Master of Iron (Bladesmith #2)(18)

It’s not a terrible way to go, I suppose. I did everything I could to save Temra. I can meet my parents in the next life guilt-free. Or mostly guilt-free. There were probably lots of things I could have done better. But at least I did everything I could to save my sister’s life.

I’ve lived a good life myself. I’ve left my mark, leaving behind weapons for the world to use. I’ve seen much of the world over the past few months. I had my first kiss. I knew what it was to be with someone for a time. I raised my sister to adulthood, and if she survives, she’ll be okay. Petrik will take care of her.

My only regret is taking Kellyn down with me. He didn’t deserve this. The stupid man shouldn’t have gotten himself caught.

I look at him now, without an ounce of discomfort toward him. I suppose there’s a sense of clarity that comes with dying. How can I be anxious when I know I won’t be around to regret anything? I take in his golden-brown eyes. So beautiful when they’re searching my own. I trace a lock of hair with my eyes, marveling at the red color, remembering the texture under my fingers. His lips are perfect. The color of light roses and softer than anything else in the world. I’m glad he kissed me today. I close my eyes to savor that memory one last time, just as the dagger angles toward my neck …

“This is Ziva Tellion! The magically gifted bladesmith!”

My eyes fly open at the words coming out of Kellyn’s mouth.

He didn’t.

“You don’t want to kill her when you could use her to storm Skiro’s gates.”

How, how, can he be suggesting such a thing? My consciousness slams back into my body in full force, and I return to being a nervous wreck.

Ravis raises a hand, which signals his man to hold. “Prove it.”

“Our weapons,” Kellyn says. “They’re magicked. She made them. Have your men retrieve them, and you will see. My sword is stashed up in the attic behind a framed portrait.”

Skiro’s feet slam loudly back onto the floor in front of him. “If you’re lying to me this time, I will cut out your tongue and feed it to you. Strax.”

The tall guard disappears from sight, and I glare at Kellyn.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

“Saving you.”

“By betraying our friends?” By betraying me?

“Silence your mutterings,” Ravis says. “I’m still of half a mind to have you killed, magic or no.”

I want to slap Kellyn and slap this haughty prince while I’m at it. I want to see my sister, to know if Serutha made it to her in time. And for the millionth time, I want to be alone in my forge.

When Strax returns, he holds my hammers in one hand, Kellyn’s longsword in the other.

Ravis takes Lady Killer in one hand and swings her about like he did his dagger a moment ago. “What does it do?”

“Have your men charge you all at once,” Kellyn instructs.

“Strax.”

The head of Ravis’s guard signals to some of the men and women on standby. They rush at their prince, though tentatively. I watch as they flip their spears around, trading the pointed ends for the shafts, before attempting to strike at their prince.

Ravis is a skilled swordsman, that much is clear. But Lady Killer makes him untouchable. He spins and ducks and jumps all the spears jutting for him. He doesn’t throw any of his own strikes—he doesn’t wish to harm his own men. But he puts on quite the act of dexterity as he dodges slash after slash.

When satisfied, Ravis leans the longsword against his throne. “The hammers?” he asks Kellyn.

Kellyn explains what the left hammer does in detail, and Ravis practices with it, using his men again. He marvels as he deflects blow after blow on the shield hammer.

Satisfied, Ravis sets my hammers next to the longsword before turning to me. “You will make me and my men weapons before our attack on Skiro’s Territory.” He nods, as though satisfied by his own conclusion, and turns.

“No.”

I haven’t said a word during the entire ordeal, but now one comes flying out of my throat like a battering ram against a door.

Ravis doesn’t turn around, but he halts in his tracks. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move for a whole minute.

Then he turns.

“Strax, my dagger.”

The guard tosses the weapon to his prince. Ravis catches it deftly.

“You can kill me,” I say as he steps toward me. “I won’t do it.” I will not craft anything that could hurt my friends or sister. Not again. I’ve learned my lesson with Secret Eater.

But instead of taking the remaining steps to reach me, Ravis veers in Kellyn’s direction.

“No!” I shout, just as he brings the blade against the side of Kellyn’s head.

A wet noise. A grunt of pain. Kellyn shrinking in on himself. The dagger comes away bloody, and Kellyn’s hand goes to cup the side of his face.

Ravis is holding part of his ear.

I feel my stomach turn, my lips quiver.

I never knew that one little word could do so much damage.

No.

I can’t so much as move, I’m so shocked.

Ravis presents the ear to me as though it is a gift, then drops it at my feet. “You care about this man, else you wouldn’t have stayed behind for him. Make me my weapons, or I will gift him to you, one piece at a time.”