous lump forming in my throat.

  Jen hesitated as she looked at the blade in my hand and I knew it wasn't because she was worried about the temperature.

  “Thanks, Ember,” she finally said softly.

  She took it from me and held up her new wand. “Okay, here I go. Sus.”

  I watched curiously as her wand seemed to unroll itself in a way that reminded me of a cinnamon stick – curling out from the middle lengthwise until it was shaped like a hot dog bun. I heard Jen let out a shaky breath and then she set the newly forged blade into the center. It fit perfectly She swallowed hard and murmured the wood spell again. The wand rolled back in on itself right. The wood seemed to ripple for a moment and then solidified into a solid piece, with no evidence that it had ever opened in the first place or that there was anything inside it.

  “Does it still work the same?” Shannon asked.

  Jen hesitated, not happy about using the wand now that it had been modified. Nevertheless, she adjusted her grip on it and said, “Mar.” One of the candles I kept in the shed for ambiance flared. She said the word for air magic and the flame went out as if someone had blown on it.

  “I guess it works…” Jen murmured. I couldn't tell whether or not she was happy about that. And I had a feeling she wasn't sure either.

  “So now… we wait for Serana,” Mariana said softly.

  Rak stood and stretched, then jumped. He vanished in a puff of black smoke and reappeared just in front of Jen, who caught him easily. She opened her coat and he snuggled in. For a moment she closed her eyes and pressed her face against his fur. Even from a few feet away I could hear him purring.

  “Why don't we get back inside,” I suggested.

  They nodded in agreement and we headed out of the shed. As I turned to close the door behind me I glanced back at the glow of hot coals and swallowed hard, wondering just how long it would be before I'd allow the fire to go out. I wasn't sure if that thought was a hopeful or a morbid one. Maybe it was both. With a sigh, I pulled the door shut, then turned to follow the others up to the house.

  Chapter Eight

  Jen

  The drive to Reave’s farm was completely different this time. Before we had been nervous and quiet, but just a little hopeful that maybe it would lead us to something. This time the drive was just as silent, but more oppressive, knowing who we would be meeting there. I still didn't know how Serana was planning on getting me into the castle, but considering how reluctant she had been to say and in light of all the other information she had given me, I had a feeling I wasn't going to like it.

  All too soon, we were pulling up the driveway toward the old green barn. As we got out of the car I looked around at the others with a nervous twist in my stomach, knowing that we were about to find out what Serana's plan was and soon it would be just me. I wondered how long it would be before I saw the three of them again, if I ever did… Well… I glanced down at Rak and smiled as he looked up, sensing the turn in my mood. I’d always have Rak.

  The thought gave me a little rush of confidence and I walked into the barn with the others, feeling for the first time since meeting Serana like maybe I could actually do this after all. The feeling didn't last for long.

  “Do you have the wand?” Serana said without preamble.

  I pulled it out.

  “Show me,” she commanded. I held it up a little higher and she actually rolled her eyes at me. “With sus,” she said in annoyance. “If a blood caster asks you to identify yourself, that is what you must do.”

  “Oh. Sus.” Embarrassed, I quickly said the spell and focused on the intent of incorporating something into my wand. Like before it uncurled. The first time I opened my real wand, after incorporating a second type of wood, it had been interesting to see that the newer wood was almost gone from the hollow in the middle and instead the two different woods had swirled together to form a fascinating looking grain.

  To my surprise the iron seemed to have changed too; there were tendrils of wood coiled around it like roots and the iron itself seemed to be bending around the wood.

  “Good,” Serana said in satisfaction. “You've been using it.”

  “Will they be able to tell how new it is?” I asked in alarm.

  “It shouldn't matter. Alaria accepts blood witches of all skill levels. You'll just have to make sure you don't lie to her.”

  I nodded and sealed my wand around the iron again, then cleared my throat nervously. “So, what do I do now? You said you’d tell me how to get into the castle.”

  “Indeed.” Serana produced a piece of paper and held it out. “Tomorrow night at this address there will be a gathering…” She paused and one of her unnerving smiles crossed her face. “A gathering of blood casters who are interested in becoming initiates.”

  My mouth went dry. Surely that wasn't what she meant when she said she could get me into the castle. But in the pit of my stomach, I knew exactly where she was going with this.

  “You will attend. And you will hope that you are accepted. From there, you will travel to the castle. Once there…” Serana smiled again. “You will kill my sister. And when she is dea
d you can rescue your friends.”

  I swallowed hard and nodded. “How am I supposed to convince them I want to be an initiate? I can’t just show up there, can I?”

  “Information about meetings like this is spread by word of mouth, carefully passed between blood casters. Tell them Fletcher told you.”

  “I haven't seen him in months!” I protested.

  “That's not my concern.”

  “I think it is,” Ember said suddenly. “Considering that Jen is the only person who's going to be able to kill your sister, it would be nice if you would give her a little bit more direction.”

  Serana snorted in annoyance, but then inclined her head as if Ember had made a good point.

  “Tell them,” Serana said, “that Fletcher told you about Alaria and that you are interested in becoming a disciple.”

  “What if they don’t take me?”

  “They most likely will. Alaria has ways of weeding out people who are not serious; she's not picky about who she accepts initially.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I asked nervously.

  She sighed, as if me being concerned about my own safety was off-putting. “You will be brought to the castle under the agreement that you will pretend you have given up your wand and wish to be turned into a vampire and, as a show of good faith, you will act as a servant to the vampires for six months.”

  “Six months?!” I cried. “Wait—”

  Serana hissed at me and I fell silent as the bone-chilling vampire magic made my breath hitch.

  “I wasn’t finished,” she snarled. I nodded and she glared at me for a moment, before going on. “In reality, of course, you are not proving yourself to the vampires, you are showing Alaria what you are willing to do in exchange for becoming a disciple. As far as she is concerned, anyone unwilling or unable to commit to this six-month hell, is unworthy of joining her. That is how she determines her followers. It was the same on Mystic Cay; stay for six months and work at the resort or fail.”

  “Fail?”

  “If Alaria decides you don’t have what it takes, she will kill you.”