Pain.
It was only days ago, but it feels like a lifetime, that the Vandawolf warned me Malak’s cruelty was strongest when he was hurt.
Well, nowI’mhurt.
The hatred within the band now fused to my hand intensifies, obliterating every other emotion.
Nearby on the ground is the abandoned crossbow bolt, metal that glows red hot and ready to be molded into a new form, except to achieve that, I will need to hammer it, and hammering will draw attention. What’s more, I would need an anvil—or some other hard surface—to hammer against.
The monolith isn’t hard enough. I put cracks in that stone with my hammer when I removed the tusks.
I take a step forward, examining my surroundings in case the fire has hardened some part of it. My steps bring me to the edge of the explosion, where I pull up short, my lips parting in surprise.
The blast cut into the ground. Right down to the bones of the earth.
Within the cut, old tree roots writhe like snakes and between them, a glowing mass of dust appears to slowly swirl.
I struggle to breathe as I see for the first time the full extent of the magic that has sunk into this earth, a seething mass that glistens with a kaleidoscope of colors.
It looks almost like oil sitting on top of an iron surface.
Beneath the oily rainbow of energy, I can make out bones.
I glance back at the stone wolf. Monsters like that wolf must have once been real creatures, their bones mutated and given life by the transformation magic I’m now looking at.
Directly below me, I make out the leg bones of what might have once been a four-legged creature. Judging by the shape of its skeleton, it might have been a deer.
I’ve never seen a real one.
Neither has the Vandawolf. I promised him that if I saw one on my journey beyond the city, I would tell him all about it.
He said:“Don’t waste a second of your freedom.”
I didn’t know then that he was trying to send me away forever. To live my life. Make my own choices. Befree.
Because of the smoke, I can’t see how far the crater stretches, but it doesn’t descend too deeply at this edge. Crouching, I dare to hover my left hand above the swirling surface.
It’s the same move I use to detect the location of a monster—or, as I discovered earlier this morning, to identify the location of another Blacksmith, since I unwittingly tracked my own sister this way.
Energy leaps up to meet my palm, biting my skin and tingling through the medallion.
It’s so much stronger than when there’s a buffer of soil covering it.
This energy…
It seems to be constantly building. Gathering. Working on the bones in the ground. A tumult of transformation power.
Currently, it’s strengthening around a spot in the near distance where, undoubtedly, the bones of another animal must lie.
My lips rise upward because I’m certain that another monster will rise from that spot soon enough.
If it forms before the smoke clears, the humans won’t see it coming.
I feel no sympathy for them.
This situation is of their own making.
My cold smile broadens.
