“I’m sorry.” I traced my finger over the trigger and then up to the rail. “What is this hollow section in the bolt for?”
Bowen leaned closer and wrapped his warm fingers over mine, guiding my hand from the blue flame to the hollow groove. “When the trigger is pulled, a trace amount of magic infuses the compartment. When the bolt strikes its target, the blue flame is injected, causing whatever it hits to freeze. A field, a lake, even an enemy.”
Despite the warmth emanating from his skin, I shivered, imagining such a brutal cold. “And your magic supplier can acquire a blue flame? They’re rare for a reason.”
He let go of my fingers, though his gaze seemed to linger on them, sliding up my palm to the visible birthmark on my wrist that signaled my gift. “Can you transfer this type of magic?”
“Of course.”
“Then my supplier can get it.”
I studied the drawing again, a sliver of anticipation sliding through my body. It had been a while since I’d created something so unique. You can get sick of working with enchanted steel. Everyone always wants to get their hands on an enchanted blade, but they’re actually pretty boring.
This, however? This was a challenge. A type of magic I hadn’t handled before. My favorite kind. His request shouldn’t have surprised me though. Bowen was a collector of the rarest artifacts, and a collection like his could speak volumes of the man who assembled it.
“I have to ask, what is it about weapons that appeals to you so much?”
He was slow to respond. The shadows from the hanging lanterns danced across his face. It occurred to me I might not like his explanation, yet I waited anxiously, wondering if it would match my own.
“I admire the skill in the craftsmanship.”
I frowned. The answer itself wasn’t disappointing—I relished in the creative process myself—but it felt like a surface revelation. It didn’t dig deep enough.
He must have read my disapproval because he asked, “You don’t like my answer?”
“Is it the truth?”
His thumb found my chin, lifting it until our gazes locked. “It’s a half-truth. Most people don’t like to hear the rest.”
I swallowed, held captive by him in a way I wasn’t used to. “I’m not most people.”
“No, you’re not.” He dropped his hand but leaned in with the rest of his body until my back was pressed against the edge of the workbench. He was going for intimidation, testing me against his assumptions of society. If I retreated, I failed. If I was appalled by whatever words spilled from his lips, I failed.
Somehow, I knew I wouldn’t fail.
“It’s true I find beauty in the craftsmanship, but there’s also something seductive in the purpose.” The thumb that touched my chin now trailed the surface of an unmolded bar of steel sitting on the workbench. “To have an object that gives you power over another is significant, because often, power is taken from us. It can be a test of will to surround yourself with that power and keep it in check when everything inside you begs you to let it loose.”
My gaze roamed over his scars. “That sounds bloodthirsty.”
“Maybe I am.”
The soft rasp of his voice made my breath catch. He didn’t realize it, but we’d found equal footing. I too had felt powerless, stripped of my freedom, and instilled with the desire to never let it happen again.
“That’s the answer I was looking for.”
He studied me for a long moment with an expression I couldn’t decipher. Finally, he shook his head as if clearing his thoughts and stepped back. His throat cleared.
“Now that you’ve gotten the place in order and know what needs to be done, I should leave you to your work. Make a list of items you’ll need, and any tools.” His sharp gaze found mine on that one, and I had the decency to look guilty. “I’ll handle the rest.”
He left me with the scroll and crossed the room, slowing near the entrance. His hesitation made me curious, and I caught him shaking his head again, almost as if he were trying to come to a decision.
“Was there something else?” I asked.
“I realize it’s a lot to ask to be trapped down here all day.” He paused, and I could see those warring emotions on his face again. “Anyway, I thought since you’re so obsessed with optimal lighting, you might want to take a break in the training room this afternoon. Say, two o’clock? Ms. Wilder can give you directions. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
I gave a cautious nod.
Bowen hesitated another second and then thumped his fist lightly against the stone wall. “All right then. See you this afternoon.”
