A massive mattress heaped with blankets and furs. Chairs topped with lavish cushions. Rugs made from animal skins cover the floor. Off to one side are the water barrels from the Payment. A cabinet is full to the brim with the pickled vegetables and preserved fruits from the Estavor village. On a table are leather pouches holding dried meat. Enough food and water to last a single person for several years.
The only things out of place are the shackles dangling from one of the walls, blood crusted to the metal. They rest atop an empty bed. I realize it must be where he keeps the woman sacrificed to him each year. How long was the one I watched dragged away from the clearing kept here before she died? And what did Peruxolo do to her?
Perhaps it’s cowardly, but I don’t want to know. The important thing is that I can stop another girl from ever being sacrificed if I can kill him.
At the far end of the cavern is another path, and I follow it even deeper into the mountain, wondering what I’ll find next. But as I travel, I realize the path doesn’t curve deeper, it moves back around toward the mountain’s edge. Light filters in up ahead, growing more and more bright as I approach. Another entrance.
Whereas the opening I took was a mere slit in the mountain, this entrance is gaping.
And for good reason.
It’s a forge.
Branches hang down over the entrance, providing it with some camouflage while still allowing in plenty of airflow. A larger gate blocks the opening, so nothing can get in. In the ceiling are several openings that appear to have been crafted for ventilation.
The oven is similar in shape to Iric’s. But the castings lining the walls are different, and I can’t make sense of what they’re used to make.
Resting against an anvil are a hammer and a metal sheet about the length of a man’s foot. Little metal triangles are scattered across a table, but they are made from a different metal than the new lodestone, something darker. The edges are sharp—I nearly cut my finger when running it against one of the triangles. Also atop the table is one of Iric’s traps. Did Peruxolo stumble across one? He’s started taking it apart. Was he examining it? Trying to learn how to replicate it?
I hold my hand over a barrel that appears to be full of ash. When I don’t feel any heat emanating off it, I dip in my hand and let the substance slip through my fingers.
Metal fragments. Iron, I think. What is that for?
There is much more to see in the god’s forge, but I’ve tarried long enough. It’s time to leave.
My head swims with images of all the things I discovered in the god’s lair as I trek back through the cavern. I have even more questions than before. What are all the things he builds in his forge used for? Why does an immortal god rely on natural elements to keep us afraid?
At least I can say I’ve confirmed my theory.
Peruxolo uses lodestones to keep mortals out of his home. He wears them as armor so no one can approach him.
But now I know how I can approach him. I know one of his secrets, and I think it’s time someone challenged Peruxolo to a fair fight.
I retie the knot on the gate just as it was so he will be none the wiser and take the spent torch with me. I leave the mountain and head for the tree line where Soren hides.
As we take a long route home, Soren asks what I found, and I tell him everything.
“Iron fragments in a barrel? Sharp metal triangles? What does it all mean?”
“I don’t know,” I answer. “But I don’t care. I think I’m ready to face Peruxolo.”
Soren nearly trips. “Ready! How can you be ready? It would take years to study Peruxolo and learn all his secrets. Learning one doesn’t mean you’ll survive against him in a fight!”
“The important thing is that he doesn’t know what I’ve learned! He’ll think I can’t get anywhere near him because of the iron. Iric’s ziken-hide armor will change that. It will make the battle a fair fight!”
“What about your ax? You still don’t have a weapon that can defeat him.”
“I have the silver dagger he tried to kill me with.”
“It won’t do you any good against a battle-ax.”
It’s true. I need a new weapon, but—“The mountain is full of this new metal! I could ask Iric to make me an ax from the new lodestone. Peruxolo’s weapon must be made from the same metal. Then the battle would be fair.”
Soren scoffs. “Rasmira, you’re forgetting one important thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Peruxolo is centuries old. He’s had centuries to practice the ax. You’ve only had ten years! Just because you can finally reach him with your weapon, it doesn’t mean you can defeat him in battle. The battle will in no way be fair.”
The words hit home, making me feel like a speck of dirt, an insignificant being when compared to a mighty god.
“Just whose side are you on?” I ask.
Soren reaches out a hand and takes one of mine, never missing a step. “I’m on your side. I just want to make sure that when you go into battle, you will come out the victor.” He gives my hand a squeeze.
“There is no guarantee. There never will be. Even if I spent the next fifty years of my life training, I wouldn’t catch up to Peruxolo’s skill. The only advantage I have is knowing his secret. If I wait for the right time to strike, perhaps he won’t see it coming.”
“Perhaps.” But Soren doesn’t sound convinced.
We fall into silence as we walk, but my mind is turning. Soren and Iric have completed their quests. Now it’s my turn. I finally have an advantage over Peruxolo.
All I need is a plan.
* * *
IT’S NEAR DARK WHEN we finally reach the tree house. Smoke billows out of the chimney, and the smell of meat wafts down to us. I miss hot food.
Soren climbs ahead of me, and when he gets through the trapdoor, I see Iric launch himself at his friend, gripping him in a hug.
“You made it back! The feather?”
Soren turns to the side so Iric can see the hint of blue peeking out of his pack. “Right here.”
“Take it out! Let me get a proper look at it!”
I cough loudly. “I don’t suppose you two could scoot over so I can come in?”
Iric looks through the hole in the floor. “Raz, you made it, too!” He holds down a hand to me and hoists me the rest of the way up.
“Did you ever doubt I would?”
“Of course not. Now tell me everything.”
Iric sews up the gash in my arm while Soren talks. The needle bites into my skin again and again, a pain worse than the initial slash from the bird.
“How is it that you’re always the one who gets injured?” Iric asks.
“Probably because I’m always sticking my neck out for you two.”
Iric grins while Soren has the good sense to look guilty.
As Iric finishes off the last stitch, he asks, “And did you have a nice time together?” The tone of his voice makes it very clear what exactly he means by that.
My cheeks heat up, and I find myself looking anywhere but at Soren.
Iric laughs. “You two are so utterly predictable.”
I hear a smack, probably Soren taking a swing at Iric. “Leave her alone.”
“So long as there is no touching in front of me, I won’t say another word.”
“Why, Iric? Would that make you uncomfortable?” I ask. Feeling brave all of a sudden, I stand up, move over to where Soren is seated in his chair, and place myself in his lap.
Iric’s eyes narrow. “Stop that.”
My arms go around Soren’s neck.
“Rasmira, don’t you—”
And I lean in for a kiss. Soren is more than happy to play along. His hands press into my back, and before I know it, he’s tilting me backward.
A gagging noise comes from behind us. “Okay, stop! You’ve made your point. Please! Dear goddess, stop!”
It’s awfully difficult to focus on Soren when Iric is yapping in the background. Soren’s lips turn up into a smile against mine.
“Do we take pity on him?” I ask.
“I’d rather not.”
“Rasmira, I swear I will dump the new armor I made you into the gunda-guts-infested lake if you don’t stop this instant!”
That gets my attention. “You finished it?”
“I will not say another word until you sit in your own chair!”
I sigh, but rather than do as he says, I simply turn, pressing my back against Soren’s front, so our mouths aren’t anywhere near each other.
“That’s as good as you’re going to get,” I say. “Now talk.”