Blaze (The High-Born Epic) (25 page)

BOOK: Blaze (The High-Born Epic)
8.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

             
“What did Aunt Nean and Mrs. Annie-Jane have?”

             
“I’m pretty sure that those are bullets that fell out of the tank somehow during the fight,” he replied.  “They’re all made from High-Born metal.”

             
Harold reached and took the chain from Willie.  He began walking, and when the length of the chain tightened, he just leaned into it.  Willie’s eyes opened wide as Harold practically ran with it.  Once he was at the back of the shop, Harold reached down and picked it up as if it were a sack of corn meal, and walked into the forge with it.

             
As he walked inside, he saw Aunt Nean’s and Annie-Jane’s jaws drop.  Willie came in breathlessly behind him and he dropped it in the middle of the shop.

             
“I can forge this, Mr. Willie, but I need your help,” Harold said with a seriousness that caused the adults to look at one another, confounded.  “I aim to get the children back.”

             
“You’ll get yourself killed,” Annie-Jane said.

             
“I don’t know how I let myself believe this foolishness,” Aunt Nean said as she put her face in her hands.  “I’ve lost them, I can’t lose you too.”

             
Harold could see that they were beginning to lose their nerve.  He knew words weren’t going to be enough to harden their resolve.  So, he looked around and saw what he needed to change their minds.

             
He walked to the largest anvil in the shop, squatted beside it, and lifted it.  He held it out to them with only one hand.  Then, he lightly tossed it to his other hand and back again as they watched in amazement.  Flames rolled over Harold, and he stood there, silently, eyes glowing as his fire shone through the coming night, bathing all of them in bright light. 

             
Annie-Jane went to her knees, and put her face in her hands as she began crying again, but she didn’t take her eyes from the hope she saw standing before her.  Silent tears ran down Aunt Nean’s astonished face, and Willie started laughing and crying at the same time.  Sarah wiped her eyes and just smiled, proudly.

             
Harold focused his thoughts on the anvil and it began glowing red.

             
“I... 
will
... get the children back.  I didn’t know what to think when this first happened to me, but...” he hesitated as he looked at the others, “After tonight... I know that I am meant to fight the High-Born.”

             
They all looked at each other, still in stunned amazement.

             
“Mr. Willie,” Harold said, trying to force him into thinking.  “What do I need to do to make a sword and armor?”

             
“How are you going to fight them with only a sword and armor, Harold?” Aunt Nean asked.

             
“He can do other things too, Ms. Nean,” Sarah said as the others turned to look at her.

             
Harold flashed, and appeared behind them.  They all turned and looked at him.

             
“The armor is only for back up,” he said, and flashed back in front of them.  “I doubt they’ll even be able to hit me.  I want armor just in case.”

             
“Mr. Willie,” Harold said again.  “What do I need to do?”

             
Willie shook his head, and said, “We’re going to need a bigger hammer than any I have.”

             
Harold dropped the large anvil, and reached to it.  The redness of it faded as a sliver of fire ran from it into his hand. 

             
Harold looked around. 

             
The shadows jumped as he walked to one of the smaller anvils and lifted it.  He placed it on top of the larger anvil, and concentrated as he poured his fire over it.  It was red hot in just a few seconds.  Then, he grabbed it and began molding it with his hands.  After a two more jolts of fire, and a couple minutes of molding and twisting, a red hot square piece of metal that resembled a hammer head sat there.  He found a smaller hammer that he quickly melted.  He stretched and pulled on it until it became a glowing cylinder a little more than two feet long.

             
He plunged it into the square block and stepped back.  He reached for the fires within it and pulled them to him.  In the space of a few seconds, a cooled, anvil-sized hammer was laying in front of him.  He lifted it and swung it around a few times.

             
“Will this do?” he asked Willie.

             
Willie finally seemed to be getting hold of his senses, “Yes, given as strong as you are, and how much heat you can make, I think it might.  We probably need to start with the armor first, we won’t have to fold it.”

             
“Fold it?” Harold asked.

             
“We’ll worry about that when we start making the sword,” he said.  “Can you cool the metal without water?”

             
“To a point,” Harold said.  “I can also feed the fire from within myself if needed, but it makes me tired.  I won’t get as tired if y’all feed me air.”

             
“Nean, Annie-Jane, Sarah, get on the billows,” Willie said.  “I’ll man the water if we need it.  Alrighty, Harold.  Get that piece of tank armor up here.”

             
Harold picked it up and laid it on the anvil in the position that Willie told him.  After a few minutes of instruction, Harold heated the metal, and it took nearly a minute to get it hot enough to mold.  He did his best to keep the heat around him, and for the moment, Sarah and the others seemed fine.  Then he struck it, and sparks flew.  The women pumped the billows, and Harold hit it again, and a loud bang sounded.

             
An image of Ollie tiptoeing down the river bank flashed through Harold’s mind.  Another boom echoed around them.  He thought about Cooper the day they planted the seeds in the field.  He shouted and another boom echoed.  Scott wearing his burlap helmet and tapping him on the shoulders came to his mind.  Sparks shot over the women as another boom cascaded.  Willie gave some instructions as he poured some water over himself.  Harold saw Maggie spinning in her dress, and the entire room rattled as the hammer clanged.  Willie poured some water over the sweating women as he lent Harold his years of knowledge.

             
Harold could see Cooper running for the gate holding Ollie’s hand as he made a hopeless attempt to get himself and his little sister to safety.  Another shout echoed as the hammer thundered. ‘Fire-Man is my friend!’ reverberated in his ears as the hammer crashed down again.  His eyes began glowing brightly, and a trail of liquid fire trickled down his cheeks. 

             
Willie occasionally poured some more water over himself and the women as Harold hit the metal over and over, sparks flashing every time the hammer clanged.  Harold heard Maggie’s wail, and he saw her crying face and tear-filled blue eyes floating above the Kristall.  The flames on him began roaring, and the shadows in the forge trembled around them as Harold’s light beamed through the darkness.  He gritted his teeth and raised his hammer...

             
BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!

             
As the others used the billows to feed him air, they would sometimes glance at him...  The thing before them was no longer a young slave from Foxx Hole... It was something else entirely... The blue and red flames racing over the fiery creature in front of them bespoke of an elemental force...  And... It raised its hammer... 

             
BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!

             
It saw Willie’s sweating face tell it something.  It grunted as it grabbed the glowing metal, and bent the metal to its will.  Then... it raised its hammer...

             
BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!

             
It was something more than human.  It was a force of nature that would not be stopped.  It was the flaming harbinger of a forming storm... And they... could hear its thunder...             

             
BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!

             
It could feel the source of its fire beginning to overtake its thoughts. 

             
BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!

             
The feeling was strange.  It was powerful... And... It would find the children.

             
BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!

             
It saw Sarah sweating as she followed her father’s instructions. 

             
BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!

             
It was vaguely aware of Willie pouring water over Aunt Nean.

             
BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!

             
Long-denied justice burned within the creature as Annie-Jane wiped her brow.

             
BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!

             
Red-hot metal yielded to its strength.

             
BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!

             
It was aware of something going on in the town circle.

             
BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!

             
A blonde woman with puffy eyes looked to her left as she heard something, and a man in dirty overalls wiped his nose as he looked toward the blacksmith shop. 

             
A faint orange glimmer seemed to flicker from its door.

             
A distraught little boy with brown eyes whose best friend had just been taken tugged on his father’s hand and pointed. 

             
An orangish glow was coming from the blacksmith shop now. 

             
A man with a straw hat looked around, trying to find the thunder he was hearing.  A little girl with green eyes hugged her grandfather as he pointed out the source of the noise to his wife.

             
A bright orange light was burning furiously from within the blacksmith shop.

             
Soon, the entirety of Foxx Hole was looking in the direction of the blacksmith shop, and they could feel slight tremors in the ground every time they heard the strange thunder...

             
BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!                           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

             
                                         

Chapter 22

              About midnight, Harold looked up.  Willie was soaking wet, but he was actually smiling and drinking a cup of water.  Annie-Jane was sitting down in a chair, fanning herself while she drank water.  Aunt Nean dabbed her own face with a handkerchief as she downed the last of her water.  Sarah walked back in the forge with another pail of water, and handed Harold a mug.

             
He drank it swiftly, and then another just as quickly.  He filled his mug again and took a deep breath as he leaned back in his chair, and took a sip of water.  He looked at the ground in front of him.  Quite a bit of the metal still remained, and the various burned pieces littered the ground of the forge.  He looked back to his right at their creation.  Although it wasn’t a full suit of armor, it would cover a lot.  All of the pieces had been blackened so that they would not reflect the light well. 

             
The shoulders of the chest piece were actually going to hang over some, and were going to provide some moderate protection for his upper arms.  The forearm pieces had turned out very well, and thanks to some chains that he could tighten with a quick pull and snap, they would fit nicely.  He also had hand guards with chain bindings as well.  The girdle was made up of four pieces.  It had a rectangular front and back piece and two square side pieces linked together neatly with several short links of chain.  The thigh pieces fit under the girdle and could be linked with chains.  Small knee coverings also hung from chains, and he had two shin guards that could be buckled with chains.  Aunt Nean had just finished sewing pieces of metal onto Willie’s best pair of boots that fit Harold very well.  His helmet was very rough and angular and rose from his chin to a point just in front of his nose, and fell from his forehead in another point, but the two did not touch.

             
They checked to make sure that each piece fit, and they all fit amazingly well, especially for the conditions in which they made it.

             
“Okay,” Willie said.  “Take it off.  I’ve got some clothes that will be better to wear under it than your overalls.”

             
“Thank you, Mr. Willie,” Harold said as he looked at Cooper and Ollie’s present.  “These overalls are very special to me.  Especially now.  I would hate to lose them.”

             
Willie nodded his head and said, “I can’t believe how well the sword turned out,” he continued as he twisted and turned and looked at the blade.  “You’re a natural blacksmith, Harold.  That was a good idea to use the bullets for the sword.”

             
“It just seemed to make sense once I got into the groove,” he replied as Willie handed it to him.

             
It looked almost exactly like the samurai’s sword from Scott’s picture book.

             
“Well,” Harold said.  “I’ve had a lot of practice with Cooper and Scott.”

             
“You’re stronger and faster than any High-Born I’ve ever seen,” Annie-Jane said.

             
“I’m not really that tired, but I’m going to take a nap for a couple of hours and then I’m going to get them,” Harold said.

             
“Come on, Annie-Jane,” Aunt Nean said.  “He ain’t goin’ off without some food.”

             
Annie-Jane got up and followed Aunt Nean out of the shop.

             
Willie took a drink of water as he eyed Sarah.  She and Harold were staring at each other.

             
He leaned his head back and swiftly finished his water.

             
“I reckon I ought to go help those women,” Willie said as he looked at them again and walked out of the shop.

             
After he was gone, Harold smiled lightly at Sarah.  She stood up and walked over to him.  Her overalls and shirt were drenched, and her wet hair clung tightly to her face.  She lightly sat down on Harold’s leg, and cradled herself in his arms like she did when he would carry her across mud puddles.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder, and took a deep breath.

             
“You make me feel so safe, Harold,” she said as she nestled her head into his shoulder.

             
He hugged her more closely and kissed the top of her head.

             
“You’re my air,” he answered.  “I couldn’t breathe without you.”

             
She playfully lifted her head and smiled, “Was that a fire joke, Fire-Man?”

             
“Yes, it was,” he answered as he stroked the side of her cheek.

             
She put her forehead on his and looked into his eyes, “Well, you’ve always melted my heart.”

Other books

Rebel with a Cause by Natalie Anderson
The Relic Keeper by Anderson, N David
The Taking by McCarthy, Erin
From Fame to Shame by Blade, Veronica
Kristmas Collins by Derek Ciccone