Blade of Secrets (Bladesmith #1)(78)

“Well, are you going to stand there or help?” she asks.

And that’s that. We separate. I put my focus on hefting food to the table, but everywhere I go, I’m aware of exactly where Kellyn is in the room. Like there’s a string connecting us, and every time he moves, I feel the tug.

He sits beside me instead of near his parents tonight. I think maybe everything will be fine.

Until Temra sees me.

She opens her mouth, closes it. Notes how close Kellyn is sitting next to me. But she doesn’t say a word as she sits on my other side.

It isn’t until Kellyn’s father has offered thanks to the Sisters for the meal and everyone noisily digs into their food that she leans forward and says, “Well done.”



* * *



That night, it truly is impossible to sleep. I’m replaying every moment of the evening in my head, memorizing every movement and every feeling. My mind is so busy that it won’t calm. And even when the dawn comes, I’m still staring at the canopy.

When the boys disappear for chores, Temra corners me before I can do the same. “I want to hear every single detail.”

So I relive it again, answering every question she asks. It feels nice to share this good thing with her. I don’t even seem to feel that tired, despite not having slept.

It’s strange to have a mind thinking on good things for a change. Right now, I’m not scared of anything. Not what anyone will think of me, or if I should be embarrassed by anything I’ve done. Is this how everyone else feels? Those who don’t have my attacks because they can’t stop worrying?

Everything is happy and wonderful until I see him again.

I spent the day in the forge, constructing more of the mold, while Kellyn worked the fields. I haven’t seen him in hours, and I beat him home for dinner. But the moment he steps into the house, I know it. I can’t meet his eyes. It’s embarrassing. Because I know what he’s thinking and he knows what I’m thinking. And Temra does, too, but she’s too kind to say anything about it.

How do people deal with this? These moments and these pressures and the constant thoughts that just don’t go away?

Being social is hard, and sharing a piece of yourself with someone in this way is even harder.

I sit at the table, and Kellyn leans his long body down into the chair next to me. I feel myself start to panic at his nearness, but either Kellyn knows me better than I think he does, or he’s just naturally capable of giving me what I need.

He starts talking. “The little ones joined us in the fields today. They like helping with the orchards. It amuses them to no end to see how high I can hoist them in the air to reach the fruit at the top of the trees. Afterward, Tias spotted a garden snake winding through the tall grass, so we chased it. I caught it, and everyone let it wrap around their fingers for a bit until we released it back to the wild. Then Wardra found a patch of flowers, and she made us all crowns.”

When I finally look at him, I see he has a crown of flowers in his hair.

In his other hand, he brandishes a yellow blossom on a long stem and sets it beside me.

His talking puts me to rest. It gives my mind something to process without any pressure, and my heart warms at the sight of the flower.

“I arrived home early enough to help with dinner,” I say. “Your mom taught me how to make bread. Turns out these hands are good for more than just beating metal. I hadn’t thought dough could be so tiring.”

Kellyn reaches under the table and takes my hand in his as I talk.

And everything is fine again.



* * *



Soon, I find myself lighting up whenever I see Kellyn, even looking forward to it, instead of dreading it. My mind relaxes, and I revel in Kellyn’s presence. I love smelling the flowers he brings me. I love it when he takes my hand and even become brave enough to take his.

I love touching him when we kiss. Curling my fingers over his arm, running the flat of my hand over his chest, exploring the plane of his throat with my lips.

I’m happy.

And everything might just be okay. Temra is safe. I feel safe for once. Kellyn is perfect. Petrik is a favorite among the children, and he spends every second he can with them.

And then the day comes when the mold is finally ready. The last of the clay dries, and I invite Petrik, Temra, and Kellyn to join me at the forge.

“I don’t know if this will work,” I warn, “but I thought you all would want to be here for this part.”

Petrik scrounged up more parchment from somewhere in the village, and he’s been working to rewrite all the progress he lost on his book. He has it with him now, and he scribbles like mad from his spot on the ground, where he has a clear view of the hole. Temra is by his side, her arm on his shoulder as she reads what he writes.

“It’ll work,” she says without looking up. Total faith in me.

I don’t think I deserve it.

Kellyn wears Lady Killer on his back. After our initial arrival to his family’s home, Kahlia forbade weapons in the house, so we stored everything high up in one of the trees. But I told Kellyn to bring his longsword by the forge so I could take its measurements. I can get started on his magicked weapon as soon as Secret Eater is taken care of.

With my friends watching patiently and the curious smithy side-eyeing me, I heat up all the piles of scraps I’ve gathered. One by one I pour pots of liquid metal into the mold in the ground, filling it until the molten iron reaches the top.