We arrived in the middle of a packed-earth street, worn smooth by wagon wheels and hooves. The ground is cracked, and fine red sand drifts over our feet in the breeze.
Buildings sag on either side of us, their wooden facades weathered to the color of old bones. Window frames gape empty. A sign dangles from rusted chains, too faded to read.
“I’ve never been to an actual ghost town," Rowan murmurs, fingers twitching toward the daggers at her belt.
Asher grins. “You can buy them. Poppy and I went through a phase when we dreamed of buying a town and filling it with all our friends.”
I laugh. “Yeah, we started by looking at small villages in Italy and Spain and ended up shifting our sights lower and lower until we got to ghost towns.”
“Which we still couldn’t afford.” Asher is looking at me when his face lights up, and I know exactly what’s coming out of his mouth next. “Poppy!!! You’re rich now. We could totally buy a Scottish castle and the village around it.”
I laugh. “Hallowind money compounds through the generations for Hallowind interests. My sisters and I are meant to ensure the house and our place as Emberwood Elites is secure for generations to come.”
Asher sighs. “So, no castle?”
“Not anytime soon, no, but I’ll take you to one.”
“Can we spend a week at one of those D&D cosplay castles? I could be a bard and get a lute. You can be a princess… nah, not a princess. You could be a dragon!”
I laugh. “Sure, that sounds fun, but for now, let’s focus on why we’re here.”
I realize then that everyone is staring at us, blinking. “What?”
Izzy shakes her head. “Nothing. It’s just fascinating to listen to the two of you and to follow your mind mayhem.”
I wave away her comment and laugh. “It’s best not to try. Come on. We’ve got a mythical forge to find, weapons to hammer out, and a demon to vanquish back to hell.”
Orion's already shifted into predator mode, his shoulders rolling forward, ready to pounce, his keen cat-slit eyes tracking every shadow. “There are no scents of anything recent. This town is truly abandoned. Are you sure we’re in the right place?”
Mica presses her hand against her chest and nods. “Oh, yeah. It’s here. My blood is vibrating in my veins.”
And that’s good enough for me.“All right, then let’s find ourselves the Cinderheart Crucible.”
“Way ahead of you, girlfriend.” Mica points to a building at the far end of the street. Smoke rises from a chimney—a ribbon of thin gray, threading into a cloudless sky. “That’s where we need to be.”
We move as one down the echo of what would’ve been this town’s Main Street. Sand and rocks crunch under our feet. A tumbleweed blows across our path and catches against a collapsed porch railing off to the side.
Straight ahead, the blacksmith's shop hunches between a saloon with a caved-in roof and something that might've been a general store. It's smaller than I expected—just a leaning wooden structure with a horseshoe nailed above the door and a chimney far too large for the building's size.
Up close, the smoke smells wrong.
It’s not quite wood smoke, but it’s not quite coal either.
“The windows are blacked out." Sebastian leans close to peer through the glass, shifting position to see inside with no luck. Soot coats the panes so thick they might as well be painted.
I edge toward the door, my hand outstretched?—
And hit an invisible wall.
"What the—" I press my palms against the barrier and push harder. I feel like I’m doing a bad mime impression, but the airrefuses to yield. It remains as solid as stone despite looking like empty space.
"Is it a warding?" Wylder tries next, then Rowan, then Orion. Same result.
"Let me try." Mica steps forward and raises her palms, crossing the line of the barrier without resistance. She opens the door and steps inside, her boots echoing on the wide-plank floorboards as she disappears into the shadows.
I swallow, trying to see inside. “Mica? Don’t go in alone.”
“I’m fine, Poppy. More than fine, actually. Nothing I’ve done has ever felt so right.”
