“Go carefully here,” Lilith whispered.
“Why?”
“There are death traps all along the way.”
Lovely, Warren thought bitterly. Like I needed another distraction while we’re doing this. But he slowly pushed his hand with the torch into the room.
TWENTY-TWO
I can let Lord Cross know you’re here,” offered the brawny woman at the doorway to the blacksmith. She perspired heavily under the leather smock she wore. Protective goggles hung around her sweat-stained neck. A leather strap tied her dark hair back, but loose hair hung in soaked ringlets.
Leah declined the offer. “Please. Leave him to his work. I can wait until he’s finished.”
The woman smiled at Leah. “Well, I have to admit the view is rather good.” She stared pointedly in Simon Cross’s direction across the room.
Embarrassment stung Leah’s cheeks. “I just didn’t want to interrupt him.”
Simon stood in one corner of the large room in front of a fiery forge that glowed yellow and orange from the heat. Like the women and most of the other people in the room, he wore a leather smock. He didn’t wear a shirt, however. Back and arm muscles rolled under glistening skin slightly reddened by the heat. A small boy, similarly dressed but with a shirt on under his smock, stood beside Simon.
The smell of metal and coal tainted the thick air inside the room. Hammers rang against a dozen anvils in a cadence that almost sounded planned. Leah knew it had to be a subconscious thing, though.
“If you’re not in a hurry, you could wait elsewhere,” the woman said.
“That’s all right.”
That brought on another smile from the woman. “You might be a while. Lord Cross is a lot like the other men when it comes to smithwork. Tends to lose himself in it.”
“I didn’t know you had a smithy here.”
“Somebody’s got to make the armor and weapons. It doesn’t grow on trees, luv.”
“I thought with all the technology you had that you’d be using nanoforges.”
“My name is Angela, by the way.” She offered a hand.
Leah took it, felt the power of the grip, and said, “Leah. It’s nice to meet you.”
“And you as well. I’ve heard lots of things about you.”
“Oh.”
“We might be Templar,” Angela confessed, “but we’re not above a bit of gossip now and again.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Angela crossed her muscled arms and blew a stray lock of hair from her face. She gazed out at the smithy with pride.
“For some of the armor and weapons, sure, we could use nanoforges. But the weapons that are made here don’t do as well when machines make them. These weapons need the hands of the person that’s going to be using them upon them. They need to feel the souls of the people giving them shape and meaning.”
“Why?”
“The men and women here fold arcane energy into the metal. You can’t do that with machines. Power like that is put into the metal through blood, sweat, and tears. Through desire and need. There’s no replacing that.”
Across the room, Simon used a pair of tongs to lift a length of metal. He pulled his goggles back on, then handed the tongs and metal to the boy beside him.
Over the years of their friendship, Leah had seen Simon around kids on several occasions. In the redoubt, it was almost impossible to go anywhere without having children underfoot. Leah didn’t mind because their presence made the cavernous underground vault feel more homey, which she’d believed more than once was the strangest thing she could have thought. She’d been in hotspots around the world and wasn’t looking for a home.
Simon had a natural knack with kids. Leah had seen him with them in the saddest of times, such as when he’d had to tell them that a parent had fallen in battle, and when playing conditioning games in the Templar exercise rooms. Under the right circumstances, Simon acted just as big a child as any of them.
With Simon watching, the boy held the length of metal in the forge. Then he pulled it back out and carried it back to the anvil. Simon demonstrated how to strike the metal with a hammer, and the boy followed suit. It wasn’t long before the boy’s cadence echoed that of the other smiths.
“Is he training the boy to make swords?” Leah asked.
“Yes, but not like you think,” the woman replied. “Simon’s training young Chandler how to make his own swords. He’ll have to make his own armor before he’s done, of course. But for now they’re going to make a sword for him to practice with.”
“Oh.”
“If you want, I’ve got a chair over at the forge I’m working at,” Angela offered. “You can come and have a sit. And watch your man.”
“He’s not my man,” Leah said.
“Sorry. That’s not what I’d heard.”
Leah started to ask the woman what she’d heard.
Angela cocked an anticipatory eyebrow and looked entirely too predatory for Leah’s tastes.
“Never mind,” Leah replied.
Angela looked a little disappointed. “Come along then. I’ve also got water. You’re going to need that if you’re going to stay here.”
As Angela had predicted, Simon stayed wrapped up in the sword smithing for almost two hours. Leah had felt certain the young boy with him would have lost interest in the work, but he hadn’t. In fact, he seemed somewhat saddened when Simon gathered the sword blade up and rolled it into protective cloth.
Holding his bundle in both arms, the boy went out the door smiling. Leah studied Simon as he watched the boy go through the entrance. Simon appeared strained and not happy. He hadn’t even noticed Leah was there.
“One of the new recruits,” Angela whispered into Leah’s ears.
“What do you mean?” Leah asked.
“I mean that’s not a Templar child, luv. By his age, Templar children already know how to make swords, bows, and other weapons.”
Simon is recruiting from the civilians. Leah remembered Lyra Darius telling her that and felt slightly sickened. Sending civilians up against the demons was tantamount to murder.
Then Simon’s eyes fell onto Leah’s face and she saw the
