Master of Iron (Bladesmith #2)(21)

“Make my men unbeatable. I need weapons fit to conquer Ghadra. I don’t care how you do it. Just get it done. Any further questions can go to Elany. I might just decide you’re not worth the trouble if I hear another one. We’re done here.”

Ravis leaves me, his guard trailing behind him. The soldiers assigned to me remain, fanning out along the sides of the forges.

I turn to stare at everything behind me. Noise and people and roaring fires and people. I want to run.

The girl called Elany steps up to my side before I can do something foolish.

“They won’t bite,” she says kindly.

“I’m not used to working in front of others.”

“For the sake of your friend, I hope you get over that quickly.”

That makes two of us.

“Shall I show you around?” she asks.

“Do I really have a say?”

Elany doesn’t answer; she takes me in a wide arc around the area so we can better observe the space and how everything works together. My assigned guard is never less than twenty feet away.

I count at least four dozen men and women before I give up. They’re all massive, well-built individuals. Elany explains that there are sixteen kilns, twenty-five anvils, a dozen grinding stones. She introduces me to some of Ravis’s most talented smithies, but I don’t remember a single name. I’m too busy battling the anxiety that tries to creep in and take over. I don’t look anyone in the eye if I can help it. I couldn’t attach faces to names if I tried.

Children sweep the forges free of soot, oil down weapons, stack them neatly against tall racks. The forges are busy and noisy and full of chatter. I feel as though I can’t quite ground myself, as though every new sound quakes in my bones, setting me off balance.

“Here’s where you’ll be working,” Elany says, showing me to a forge in the heart of the sprawling smithies. Where I can be observed by everyone. Where escape is impossible.

Beyond the forges, I can spot a single road leading away from the castle, but there’s no cover on either side of it. Tall, prickly plants unlike any I’ve ever seen dot the area. Sparse bushes and shrubs grow intermittently. In the distance, past the sweep of the city, I can see the start of a tree line. The sun is to the left of the woods, so I know they sprawl to the south. Toward Skiro.

But I’d never reach them with how heavily I’m guarded.

And then an approaching contingent of guards has me feeling even more trapped than before—until I notice who they’re escorting.

Kellyn walks in the middle of the throng. The relief at seeing his face is a tangible thing. There’s something about taking in his features that makes me feel a little more hopeful. A little stronger. Like we can get through this together.

It battles against the part of me that wants to rage at him for getting me in this mess, for putting the idea into Ravis’s head to use me to build weapons to hurt others. But at the sight of the gauze that wraps around his head and covers his left ear, the nicer Ziva wins.

“Are you all right?” I ask him.

“No talking!” a guard yells back.

“Oh, shove off,” Elany says to him. “There’s no harm in her asking after him. Go ahead, Ziva.”

“Kellyn?” I ask.

His eyes meet mine. “I’m just fine. They cleaned me up. My sleeping arrangements leave something to be desired, but they’re not hurting me.”

“Yet,” the guard who spoke before says. “But anymore dawdling, and that will change. Get to work.”

So they’ve brought Kellyn to keep me on track. To encourage me to get my job done with all haste. I’m to outfit an entire army with magical weapons.

This is what I feared most just months ago when we were running for our lives from Kymora.

Now it’s my reality.

The bite of despair is powerful, but I can’t let that poison set in. If there’s a way to get us both out of this, I’m going to find it. I’ve bought myself some time to think. I’ve convinced Ravis I can’t just magic the weapons he’s already made—which was, of course, a total lie. I could heat them up one by one and magic them on the spot.

But now I’m permitted to start the process from scratch. It’ll be weeks, surely, before I finish a single weapon for the prince. I’ll stall wherever and whenever I can. But I must always appear to be doing my best.

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 all musings 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.