“Nineteen.” Using tongs, I take the freshly smelted bar of metal from its mold and carry it to the anvil. The residual heat still radiating as red throughout the metal has it slowly curling around the head of the anvil, beginning to form what will be the base of my sickle shape. “And you?”
“Counting the slumber, or not?” Ruvan asks coyly.
“Let’s say both.”
“Not counting the long night, I’m twenty-four,” he says. “Counting the long night, around three thousand, one hundred and twenty-four.”
“What…”
“The long night has been the past three thousand years while we slumbered in stasis to avoid succumbing to the curse. But for me, it was mere moments.” There’s a heaviness to his words that lingers as I return the iron to the forge. I remember Quinn’s mention of the chrysalis slumber.
Callos returns before we can speak further on ages, or long nights.
“There was mention of something like this in the notes you brought back.” He opens one of the books he carried in and I find it filled with loose papers I recognize from the workshop in the old castle. Two books he lays out also have the same script as some of those papers. He arranges them next to the blacksmith’s ledger. “There’s word here of encasing blood magic within metal—using it to preserve and carry power.”
Wiping my hands, I approach and scan the page he’s pointing to. On one side is a rough sketch of the door I opened down in the old castle. It’s not exact. But it’s close enough that I can tell it’s an early concept. On the opposite side are some notes, almost like messages passed back and forth between two different people. There’s the same hand that I recognize from the workshop alongside a penmanship that matches the forge master’s ledger. They’re focused on the specifications and details surrounding the actual how of building something like a magic door that channels blood magic.
“Like the disk and the door.”
“Exactly. There was a public missive on behalf of King Solos, written by Jontun, that outlined an idea for how the vampir might be able to collect, preserve, and use the blood that was freely given by patrons from all over Midscape during our full moon festivals throughout the month as strength. I’d forgotten about it entirely until I saw these notes. This metal, and daggers made from it, could be what they had intended.” Callos points to one of his books. “Look, here, this is a record in Jontun’s hand. And here, these notes, you can see the script is the same. I’m confident we’ve uncovered a tool our predecessors were planning on using to fortify the vampir.”
Leaning over, I look at the notes. I see the similar handwriting Callos is pointing out. But I also notice something else. “If the vampir could gather blood that way, then they had no use for humans. That would make a human want to work with them to uncover this power.” I point. Just like I suspected in the workshop, there were two people keeping record. “See? If that’s Jontun’s handwriting, then this is someone else’s. It’s here in the notes from the workshop and in the margins of the blacksmith’s ledger. It must be her.”
“Winny told me of your theory on the human woman,” Callos says delicately, cleaning his glasses. “But I think this is far more likely to be King Solos’s writing. Which is an extraordinary find! The man was notorious for writing nothing down; Jontun did everything for him.” He speaks like he’s trying to console me.
“I know it was the woman.” I look to Ruvan for assistance. He knows of my dreams. Dreams… I had one last night, I realize. Didn’t I? Or was it nothing more than a wishful fantasy?
Ruvan frowns. “We still believe that human was more of an…experimentation for Solos than a partner.”
“I don’t think that—”
“Solos wouldn’t work with a human.” Callos is convicted.
I bite my tongue and resist correcting him, continuing to share an intense stare with Ruvan. I wonder if he’s remembering the dream from the old castle. But he says nothing and my heart sinks.
Callos speaks, oblivious to our tension. “These discoveries are truly incredible,” he whispers. “To think all this time there was even more to the blood lore hiding in King Solos’s old workshops. It might take weeks to really go through everything, but this is a treasure trove of information. I wonder if some of this is the makings of the first blood lore tomes. Perhaps we could piece together Jontun’s lost records of Solos’s early work since the original ledgers were lost.”
I run my fingers over the journal, remembering the dream I had while in the old castle with vivid detail. “But the human—”
“There’s no way King Solos would’ve been truly working with a human.” Callos is clearly very sure of himself. “This mastery of the blood lore could only be King Solos.”
“Why?”
“He was the inventor of blood lore,” Ruvan says matter-of-factly. “It came from his work on the first humans to come to Tempost.”
“I thought vampir could always use the magic of the blood?”
“Vampir could, but it was only during the full moon when our powers were strongest. Blood lore strengthened us at other times. But the cost…” Callos pauses, chewing on his words.
“Are you finished here?” Ruvan says suddenly.
I glance over my shoulder. The forge is still hot. My metal waiting for me. If this were back in Hunter’s Hamlet, Mother would chastise me until I was red in the face for what I’m about to do. But…I’m curious what he has to say next.
“I’m at a stopping point,” I say. “I can pull out the metal and let it cool and come back later. It’ll keep.”
“Good, come with me, then.” Ruvan holds out his hand.
“Wait, where are you going?” Callos jumps from his seat as Ruvan is already pulling me from the smithy.
