Master blacksmith's Arc

Chapter 1 of 5

Aldric Dusk needed stone, and the only quarry he could reach belonged now to a wolf pack. He was a blacksmith with a bear's head and clawed hands, and he wanted one thing: a great forge in Deadhead, where every hero came to buy his unbreakable blades. But you cannot raise forge walls without stone. He crouched at the quarry's edge and counted them. Seven frost-wolves. Their fur held frost like white moss. One lifted its head and watched him, unafraid. Aldric had cut stone from this pit for three days. Then the pack arrived and claimed it. Now they slept on the flat rock he needed. His claws could split a boar's spine, but seven throats were seven throats. He backed away before they scented him. Without stone, his half-built forge stood open to the sky. Rain would ruin his coals. No walls meant no forge, and no forge meant no future. He returned to his camp near a two-story cabin of warm cedar logs. A woman sat on its wraparound deck, cleaning a curved knife. Brown hair fell past silver armor. A russet fox lay at her boots, ears up, eyes fixed on Aldric as he approached. The fox did not flinch at his bear's face. That told him the woman had trained it well. "You smell like fear and iron," she said, not looking up. "Wolves took your quarry." Aldric stopped at the steps. "Seven of them. Frost-wolves." "Eight, by now. There's a den under the north ledge." She stood and sheathed the knife. "I hunt wolves. It's the only thing I'm truly good at. You need that stone. I need a reason to stay sharp." She held out her hand. "Tori." He took it. Her grip did not shrink from his claws. That mattered to him more than he showed. They went at dusk. Tori sent the fox ahead to flush the pack toward the ledge. Aldric waited in the gap where the wolves would run. The plan was simple. Drive them into a narrow line, break them one at a time. The fox darted through the pit. The wolves woke snarling and gave chase. They poured into the gap exactly as Tori said they would. Aldric met the first with a swing of his arm and felt bone give. Tori's knife took the second in the throat. The pack turned to fight, then broke and fled north. By full dark, three lay dead and the rest were gone into the trees. The quarry was his again. Aldric knelt and pressed his palm to the cold flat rock. Stone enough for every wall. Then the fox growled at the north ledge. Tori crouched by the den and looked inside. She turned to Aldric, her face hard. "Pups," she said. "Four of them. The pack will come back for these. And next time they'll bring the whole valley's worth."