A Soul Like Glass (Kingdom of Betrayal #4)

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

E rik’s smile banishes all of my fears, and I’m not afraid to let go of his hand.

The bright, sapphire light fades from around us, but a glow remains, a haze of gold and sapphire that slowly fades.

I don’t want to destroy this moment with new fears, but it’s better to tackle them before my sense of strength fades.

I prepare to speak, but Erik gets in first, anticipating me so accurately that my breath is once more snatched from my chest.

“Your family needs you,” he says, a new urgency in his voice. “Now that you have a hammer, you can forge your own medallions. With those medallions, you can protect your family against Thaden Kane and anyone else who threatens them.”

Every Blacksmith child is given a hammer when they turn five years old. They then have years to practice using it, learning to hammer all kinds of metals until they turn sixteen, when they are allowed to forge their three medallions.

Forging a single medallion takes days. It involves heating a lump of metal in a fire of crimson coal and then beating that strip of metal over and over again to infuse their Blacksmith magic into it.

Once forged, a medallion will obey a Blacksmith’s will, changing its shape into any metallic object with a single thought. A dagger, sword, rope, chains… whatever the Blacksmith needs at that moment.

The medallion can be worn against the skin in the form of an armband or even jewelry, so it can be accessed quickly.

The medallions were basically weapons on command.

But I wasn’t given a hammer when I turned five years old. It wasn’t until Erik forced me to pick up Malak’s hammer that I discovered that my power was like Malak’s.

Unlike other Blacksmiths, Malak was left-handed.

And also unlike other Blacksmiths, who were limited to hammering metal and using their medallions to form metallic objects, Malak could use his power on living things.

When a medallion was pressed to his left hand, he could send his power into living things and transform them at will.

Only hours ago, Erik told me the story of how Malak demonstrated his power to Erik by turning an apple into a dripping piece of meat.

Malak was very clever about concealing the fact that he was left-handed. Always making a show of using his right hand while secretly using his left. I never knew his secret. Only Erik discovered it.

As for me, it took me ten years to figure out that if I wrapped a medallion around my left palm—my powered hand—I could alter the nature of living things with a single touch and a single thought. I did it by accident.

But I also did it with Malak’s dark medallions.

Now, I need my own medallions.

“To make a medallion, I need the right metal. It can’t be touched by anyone’s power but my own.” I shake my head in frustration. “My hammer is only half of the equation. I can use it to command and shape metal and even, somehow, to share the light you poured into it. But to face Thaden Kane, I need a medallion. And I don’t have the right metal to create one. Or the time to create it.”

I feel like I’ve come full circle with my problems and achieved nothing more than to repeat myself in the process, but Erik is listening attentively, the little changes in his facial expression conveying to me the speed of his thoughts.

“Do you remember the story of how Malak changed the tree outside his childhood home?”

I nod, uncertain where Erik is going with this. “My parents told me the story. The tree’s branches scraped his window at night. He didn’t like it, so he turned that tree into an apple tree. He made its trunk glow so it would sparkle and no longer frighten him.”

“How old was he, supposedly, when he did that?”

My brow furrows. “Eight or nine. So I was told.”

Erik’s lips settle into a grim line. “According to the story you were told, did he have medallions at the time?”

“Uh…” My brow furrows as I try to recall. “He must have. Maybe he forged them early…?”

Erik’s gaze softens. “May I tell you the story as Malak told it to me?”

“Please do.”

“He pointed to the tree and told me that he was only eight years old when he stumbled out into the darkness. He described his face as bruised. There was blood in his eyes. He held his hammer in his hand and he struck that tree with all his might, wishing only to break it down. Instead, he made it glow.”

I’m quiet, somehow more stuck on the bruising and blood that Erik mentioned than I am on the message I believe Erik wants to convey to me: that Malak transformed that tree with his hammer alone.

“You know… Genova said something similar to me that morning she met me in the apple orchard.”

Genova is—or perhaps now was —the head of the farmers’ guild in the human city. I don’t know what might have happened with her after a faction of humans led by the metalworkers and carpenters took control of the city.

I remember her grim words as I continue, “She said she never wanted to forget that the seeds of the city’s downfall were planted because a boy was forced to deal with his fears on his own. And then she asked me a question I don’t think anyone could answer.”

Erik gives a quiet nod, as if he knows exactly what that question was, and it seems he does when he murmurs, “What happened in that house that made Malak so afraid of the dark?”

I close my eyes as the question lingers in the air.

Darkness is created. It is made .

I take a deep breath, trying to focus on the future. “Is it possible that I can do much more with my hammer than I thought I could?”

“I think you’ve already demonstrated that you can.”

True.

“But I also believe,” Erik continues, “that a medallion can be used much more easily and effectively. Consider the way that Tamra used her medallion to heal you. If her power were like yours and all she had was a hammer… well… she couldn’t very well heal you by hitting you with her hammer.”

Ouch . I can’t help my snort. “Right now, she might like it if she could. Hit me with her hammer, I mean.”

When I last saw my sister back at the fae castle, she accused me of having a heart as dark as Malak’s. She was afraid when I asked her to heal the Vandawolf that he would imprison me and separate me from her again. Her fears were well-founded after all the years Erik had kept us apart.

To her mind, I must have chosen him over her.

I heard the pain and hurt in her voice when she spoke harshly to me on the night I left the castle.

Her words were like daggers pushing me away.

I try to pull my thoughts back to the problem at hand. “Even if I can do more with my hammer than I previously thought, it seems I still need medallions. So I’m back to my original problem.”

“Graviter’s gold was the right metal for your hammer,” Erik says. “When he returns, we can ask him about the right metal for your medallions. We will find it, Asha, I promise you.”

He slips his arm around me and draws close, his lips brushing my forehead. “As for the problem of time , I understand your worry. But your family is worth far more to Thaden alive.”

“I’ve been trying to tell myself that he won’t hurt them, but I can’t be certain. Not after he lied about who he is and the fact that he killed a dragon.”

“You’re faced with a difficult choice, Asha. You can rush back to your family without a medallion and risk that Thaden can defeat you. Or you can wait, forge a medallion, and risk that Thaden will hurt your family.”

Erik’s kiss eases some of my tension. “Whatever you decide, I’ll be beside you,” he says. “Whatever you need, tell me. I lost my family. I won’t let you lose yours.”

The conviction in his voice settles my anxiety. I may not be able to make longer-term decisions, but I can control what happens in the short term.

“In either case, Graviter will return very soon,” I say. “I want to be ready to leave when he does—either to find the metal I can use for a medallion or to find my family. I’ll decide once I have Graviter’s advice about the metal.”

“Then let’s prepare.”

We head inside the cabin and spend the next ten minutes preparing ourselves to leave, including dressing in fresh clothing. We each don long pants and tunics under our warmer clothing so we can remove the heavier furs if we enter a warmer environment.

We brought two satchels when we came here, and mine still contains my old toolbox. Inside the toolbox are Malak’s black hammer and three medallions, which includes the medallion that’s imprinted with dragon scales from Thaden’s palm.

Graviter Rex warned me to never touch Malak’s metal again, so I take care when I glance inside the box.

Also within it is the small, metal device that I pulled from Erik’s heart—the one Malak used on him to turn him into a beast.

Last of all is my grandmother’s silver pin.

It was given to me by a human woman called Mother Solas . She is the cousin of the last human king who ruled the Cursed City before Malak rose to power. My grandmother, who fought against Malak, had given the pin to Mother Solas for safekeeping.

When Mother Solas then gave me the pin, she told me she saw my grandmother in me. She promised there was hope for me.

Erik also selects two weapon harnesses from the wall of weapons by the door, pulling one on over his coat before depositing a number of daggers at the front and his father’s sword at his back. He also retrieves a bow and a quiver of arrows and positions them in separate slots in the harness.

He helps me slip a second harness around my shoulders and to position my hammer securely within it. Because of the hammer’s head, I have to slide it into the scabbard handle-first, so grabbing it will either mean trying to grab the hammer’s head —which is too large for my hand to wrap around—or the very top of the onyx handle where it meets the head.

Then he takes another dagger from the wall, holding it almost reverently.

“So long as you don’t have a medallion, you might need this,” he says, sheathing the blade and handing it to me. “It was my brother’s. He preferred a bow and arrow, but he kept this weapon sharp to keep me happy.”

Erik told me how he was the one who would fight up close with the beasts his family hunted in the forests of this mountain. His father’s words to him echo back to me now, the grim way Erik repeated them when he told me his story.

Erik will do the cutting.

His life was harsh even before he met me.

“Erik…” I consider the weapon for a moment before slipping it into my harness. “Thank you.”

He clears his throat. Gives me a nod. And finally turns to the door.

Now that we’re warmly dressed and ready to travel, we step from the cabin, the final embers from the hearth fire casting light across the snow before we close the door behind us.

Erik is alert, his head tilted, his gaze vigilant as he surveils our surroundings.

Because of the way the cabin is situated, with the door on one of the shorter sides, it takes a few moments to round the corner back into the clearing.

We’re only three steps away from the corner when Erik freezes.

A second later, the sound of beating wings reaches me, a frantic, flapping noise that stops abruptly.

Erik’s hand flies to my arm.

“Wait.” He is startlingly tense, his eyes narrowed and his gaze distant, as if he’s using his wolfish senses. “That isn’t Graviter.”