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Chapter 19
Iawoke sitting against the wall and staring at the forge—the same position as when I’d entered that delicious fantasy. I felt better. Not just rested, but also confident.
Mrak would come for me. He’d come and destroy his brother. And all I had to do was be ready to help. Be ready to stab Sylas with the very weapon he’d wanted me to make for him.
I just hoped Mrak could get a ward from Leif, and get it to me in time to enchant this sword.
I glanced out a small window high on one wall, where the smoke was fed outside from the forge. The night was still strong. There was still plenty of time to finish this project and make a back-up plan, just in case.
So, I picked up the sword and began to sharpen and polish it. To make sure it was ready for Sylas tomorrow.
One way or another.
