Chapter 12: The Forge of a Different Fire

The silence after their agreement stretched thin enough to snap. Garron’s rambling had subsided into a pained quiet, his head tilted back against the rock while he watched the sky lighten. Elinalise kept her eyes on Crow’s Perch. The place looked different in the growing dawn, less like a refuge and more like a wound that had scabbed over with ramshackle buildings. Smoke from morning cookfires rose in thin, grey lines. Figures moved between the huts with a purposeful, furtive energy that suggested everyone was either hunting or being hunted.

Her shoulder ached where his weight had pressed. The manacles were a persistent, warm pressure. The plan was madness. It relied on Garron’s unnamed allies, on the greed of an outlaw leader, on the competence of a blacksmith she’d never met. Every step was a potential trap.

But the manacles were real. And traceable. That fact alone made the madness necessary.

“The signal,” Garron said, his voice rough. He didn’t open his eyes. “When we take the goat trail down, we’ll come out near that cluster of boulders at the base of the slope. There’s a sentry post in the rocks above it. They’ll have seen us coming for the last half hour already.”

“What do I do?”

“You don’t do anything. I do it. You just stand there looking like you’re in charge of me. Which, for this part, you are.” He opened one eye to look at her. “I’ll whistle three notes. High, low, high. Like a thrush that’s forgotten the middle part of its song. Then I’ll wait two breaths and whistle the same thing again. If they acknowledge, we’ll hear a single rock click against another rock from up in the crags. That means we can proceed. If we don’t hear the click, we turn around and leave immediately because it means the signal changed or Marcus has put a specific watch on this approach.”

“And if we hear an arrow instead?”

“Then my information is bad and we’re both dead. But my information is rarely bad about things like this.” He closed his eye again. “Give it another few minutes. Let the sun get a little higher so they can see my face clearly. Makes the whole prisoner story more convincing.”

Elinalise flexed her fingers, feeling the chain links shift. “This Marcus. You said he’s not smart.”

“He’s cunning in the way a rat is cunning. He knows how to survive in a hole and when to bite. Complex plans confuse him. He likes simple stories. Strong bandit captures weak bandit, wants reward. That’s a story he understands.” Garron shifted his leg with a suppressed groan. “Don’t offer extra details. If he asks where you caught me, say near the Blackwood ambush site. That’s plausible. If he asks how you managed it with me being so big and fearsome and all,” a dry sarcasm colored his words, “say you got lucky. I was wounded from the fight, you surprised me. Luck is something out here everyone believes in, even when they don’t have any.”

The sun cleared the distant ridge line. Full morning light spilled into the valley, turning the smoke golden and exposing every stain and patch on the settlement’s roofs. From this height, Elinalise could see people gathering around a central well, could see children chasing a dog through the mud between huts. It looked almost normal, if you ignored the armed figures posted at the palisade’s makeshift gate and the way everyone moved with a constant, glancing awareness of their surroundings.

“Time,” Garron said.

Getting him upright again was a struggle. His leg had stiffened during their rest. She had to leverage her whole body under his arm, bracing against the rock to haul him to his good foot. He bit down on a curse, his face pale.

“Goat trail is behind those boulders,” he said, nodding toward a tumble of grey stone twenty paces along the ridge. “Steep. You’ll need to go first on the tricky bits so I can use you as a crutch.”

The trail was less a trail and more a suggestion worn into the steep slope by animal passage. It switchbacked down between jagged outcrops, so narrow in places that they had to move sideways. Loose shale skittered away under their boots, clattering down into the void below. Elinalise focused on each foothold, on the strain in her thighs as she took Garron’s weight during the steepest descents. The chain around her waist swung and caught on thorny brush, forcing her to stop and untangle it.

Halfway down, Garron whistled.

The sound was clear and birdlike, three precise notes. High, low, high. He waited, his breathing loud in the quiet. Elinalise stared up at the jumble of rocks above them, seeing nothing but stone and shadow.

He whistled again.

A moment later, a distinct clack echoed down from the crags, the sound of one stone striking another.

Garron let out a breath she hadn’t realized he was holding. “Okay. We’re acknowledged.”

“They could still shoot us.”

“They could. But they won’t. Not unless we do something stupid between here and the palisade.” He gestured downward with his chin. “Keep moving.”

The last part of the descent opened onto a flatter area strewn with the same grey boulders they’d seen from above. A narrow path, more defined now, wound through them toward the valley floor and the distant settlement. They were exposed here. Elinalise felt eyes on them from multiple directions though she still saw no one.

“Knife out,” Garron murmured.

She pulled the knife from her belt. The blade was stained dark from the bandit in the ravine. She held it awkwardly, point aimed roughly at the middle of his back as they shuffled forward.

“Not like you’re going to butter bread,” he said without turning his head. “Hold it like you mean it. Like you’ve used one before.”

She adjusted her grip, thumb on the spine of the blade. She had used knives before, but for peeling fruit at feasts or cutting thread, not for threatening a man’s kidneys.

“Good,” he said. “Now walk like you’re tired but victorious. Shoulders back. You caught Garron Red-Hand. That’s an accomplishment worth a little swagger.”

She tried to mimic the posture she’d seen guards use after successful drills—a weary straightness. It felt absurd.

The path joined a wider track that showed signs of recent cart traffic, deep ruts cut into the mud. They passed a tumbledown fence made of woven branches that marked someone’s failed attempt at a garden. The first buildings of Crow’s Perch loomed ahead, closer now and even more dilapidated up close. The smell hit her next—woodsmoke, unwashed bodies, animal dung, and something sweetly rotten underneath it all.

A man stepped out from behind a leaning woodshed.

He was lean and dressed in patched leathers, a notched hatchet hanging from his belt. His eyes scanned them both quickly, lingering on her knife at Garron’s back before settling on Garron’s face.

“Red-Hand,” the man said. There was no warmth in the word.

“Joric,” Garron replied, his tone flat.

“Heard you were dead after that Grenville mess up north.”

“Heard wrong.”

Joric’s gaze shifted to Elinalise. “Who’s this?”

“My captor,” Garron said before she could speak. “She’s claiming Marcus’s bounty.”

Joric looked her up and down again, his expression skeptical. He clearly doubted her ability to capture a fly let alone Garron Red-Hand. “That so?”

Elinalise found her voice. It came out harder than she intended. “It is. Where do I find Marcus?”

Joric chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, thinking it over. Finally he jerked his head toward the center of the settlement. “Long hall. He’ll be at breakfast.” A faint smirk touched his lips as he looked at Garron again. “He’ll be right pleased to see you.”

They moved past him into Crow’s Perch proper.

The place was a maze of uneven paths between haphazard structures built from whatever materials had been scavenged or stolen—warped planks, wattle and daub that was crumbling away, sheets of rusted metal hammered over gaps in walls. People stopped what they were doing to watch them pass. A woman stirring a pot over a fire paused, her spoon hovering mid-air as her eyes tracked them with cold curiosity through cooking smoke that smelled of onions and turnips bare moments away from boiling over completely judging by how soft they looked already honestly who cooked vegetables that long anyway it seemed criminal really but then again maybe everything here was criminal so it fit somehow she supposed while keeping her own expression carefully neutral under all those watching eyes that felt like they were picking her apart piece by piece trying to figure out what she was worth dead or alive probably both prices considered separately then added together for convenience sake no doubt.

Children with dirty faces peered from doorways before being pulled back inside by unseen hands.

Elinalise kept the knife steady though her wrist was beginning to cramp from holding it extended awkwardly for so long now while also supporting Garron who was leaning more heavily on her with each step his injured leg clearly barely holding any weight at all anymore which made their slow progress even slower honestly at this rate they wouldn't reach the long hall until lunchtime maybe even supper if they stopped for a nap along the way which actually sounded nice right about now but wasn't an option obviously so onward they went shuffling through mud that sucked at their boots leaving deep footprints behind them like markers for anyone who wanted to follow their exact path later for whatever reason good or bad.

She spotted Kael's forge as they passed an intersection between two slightly wider lanes. The building was larger than most around it made of rough stone with a heavy timber door currently standing open revealing a dark interior A faded red cloth hung over the doorway just as Garron had described She saw no firelight from within no sound of hammering which seemed odd for a blacksmith's forge mid-morning

Her attention snapped forward as two more armed men fell into step beside them one on either side They didn't speak just escorted them deeper into the settlement Their presence made the already watchful crowds look away quickly suddenly very interested in their own business

The long hall was exactly that a long low building with a sod roof and a stone chimney at one end Smoke poured from it The double doors at the front were propped open with rocks revealing a dim interior noisy with voices and the clatter of wooden plates

Inside was a single large room filled with rough tables and benches At least thirty people were eating breakfast from communal bowls A hearth fire roared at one end casting flickering light over everything

At the head of the room on a raised platform sat Marcus

He was indeed a big man with broad shoulders and a thick neck His hair was greying and cut short A pale scar cut across the bridge of his nose pulling one nostril slightly upward He wore furs as Garron had said—a wolf pelt draped over his shoulders despite the warmth of the room and another pelt across his lap He was eating stew from a wooden bowl using a chunk of bread to scoop it up He didn't look up as they entered

One of their escorts stepped ahead "Marcus Brought someone for you"

Marcus took another bite chewed slowly swallowed then looked up

His eyes went straight to Garron A slow wide smile spread across his face showing yellowed teeth "Garron" he said His voice was surprisingly high-pitched for such a large man "I heard you were dead"

"Seems to be a popular rumor" Garron replied His tone held no emotion

Marcus's gaze slid to Elinalise taking in her ragged appearance her knife her manacles His smile didn't fade "And who's this?"

Elinalise lowered the knife though she kept it ready at her side "I captured him After the ambush in Blackwood Pass" She forced herself to meet Marcus's eyes "I'm here for the bounty Fifty silver crowns you posted for him alive"

Marcus set his bowl down carefully He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand "Did you now" He leaned back in his chair which creaked under his weight "Garron Red-Hand captured by a slip of a girl with fancy silver bracelets" He chuckled The sound was wet "Tell me how you managed that"

"She got lucky" Garron said before she could answer "I took an arrow in the leg during the ambush Was hiding in a ravine when she stumbled on me I was weak from blood loss She had a knife" He shrugged as best he could while leaning on Elinalise "Luck"

"Luck" Marcus repeated He studied Elinalise again "You don't look like one of Grenville's hunters"

"I'm not"

"Independent operator then"

"I needed coin" She kept her answers short simple

Marcus nodded slowly "Fair enough" He looked at Garron again "You giving me any trouble today Garron?"

"No trouble"

"Good" Marcus gestured to one of his men "Lock him in the east storage shed Put two men on it Standard watch rotation" He turned his attention back to Elinalise "As for you The bounty is fifty crowns as posted Payment on verification that he's secured and no one else has a prior claim" He smiled again "You'll get your money by sundown Assuming no complications"

Elinalise's grip tightened on her knife "I need it now"

Marcus's smile vanished "You get it when I say you get it This isn't a market stall You're in my hall under my rules" He leaned forward planting his elbows on the table "You can wait here enjoy our hospitality Or you can wait outside Doesn't matter to me But you don't get paid until I'm satisfied"

A hand closed on her upper arm It was one of their escorts "Come on"

She allowed herself to be led away from Garron who gave her one last unreadable look as two other men took him by each arm hauling him off toward a side door He didn't resist

They brought her back outside into the muddy lane The escort released her arm "Stay out of trouble Don't steal anything Don't start fights Sundown at the hall" Then he turned and went back inside leaving her alone

Elinalise stood there for a moment feeling suddenly exposed without Garron beside her Dozens of eyes were still watching her from doorways from behind barrels A man sharpening a knife on a whetstone paused to stare openly

She needed to move She walked away from the long hall trying to look like she had somewhere to be Her feet carried her without conscious direction through twists and turns until she found herself back near Kael's forge

The open doorway yawned darkly No fire glowed inside No bellows wheezed

She approached cautiously peering into the gloom

The interior was one large workspace A cold forge dominated one wall its anvil sitting silent Tools hung neatly on pegs A staircase led up to a loft area Everything was covered in a fine layer of grey ash But there were signs of disturbance—a stool lay overturned near the door several tools were scattered on the floor near the anvil as if knocked off their hooks

"Looking for Kael?"

The voice came from behind her making her jump

A young woman stood in the lane She was perhaps eighteen wiry with soot-stained hands and hair tied back under a leather cap She wore a thick apron over plain trousers and tunic Her eyes were red-rimmed

"Yes" Elinalise said recovering herself "Are you his apprentice?"

"I was" The young woman's voice was flat "Kael's dead Grenville raid three nights ago They came looking for someone Someone with magic Probably you given those" She nodded toward Elinalise's manacles "They tore this place apart looking for hidden compartments When they didn't find what they wanted they took Kael out back and put a sword through him Left him in the mud"

The words landed like physical blows Kael dead The only lead gone Her mind scrambled trying to find another angle another path The manacles felt suddenly heavier their warmth sickening

"I'm sorry" Elinalise said because she didn't know what else to say

The apprentice shrugged looking past her into the dark forge "He was teaching me Lockwork Delicate metalwork How to handle enchanted bindings" She looked back at Elinalise her gaze sharper now assessing "I can probably get those off"

Hope flared sharp and painful "You can?"

"I've done similar work under Kael's eye Smaller pieces Lesser magic But I know the principles And I have his tools" She crossed her arms "But it won't be free"

Elinalise's hope curdled into familiar dread "I have no money Not yet"

"I don't want money" The apprentice stepped closer lowering her voice "Kael kept records He had notes on jobs he'd done for people all over including some high-up types before he fell out with Grenville In those notes he mentioned something about royal caches Secret stashes hidden by your family when Grenville attacked Supposedly one is somewhere near here Maybe even in these hills"

Elinalise went very still The world seemed to narrow to this muddy lane this soot-stained girl

"What do you want?" Her own voice sounded distant

"Information" The apprentice said "Tell me where it is The royal cache I get what's inside You get those cuffs off Clean trade No money involved No debts"

"You want me to betray my family's secrets"

"I want you to make a choice" The apprentice's expression was hard practical "Those cuffs are Grenville silver They're keyed They'll be calling every mage within ten leagues straight to you like dinner bells You can't run far enough You can't hide well enough Not with those on And from what I saw after they killed Kael Grenville isn't just looking they're hunting So you tell me where your daddy hid his treasure and I set you free Or you walk away now and see how long you last"

Elinalise stared at her The girl's face showed no malice just cold calculation She was offering exactly what Elinalise needed Freedom from the manacles A chance to vanish A chance to survive long enough for vengeance

But giving up her father's secrets Handing over what might be one of the last remnants of her kingdom's wealth to an outlaw's apprentice It felt like another kind of betrayal A deeper cut

Yet what good were secrets if she were dead or dragged back in chains What good was hidden gold if it stayed hidden forever while she wore these manacles until Grenville found her

The apprentice watched her waiting

Around them Crow's Perch continued its grimy life Unaware A child laughed somewhere A dog barked Smoke from cookfires thickened as midday approached From the direction of