Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Alurch in Lia’s stomach pulled her an extra step forward when they arrived in Malletor. She squeezed her eyes shut as the world continued to rush by, despite her standing still.
Whiplash warnings needed to be included in the Flameheart Order’s contract.
Heat engulfed her, baking her skin with a discomfort more intense than what she’d ever experienced on Earth, even in the worst of summer.
A trip to Arizona tickled her mind, remembering a July vacation spent in Phoenix where the sun was always cooking.
That heat and the dizziness made it terribly hard to catch a full breath.
She was still working on breathing when Kayce said to Fee, “I thought you said we were going to see the Smith? How is this place even a forge?”
“Says the boy already sweating through his clothes. No offense, but that’s disgusting.”
“So guardians can regulate their body temperature as well as morph their clothing with their fancy magic?”
“Obviously.”
Kayce was close as she opened her eyes, his own face disconcertingly pale and likely made worse since he was recovering from the dragon attack. Not that he would ever let on otherwise. Sweat shone on his brow, his tousled locks clinging to the back of his neck.
Fee crossed her arms. Her wings were gone, a pair of black-lensed goggles wrapped around her forehead, and her hair was braided close to her scalp. Similar leather gloves and coveralls were swapped from her ethereal attire.
Lucky girl. Her skin was perfectly dry.
“I know this is a blacksmith we’re visiting and all,” Lia said, breaking up their glaring contest. “But why is it so hot?” Never did she think fire could be so instantly suffocating. Lia didn’t even see any flashes of red as she looked past them—
Because there were none. No flames whatsoever.
The trio stood on a vast field of what could have been lava rock.
Black stone rippled and churned in petrified flows.
The terrible heat source wound through the rock like rivers, lazily flowing and emitting steam.
But the rivers were not the reds and oranges lava should have been.
They shimmered, the molten rock an ever-changing swirl of golds, indigos and navy blues, glowing white from within.
“Stars burn hotter than any fire, volcanic or otherwise,” Fee said. “It’s what goes into every piece the Smith crafts.”
They were on a planet of molten starlight.
Lia would have been impressed, awe-struck even, were she not so ridiculously hot.
She wore jeans and a plaid button-down—attire more appropriate for fall.
Not this place. She fanned herself, looking over the dark plain to iridescent rivers converging on an enormous dome.
Steam billowed from the tapered peak, the entire structure hewn from stone yet polished like silver.
“Please tell me he has air conditioning,” Lia whined.
“Don’t worry. The structure’s designed to keep cool despite the heat in the atmosphere.” Fee came up alongside her, Kayce keeping stride. “The Smith has been here since the dawn of the Emperium. The sphere hasn’t killed him.”
Kayce tugged at his shirt collar. “Yet.”
It didn’t take long for them to reach the forge.
Lia’s hair was a frizzy mess, leaving her no choice but to wrangle it into a bun.
Anything to keep its mass off her neck. It reminded her of all the girls in gym class who ran and played sports with their hair down.
She never trusted them. It was far too uncomfortable, for beauty’s sake or not.
But nothing seemed to bring her any relief from the blasted heat until the dome’s doors slid open on their own.
“That never gets old.” Fee let out a wistful sigh. The air steamed around them, coolness rushing to kiss their skin.
Kayce and Lia clamored inside, not waiting to be greeted. It was definitely one of those times to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. The doors slid shut, encasing them in cool, dimly lit air. It was like stepping into a walk-in refrigerator, the perspiration slowly drying on Lia’s skin.
“Why couldn’t you have zapped us in here?” she asked Fee.
Kayce nodded vehemently, running his fingers through his hair. “Certainly would have been safer. Aurelia almost tripped twice into those infernal rivers—”
“Yes, yes, I’m painfully aware,” Lia cut him off in a rush of her own embarrassment. She couldn’t help but smile when she caught his eye. “Thanks for catching me, though. Both times.”
The corners of Kayce’s mouth perked up, even as his eyes danced away. It didn’t seem out of frustration or tension. In fact, during their walk, she had caught him staring more than once, a soft contemplation creasing his brow. Lia would have given anything to know what he was thinking.
The guardian moved ahead into a large chamber, where a set of stairs spiraled down.
Steam rose from the center, its source hidden.
Lia had little desire to follow, because Fee was headed toward the steam’s source.
A heat Lia was done with for a lifetime.
Moving down south at any point in her future was out of the question. Period.
“I didn’t ‘zap’ you in here because it’s not polite. How would you like it if someone just appeared in your living room?” Fee waved for them to follow, but didn’t wait to start the descent.
“I wouldn’t.” Lia soured when her eyes found Kayce’s. She tried very hard not to remember the way his body had curled around hers, both of them blissfully ignorant in sleep.
It seemed like Kayce felt the same. He bolted after the guardian, smarting over his shoulder, “That wasn’t my fault.”
Lia rolled her eyes and followed, thankful he couldn’t see how her cheeks had flushed even further.
The rhythmic hammering of iron pounding on metal echoed up the staircase, the walls narrowing with each pass around the circumference.
Whooshes of expelled air accompanied the booms, the metal continuing to clamor afterward.
They came upon a door, through which Fee led them down another, more direct set of stairs that opened to a spacious cavern.
The steady pounding had stopped and the heat returned, though not as intense.
“Smithy!” Fee hollered. “Hope you’re ready for some company!”
“At least you knocked this time, you bothersome sprite,” came a responding bellow.
Fee glowered, muttering to Lia. “He knows I detest that insult. I might sacrifice my eyebrows if it teaches him a lesson.”
“There was a time you didn’t knock?” Kayce said, bemused. “What happened to not appearing in someone’s living room, Guardian? Or is that a lesson you learned the hard way?”
A bark of laughter echoed. “Whoever that lad is, I like him already!”
Lia didn’t doubt the murderous glint in the guardian’s starry eyes. As apprehensive as Lia was, anticipation filled her. She wanted her pen. She wanted to learn her gifts, to master what she was born to be. It would bring her another step closer to figuring out what happened to her papa.
Kayce reached out for her arm. “Aurelia, let me—”
There was no hesitation this time. She was already out of his reach, entering the forge.
A large anvil was closest, the metal worn smooth like polished glass from so much pounding.
Not far was a tank filled with water, deep enough to immerse a longsword and broad enough to hold an axe like she had seen the Norenthian dwarves wielding while mining Fealtek.
The cavern above acted as the hood and flue, extracting sparkling steam through a hole at the top of the dome.
Lia tracked the steam to its source in the center: a gaping pit filled with molten starlight.
The vat was massive, flecks of light swirling.
It illuminated the room, a river of it running around the wall’s circumference.
“Honestly, Fiducia, I’ve told you to give more warning when I need to host visitors. I would have made snacks.”
A heavy clatter accompanied the gruff voice and drew Lia’s attention. Various hammers and clamps covered the opposite wall, the table beneath strewn with more tools, fine picks, and other materials. Lia even thought she spotted a satchel full of gems sparkling in the starlight.
But it was the man—the giant, to be more fitting—that dominated her attention. She involuntarily took a step back.
Fee sighed through her nose, putting a gloved hand on her hip. “The last time I did that, you made me stand outside until the table was ready. It was only our weekly lunch appointment.”
The large man turned, his long gray hair tied back and streaked with real strands of silver.
It coiled through the braids of his beard, beads hanging over his barreled chest. He glowered at Fee, soot wrinkling his tanned skin.
“It’s all about the presentation. Seldom do I get to experience that.
And you know I like the excuse to use the nice silverware—”
“It was tea cakes.”
“But I made them! The silverware and the food!” he exclaimed, throwing up hands the size of small dinner plates.
One eye focused on Lia. The other was covered by a diamond, carved as a monocle strapped to his face.
It refracted like a kaleidoscope, his eye fragmenting as it zeroed in on her.
“Do you have any idea how often I get to attend the presentation of my work? Never. Not Mjolnir, not Excalibur, not even the Elder—”
Fee cleared her throat. “We don’t talk about that, Smithy.”
Lia’s mind went reeling, cataloging each item the Smith had ticked off. He’d made those things? And he was going to help her?
The Smith wasn’t deterred, blinking hard with fists pressed to his leather smock.
“I made them! I put blood, sweat, and tears into what would become the center of stories for generations—and does anyone invite the guy who made the sparkling thing? No, no one ever thinks about him. Or worse, they give the credit to someone else because their sphere demands it—”