He settles down onto the ground while the Celestial Star wafts through the air beside him, but his front paw remains tightly folded around whatever other object he’s concealing there.
“I spent enough time with Milena Ironmeld to understand how a Blacksmith’s power works,” Graviter says. “They cannot access their power without the right metal acting as a conduit. Otherwise, their power is trapped in their bodies like water in a bottle.”
“They need a hammer,” I say, nodding. “With a hammer, they can make medallions that will answer their will with a single thought. And only with the hammer can they awaken those medallions. Otherwise, the medallions will fall dormant once separated from their body.”
“Yes.” Graviter lifts one of his talons. “But only with the right hammer. That is where the hammer-maker comes in. Milena once told me that a hammer-maker is a Blacksmith with the ability to discern not only the existence of another Blacksmith’s power, but its true nature.
“By understanding that nature, she could choose the right primary metal and fold other metallic elements into it that would reflect and amplify a particular Blacksmith’s power. That is how she could create the perfect conduit for them.”
He exhales a heavy sigh. “I watched her make Thaden’s hammer when he was five years old. She showed me the titanium she sourced—a metal particularly conducive to House Ironmeld’s line, into which she folded a little mercury and a little copper, and then she beat the metal for hours, pouring her own magic into it. By the time she was done, the hammer she fashioned was receptive to Thaden’s power.”
“So she created it… as if it were one of her medallions?” My brow furrows. “I don’t see how this helps Asha.”
The golden dragon huffs softly at me. “Have you not heard me, Wolf? With the right metal and therightmagic, a conduit can be created.”
The furrow in my brow doesn’t ease.
He doesn’t rise or move toward me, but his voice lowers to a growl. “I ate the leaf that Asha created. I have seen her memories and all that will be. It is my belief that despite Milena’s failings and her fears, she didn’t make Asha a hammer because shecouldn’t.”
My eyes widen at this theory.
“No hammer beaten with Milena’s power would ever be a conduit to Asha’s power,” Graviter finishes.
I consider what he told me about how Milena made Thaden’s hammer. How she beat it with her own power—a power that, by the time Asha turned five, would have been contaminated with darkness.
“Asha needs a hammer filled only with light,” Graviter says. “Only the brightest, purest light will provide the conduit she needs to access her true power.”
His eyes blaze at me. “She changed that treedespiteMalak’s darkness. The power she was able to access to do that was a mere trickle of what she’s truly capable of.” His gaze burns me. “With the right conduit.”
I find myself, once again, studying his closed talons, where another object is concealed.
He said that to make Asha’s hammer, she needs the right metal and the right magic.
“You have the right metal,” I say, a sudden hope rising within me. “Don’t you?”
Graviter slowly turns his paw over, opening his talons to reveal a large lump of gold. “This is dragon’s gold.Mydragon’sgold, in fact. I have hoarded this lump of metal for centuries. The hoarding process gives the gold living properties and makes it receptive to forming a bond. I had intended this gold for my son and so it contains all my love for my child.” His voice cracks a little as he continues. “It is the right metal.”
He extends his talons toward me and I take the lump of gold from him. It’s heavy in my hands, but not so heavy that it can’t be lifted.
“And the right magic?” I ask, recalling the way he told Asha and me that dragons are creatures of light, and he is one of the rare dragons who can share his light. “You mean your light, don’t you?”
But my hope fades when he says, “No. I cannot forge this hammer. I hold too much anger for the death of my son. Using my light to assist Asha to rid herself of Malak’s darkness was as far as my light could extend.”
Now, he rises to his feet and edges toward me, his voice a low murmur. “Asha’s hammer must be made by someone whose deep light loves her. Someone who is willing to give everything for her.”
Someone whose deep light…
He can’t mean mine. Mine is gone. And even if it weren’t, I was never able to share it.
My shoulders slump as I consider the gold in my hands. “You said that a hammer must be made by someone who can pour their magic into it. My deep light can’t be shared.”
His eyes glisten with tears. “You forget, Wolf, I ate the leaf and saw it all.”
Despite myself, I take a step away from him, wary of the pain in his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw what you did, Wolf,” he says, now speaking in a low growl. “You drove one of those black spears down onto a mangled, silver medallion and woke the silver up. I saw thesapphire light that passed from your heart into that medallion. I saw the way the metal healed because of your light.”
“No. It didn’tpassintothe metal.” I shake my head. “Hitting it triggered it to resume its former shape. It was the impact, not my light.” I continue backing away from him. “I can’t share my light.”
