“Well, no. With a mythical forge like this, I would need to apprentice with a master to hone my metal affinity and understand what this forge can do.”
The cat seems to consider her answer and approve. Well, as much as I can tell if a cat is considering anything.
"No one has been worthy for quite some time." The cat's gaze sweeps over her, measuring. "Most see this place as a meansto power. They come demanding, expecting the forge to serve them."
"That's not—" Mica glances at the tools she'd straightened, the anvil she'd cleaned. "I would never."
Brimstone's ears perk forward. "You see it as craft. As art. You treated the space with respect before you even knew I was watching." He straightens, arching his back with feline deliberateness. "I believe you are worthy. Will you stand as the smith of this magical forge?”
“Yes, of course. It would be my honor.”
Brimstone flicks his tail. "Then welcome to your destiny, Mikayla."
The door slams shut in my face, and the force of the magical burst that comes with it knocks us all back.
I sit up, blinking…
The building isgone.
Where the blacksmith's shop had been, nothing remains but sand and the ghost of chimney smoke dissolving into the sky.
"Mica!" I scramble to my feet, but there's nothing there. “Sebastian, can you follow the magical energy?”
Sebastian frowns, shaking his head. “No, Mica was the one with the connection to the forge.”
I spin around, meeting the looks of shared shock. “Okay, thinking caps. How do we find her? How do we get her back?”
Wylder grabs my arm. "Poppy, calm down.”
"It took her!" My heart hammers against my ribs. "The building just—it disappeared with Mica inside!"
"The guardian accepted her," Izzy says quietly. "That's what it looked like, anyway."
"So what? We just wait and hope it spits her back out?"
"The Crucible exists in a pocket dimension." Rowan says. "If it chose her, it'll reveal itself again, but on its own terms."
I stare at nothing—at the space that held ancient magic forge, a talking cat, and my friend.
"She better be okay," I mutter. "Because I amnotexplaining to her parents that we lost their daughter to a haunted blacksmith shop."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
When the portal drops us back into the standing stones ten minutes later, the cold air is a slap in the face. I manage not to lose my balance and crash into anyone, so I take that as a personal best.
The ancient stones hum at their usual low frequency—that deep, bone-felt vibration that says I’m home—but none of it reaches past the knot sitting in my chest.
Sebastian closes the portal behind us with a soft crack of displaced air, and the eight of us stand in the ring of stones for a moment, with no one speaking.
The eight of us.
Not the nine we left with.
The forest path back to the house seems longer than usual.
"She'll be all right." Sebastian’s voice is low and carefully pitched. "The guardian of the forge chose her. He didn’t do that lightly."
Asher grunts. “Do we really trust our girl to a talking cat named Brimstone?”
