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Good times, indeed. And I hoped there were many more to come.
* * *
I drove home. Eva was spending the night with Violet Fox, her best friend, so the mansion was dark and quiet when I went inside. I took a long, hot shower to wash Richie's and Sierra's blood off me, then changed into a T-shirt and some jeans, along with a pair of boots and some heavy blue coveralls. I also retrieved the hammers from the trunk and cleaned the blood off them.
Even though it was after two in the morning now, I felt energized - galvanized, even - so I grabbed my hammer and went to my forge.
Two stone walls held up the pointed slate roof, but the other two sides were open so the air could flow inside and fuel the fire. It wasn't as large as Cooper's forge - not even close - but it was mine, my own space for me to do my own work.
I flipped the lights on and got started. It didn't take me long to light the fire, arrange my tools, and select a piece of iron to work with. In fact, I found comfort in the familiar routines, just like Gin did with her cooking.
Once the iron was properly heated, I picked up my hammer and reached for my magic, feeling the cold, hard power rising up out of the pit of my stomach, flowing through my shoulders, down my arms, through my hands, and all the way into my fingertips. The hot iron began to whisper in anticipation of how I might shape it, while the other bits of metal in the forge chimed in, wondering what I was going to do next. I drew in a breath, really focusing in on my magic and gathering up more and more of it. The whispers of the metal intensified; it knew what was coming next. When I had a firm grip on my magic, I slowly channeled it into my hammer, until the silverstone was humming with raw power - just like I was.
Then I brought the hammer down.
I hit the iron time and time again, making sparks erupt and zing through the air like fat red bumblebees before the sticky humidity of the night snuffed them out. I ignored the sparks and focused on the metal, until I could feel each and every bit of the iron, down to the smallest shaving. Then I started whispering back to the metal, not with actual words but instead with my magic, coaxing it, molding it, sculpting it into the exact shape that I wanted.
A couple of hours later, when I was finished, I looked down at the piece I'd created, examining it from every angle. It was good, certainly better than my other attempts to make this particular shape, but I could do better still. I would do better - for Gin.
Because she deserved the absolute best in all things, but especially from me.
I knew what I wanted to do with the shape now, what form I wanted it to take. Phillip had actually given me the idea, with all his talk of flowers, candy, and jewelry tonight. I just hoped that the finished piece would be as meaningful to Gin as it was to me. Either way, I'd spend the next few weeks, maybe even the next few months, working on it. Sketching and resketching. Shaping and reshaping. Forging and reforging until the piece was the best that it could be.
For her, for Gin.
The woman I loved, the one I was determined to win back.
Oh, I knew that I didn't deserve a second chance with her. Not really, not after everything that I'd done, not after all the ways that I'd hurt her. But damned if I didn't want one anyway. Maybe that was selfish of me. Maybe Gin would reject me outright. Maybe she'd say that too much had happened and we could never get back what I'd made us lose.
If so, I wouldn't like it, but I'd live with it. Just like I'd live with the memories of what Salina had done and how I'd failed to stop her. Jillian's death. And all the other things that haunted me these days. But penance was about atoning for your sins and trying to make things right. That was all that I could do.
I just hoped that it would be enough for everyone - Phillip, Cooper, Eva, and especially Gin.
I reached up and grabbed the horseshoe that I'd hung over the entrance for luck when I'd first built the forge years ago. I replaced the horseshoe with the piece that I'd made tonight, stepped back, and admired it. A small circle surrounded by eight thin rays. Such a simple shape but so powerful at the same time. It looked good hanging there, just like I'd known it would.
Satisfied, for tonight at least, I made sure that the fire was cold, turned out the lights, and left the forge. I reached the back door of the house and glanced over my shoulder.
In the distance, moonlight bathed the forge in a soft, silvery light, making Gin's spider rune wink at me from its new perch. I grinned, winked back, then headed inside to bed.
My penance had started.
