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For Kellyn’s sake.

“I need an apron and gloves,” I say to Elany. “Show me your iron stores.”

Aside from the guards lining the whole area, about seven men and women wait at the edges of my new forge. I realize soon enough that they’re my team. And they’re awaiting instructions.

“Um…”

Temra is the only person I’ve ever had in the forge with me, and I’m struck with unimaginable grief at the reminder. It’s been too long since I’ve heard her voice or seen her laugh. What if I don’t get to see her again? Not knowing what’s become of her might kill me before Ravis’s guards ever do.

I try to sort through the mess of my thoughts. I shove allmusings of my sister to the back of my mind. Worrying over her will only distract me from my current task.

Which is to talk to people. To tell them how to best help me in the forge. I look to Kellyn as a reminder of why I have to do this. Why I have to push aside the panic and discomfort. My fingers tangle together, and my gaze drops to the floor as I mumble out instructions.

If the smithies think me odd, they say nothing. Ravis clearly has them well motivated to work. They haul iron ore into the forge for me. Light the kiln. Man the bellows. Begin the process of creating steel.

And I see right away how I’m in trouble. This is going to be over much too quickly.

“No, let me hold that,” I say to the woman filling the crucible with charcoal. I take it, finish the mixture myself, and then put it in the kiln, which is already raging from the man working the bellows.

Another group has already finished filling another crucible, and they hand it to me for inspection. When done, it’s added to the kiln. Then a third and fourth. Five total fit in the kiln at a time. Then Elany leads me to another forge, where I have a hand in carburizing more iron. Over and over again.

With every new crucible added to the kiln, a stone weight drops into my stomach.

The forge used to be my safe space. It was where I was most happy and comfortable.

Now it’s my prison.

Now it’s where I will craft the very weapons used to threaten everything I’ve ever known.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Every night I fall into bed sore from my efforts. It’s been too long since I’ve hammered at anything for a significant length of time. I love the burning in my arms. It means I’m growing stronger. But it also exhausts me, and my team of helpers insists on doing the hammering themselves once I can no longer do it myself.

On top of that, there’s the stress of constantly being surrounded by people. It’s an exhaustion of its own. It makes me want to stay up late at night just so I can be awake and alone for a time. Otherwise, I don’t have time to think. To regain my mental fortitude, such as it is.

They bring Kellyn to the forges every day, but they don’t hurt him. I don’t give them the chance. I’m hammering, shaping, heating, reheating the metal of the swords we’re furnishing. If Ravis is also fond of the bastard sword, then that’s what I’ll make for him.

We do not stop for meals. Workers from the kitchens bringfood at even intervals to the metalworkers, and we take turns eating. The forges are never quiet. Someone is always doing something. There’s barely time to breathe.

By day six, my sore muscles are mostly a dull throb. I’ve learned the names of all the men and women in my crew, and I even occasionally forget they’re there. At times, when I’m lost in the sound of my hammer pounding on metal or gazing at the white-hot steel of a blistering sword tip, I can almost pretend I’m back home doing the work I love.

And then someone will ask me a question or a guard will bite out a threat toward Kellyn just for the fun of it.

Then I remember where I am and fear sets in.

When the pressure becomes too much, I look up, stare at the freshly replaced gauze at Kellyn’s head each day, and remind myself the cost of failing. It’s a terror that battles with my anger day after day. I don’t want anything bad to befall Kellyn, yet I want to beat on him myself for making me a slave to Ravis’s will.

Elany is never far behind me, observing everything I do, and she regularly attempts to strike up conversation with me.

“How long have you been magicking metal?”

“Do you magic with your will or your voice?”

“Does using your ability weaken you?”

I don’t know if she’s genuinely curious or if Ravis has put her up to the interrogation. Either way, I answer so the guards near Kellyn don’t get any ideas.

“Since I was nine.”