Forged by Magic (Falling for Fables, #1)(48)

“So what’s your plan?” she asked, running a hand along the flat top of the anvil.

“We need to craft something beautiful and eye-catching.” I watched her move through the shop like she belonged there, examining the hammers and tongs with keen interest. “Something beyond what anyone else will accomplish. Something that will clinch the win.”

“One of your swords, then.”

I folded my arms. “How did I know that’d be your first suggestion?”

“Tell me I’m wrong.” She reached the forge and stuck her head inside to look around. When she pulled back, she caught my eyes on her, and she flushed. “An impressive forge can make impressive blades.”

“No one here knows I craft swords,” I countered. “Except you.”

“You think they’ll be angry with you if they find out?”

“No, I just don’t want anyone to get any bright ideas. Those blades are not for killing.”

“What are they for?”

“I just…” I shrugged. “I like making them. It centers me and makes me feel like I’m doing something useful, even if they never get swung. But we’re getting off topic now.” I cleared my throat. I normally didn’t bare these kinds of details with anyone other than Skoll, and certainly not with someone who was still very much a stranger.

Except Daella did not feel like a stranger, not anymore. I knew more about her past than I did about most of the folk who lived in Wyndale, people I’d spent the better part of fourteen years with, side by side, every day. It was a strange realization, one I didn’t quite know what to do with.

Had I really kept myself that closed off?

I moved over to the wooden table along the back wall and held up a metal bracelet.

Daella frowned. “A bracelet? That’s…nice. But it’s not what I would call impressive. I saw your secret stash of swords. You can do much, much better than that.”

“This won’t be for the challenge.” I smiled. “I’m going to teach you how to blacksmith, and we’re going to start with something a novice can handle. That’s this.”

Her eyes darted from the bracelet to my face, almost eagerly. “Shouldn’t you make something without much help from me? I didn’t do an amazing job with the last trial.”

I chuckled. “That’s why we’re starting with this bracelet.”





20




DAELLA





R ivelin fired up his forge and flames engulfed the brick oven. Sparks danced in the air like fireflies, and wisps of smoke curled up the chimney. I watched, transfixed, as the orange heat poured through the shop. I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life. And the scent of it all, the smoke and steel, it grounded me.

It took all day for Rivelin to teach me how to make a bracelet. Blacksmithing was a lot more complicated than I’d ever appreciated, but it was good, hard work. As minutes turned to hours, sweat drenched my shirt and hair, and every muscle in my body ached.

But at the end of it all, I earned a simple bracelet and a nod of approval from Rivelin.

“Here you go.” I held out the bracelet. Crafted from iron, it formed the shape of a C with both ends tapered to a flat point. In the center, I’d twisted it four times so it had a decorative touch to the otherwise plain jewellery. Truthfully, it still didn’t look like much, but I had to admit I was damned proud of my effort.

“No.” Rivelin gently pushed my hand back, and an avalanche of steam gushed between us. “You worked hard for that. Keep it. Wear it, if you’d like.”

I smiled and fitted the bracelet over my wrist. It was heavy and warm. I liked how it felt. When I looked up again, I caught the way he watched me with an intensity that made my soul match the warmth from the forge. A charming smile brightened his handsome face.

“Ah, I see what you do now,” I said. “It’s a good tactic, really. I bet it works more times than not.”

He cocked his head. “I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”

“When I was dancing the other night, I overheard someone calling you a charmer, and I thought they were making a joke. But now I understand. You bring potential lovers into your forge and teach them how to make a bracelet. It’s a simple task so they feel good about their efforts, and then they have a piece of pretty jewellery to remind them of you. Very clever.”

“I’ve never taught another woman to make a bracelet, Daella. I don’t like other people poking around my forge.”

My breathing went shallow. “What?”

“I’m not a charmer,” he said, lowering the tongs to the anvil, all the while keeping his eyes locked on my face. “Who did you hear that from?”

“The pixie with the pretty wings I met the other day?”

“Odel. She only said that because she thinks I’m handsome.”

I unintentionally snorted, then instantly coughed, hoping I could cover it up.

“Well, that’s not the reaction I wanted to get from that statement,” he said, though he sounded amused and his eyes were doing a twinkling thing that made my stomach feel funny.

“You’re not not handsome,” I admitted.

“High praise.”

“You’re an elf, and you’re a blacksmith. It’s a given that you’d have some…appealing attributes.”