Chapter 9
“Please stop that, or you won’t have any eyebrows left.”
A gentle hand clasped over mine, prying the spatula from my fingers. “And you’re burning the rice.”
I sighed in defeat, looking into the kind eyes of the head chef, Angus Cane.
“I’m sorry,” I said as I stepped away from the fire, a hand carefully seeking out my brows. The air was thick with a pungent, burnt aroma, and the once-white grain was now a chunk of burnt nothing at the bottom of the pot.
He let out a deep, rumbling laugh from his round belly and clapped me on the back. “Not to worry, Prudence. I’ll send you over to Felix in the armory.”
I looked into those eyes that were so similar to his brother’s. He and Hannan were only a few years apart. They were the reason the Rebellion had grown into the thriving community it was now.
His lined face gave me an encouraging smile. “I think you might be more suited for that.”
He pointed me toward the armory, and I trotted away, waving a slightly burned hand over my shoulder at him. “Oh yes, seeing as I did so well with fire, a sharp blade should be no problem, right?” I called out, smirking at the snort of laughter he let out as I walked away.
My mood had flipped for the better after I’d been able to distract myself by trying to find my role here. At least I could help the rebels with something until I had to betray them.
As I made my way to Felix, the roads already more familiar, my mind wandered to the conversations I’d had with Angus. One of the reasons I’d done such a poor job with the rice—his stories had distracted me.
When he and Hannan were much younger, they’d traveled around the small towns surrounding the western side of Erobred, rescuing darkcasters, or mooncasters, as they called us here.
Apparently, lightcasters and darkcasters were once called sun- and mooncasters. The term darkcaster was invented by the King after the war to signify good and evil.
Slowly, with the foundation their earlier generations had built, they formed what I saw around me: a big society where everybody did their part.
That was why I was going from station to station, figuring out where I could help. At dinner last night, Hannan had walked me through my schedule for the day, deciding to start me off at the cooking station so that I could get to know his brother.
It’d only been three days since I arrived, but the twins and Hannan had already accepted me and my story about how I’d escaped.
The day after my arrival, I’d finally been able to sleep, snoozing until way past noon. Then, I chatted with Felix and Felicity and got actual confirmation that they were twins. Hannan had also told me a little about how they ran things here.
On the second day, Felix had given me a tour of the entire base, which lasted most of the afternoon. After dinner, I’d spent the evening skimming through Erebos’ book, looking for an item locator spell or any information on the crown.
I couldn’t get myself to toss the book like Boaz had suggested. I just had to be careful hiding it every time I didn’t use it.
I tried to suppress the ever-lingering feeling of intrusion and betrayal as I thought of the book currently hidden underneath the mattress of my bed.
Everyone’s kindness and eagerness to make me feel at home did nothing to help the matter.
Only Daegal was suspicious of me, but I’d managed to steer clear of him since our encounter in my hut.
Felix was sharpening a sword when I arrived. “Prudence!” he exclaimed happily. “Good to see you.” He put down the sword and the whetstone
to give me a clumsy side hug.
I had just clicked with Felix. His evergreen cheeriness had managed to dim my miserable mood every time we talked. As I looked at him, I couldn’t help but smile. Though different in appearance, he reminded me a lot of Archie.
His long hair was tied back into a ponytail, a braid trailing just above his ear. The short hair of his undercut looked recently shaven. Stubble followed the edge of his sharp jawline and down his neck.
“Hi Felix,” I said, stopping myself from studying him further. My face turned rosy, and I averted my eyes to the weapons around us.
Behind his worktable stood three tables in a sharp horseshoe shape. Different kinds of swords, knives, and axes I’d never seen before took up every inch of the surface.
“Quite the collection you’ve got here,” I said, admiring the details of the handles and blades.
He gave me a proud smile, picking up the sword he was working on and running a thumb over the sharp edge. “This is nothing. You should see the longsword I have in my cabin,” he said, winking cheekily at me.
I laughed, my face growing warmer. I wasn’t used to someone with as inappropriate humor as this man. To distract myself, I inspected the different weapons. “They’re magnificent,” I said, picking up a dagger with a blade roughly the length of my hand. The hilt was carved in polished dark wood.
“Thank you,” a feminine voice responded, and I looked up to see Felicity walking towards us. She embraced me tightly, and I tip-toed to reach her before she let go.
“I made those a few weeks ago,” she told me, snatching one from the table, tossing it into the air, and catching it again expertly.
“So you’re both teaching me… weapon-making?” I asked, feeling foolish. They laughed, fixing their brilliant blue eyes at me in unison.
“I handle the actual bladesmithing, and Lissie does the woodwork,” he informed me, throwing a lazy arm over his sister’s shoulders.
She rolled his eyes at him. “I’m a good bladesmith too. He’s just a lousy woodworker, so I have to do it.”
She looked affectionately down at the dagger in her hand—her creation. I decided I wanted to learn this and create something useful for the rebels.
The twins weren’t casters, but they were great fighters. Twice a week, they hosted optional battle training, teaching everything from hand-to-hand combat to sword-fighting techniques.
Felix taught anything where the enemy would be in close proximity, and Felicity taught sneak attacks and bow-shooting.
A guy named Jax, whom I hadn’t met yet, helped the dark— mooncasters improve their fighting skills further by using their magic. I wanted to learn to control my moon magic from him, as all I could do was hide in the shadows.
Felix clapped his big hand on the brick construction to the left side of his worktable. “This is a furnace. We get the metal really hot in here and hammer it into shape here,” he explained, tapping his finger on the anvil. “Repeat until you have an acceptable result.”
“So near perfection,” Felicity added, smiling mockingly at her brother.
“Let’s start you off with this,” Felix said, handing me a square piece of wood and a carving knife, ignoring his sister. I shrugged. This suited me fine as I wasn’t particularly eager to work with fire again yet.
I turned the block in my hand. Its surface was rough to the touch. It was definitely too big to be a handle; I couldn’t even close my hand around it. “What do I do?”
“Try to avoid cutting your fingers off,” Felicity winked, grabbing her own square.
I perched on one of the chairs next to Felicity, and she taught me to round the edges and carve the wood into the desired shape.
She created a beautiful hilt with a round pommel at the bottom. “To help keep the knife steady,” she explained. Light swirling patterns covered the grip for decoration. She sanded it flawlessly smooth, then dumped a generous amount of oil on it.
I looked down at my own creation with a sinking heart. The wood was still rough and pointy and probably too thin to be a proper handle.
“Here, let me,” she said, reaching out. I almost refused to give it to her, too embarrassed to let her see it.
She turned it around in her hands, studying my work carefully. With a swift movement, she chugged my work into the furnace.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, getting to my feet. “It surely wasn’t that bad?”
She threw her head back, laughing, then handed me a fresh square. “Try again, and this time, try to make one for humans, not pixies.”
Muffled huffing noises escaped my throat, but as the thing was burning away in the fire, I couldn’t exactly argue against it. So, I started over.
By the end of the second hilt, my hands were aching. Little splinters poked nine out of ten of my fingers, and I’d cut myself over the knuckles as I’d fought a losing battle with a stubborn knot in the wood.
Looking at the finished product, the second one was no better than the first. I sighed in frustration and lifted my arm to chug this one into the furnace to burn away with the other one when Felicity grabbed it.
“What’s this now?” she said, looking at the little drawing I’d carved into it when I’d gotten too frustrated with the knot.
My eyes widened as I realized I’d mindlessly carved the symbol on my arm into the wood. “Oh, it’s just a family symbol,” I said as casually as possible. She continued to stare at me. I rolled up the sleeve of my white shirt that Hannan had provided me with.
“It’s pretty,” she answered, trailing the outline of the crescent moon with her finger. “Why did you get it?”
I shrugged. “I wanted something to remind me of home… if I was ever captured.” The lie rolled smoothly off my tongue. I was revolted by my ability to spin the truth so effortlessly.
She nodded in understanding, her long hair flowing loosely with the movement. “That’s why we got ours too.”
I knew they couldn’t communicate through magic, as they didn’t possess any. They’d told me themselves. I’d thought that maybe one of the casters here had connected them, but I didn’t know if that was even possible.
“That’s enough carving for today, I think,” Felix said, getting to his feet and taking my terrible attempt from Felicity to perch it next to hers on the table. It looked like a toddler’s work next to their beautiful carvings.