“Switch,” James called, ducking out of the way as Max moved in to take over the bellows. James ran outside and dunked his head into the water barrel, and downed a large gulp of water. James could feel the smile pulling at his lips as he walked back into the forge. The fire roared, and the clang, clang, clang of Ser Edwin’s hammer felt more and more like home in these last few days since Max had arrived.


    Stepping back in to take back over the bellows, James said, “Okay, I got it.”


    “Keep it steady, this is tricky work. The temperature needs to be just right or the metal won''t bond to itself.” Edwin’s bark of orders came. This was their second attempt bonding a stack of different pieces of metal together. Last time, something had gone wrong in the billet, causing the end to bloom open like a flower. “Steady, boys.”


    One-Two-Three-Four, Pull. One-Two-Three-Four, Release.


    “You’re going too fast. It''s gonna open again,” Max said, counting out loud with James’s pulls.


    “I got it, Max, we got this.” James said, keeping count in his head.


    Ser Edwin pulled the billet out of the fire; it was a bright red, nearly glowing white. Ser Edwin moved it to the anvil fast, raising his hammer in an even rhythm. Each strike on the metal was followed by a tap on the anvil. Bang, tap, bang, tap, bang, tap. The metal grew with each powerful strike before he placed it back in the fire, wiping sweat from his brow.


    “Good work, boys, the bonds are holding.” Ser Edwin’s grin was genuine as he nodded in approval at the boys.


    The billet came out again and again. Each time, following the same pattern—bang, tap, bang, tap. The rhythm itself, hypnotic, Max switching in and out as James’s arms cramped. Slowly, little by little, the billet became a flat, long piece of metal.


    Edwin moved quickly, dunking the glowing hot metal into the barrel of oil. James crossed every finger he had.


    Please let it be straight, please let it be straight.


    The bubbling was so loud, but there was no telltale tink that the metal had cracked or warped. Slowly, as it was still hot, Ser Edwin pulled it from the oil, holding it at eye level.


    “It''s straight,” Edwin said, the joy dripping with each word. “Good work, boys.”


    “Whoo-hoo.” Max jumped up and down, his free hand slapping James on the back. James placed his hand on his knees, the exhaustion of the last few hours overtaking him.


    “So, it''s a sword now?”


    “Not yet, Max, there is still work to be done. But this part is over, now we shape it, sharpen it, and put a handle on it.” Gingerly, Ser Edwin set the not-sword down on the anvil. “But for now, I believe that it''s time for you boys to show me Earth stance.”


    Both boys let out a long groan but quickly moved out to the pit as they had come to call it. Max taking up a one-armed stance, and James picking up his blade. Ser Edwin followed behind the boys, circling slowly as each boy moved from one pose to the next.


    Thwak.


    Pain lanced James’s bicep.


    Thwak.


    “Ouch.” Max jumped nearly a foot in the air. “Dat hurt.”


    “Pain is an excellent teacher.”


    “But I got a broken arm,” Max said, fixing his footing.


    “Your legs still work.” Ser Edwin circled, twice more, his grey eyes watching every little movement.


    The boys had practiced each movement nearly non-stop when not in the forge for the last few days. Miss Silvia pushed through the gate, a large basket slung over one arm.


    “Enough. Time to eat.”


    “Still working them to the bone, I see. Will you not let up, Edwin?” Miss Silvia pulled up to the house, waiting patiently at the door. “They are boys, they need rest to grow properly.”


    “They sleep.” Ser Edwin held the door open for her. “Will you come in?”


    “Thank you. And rest is not just sleeping. Tomorrow is Sunday. Let me take them to the river. I am in need of fish, and I fear I am not much of a fisherwoman.” Miss Silvia smiled, a look that reminded James of a cat who had cornered a mouse. Ser Edwin let out a sound somewhere between a harrumph and a growl. She slowly patted Ser Edwin’s cheek. “I will take that as a yes, since words have seemed to fail you.”


    The food was wonderful. James had never eaten so much fresh fruit and vegetables. He had never known such things existed—pears, raspberries, strawberries, carrots, and more.


    Tonight was a stew made with fresh herbs and potatoes. James’s mouth watered at the earthy smell. She also brought a loaf of fresh-baked bread and a thick cut of butter.


    “Miss Silvia, I ain’t never had such nice food,” James said around a chunk of bread that had been dipped in the stew.


    “I am merely taking care of my boys,” she said, rifling his hair. “It has been a long time since I had anyone to take care of. It feels nice.”


    The grunt Ser Edwin made seemed more an acceptance of fate than an acknowledgment that he wanted someone taking care of him, but James had noticed that Ser Edwin’s eyes seemed to soften when Miss Silvia was near. He wasn’t as short with them either, it’s almost like he liked when she was around.


    “Boys, I need the forge scooped out before bed, make sure you pile the ash safely in the boxes so it doesn’t catch in the wind and set fire to anything. Then off to bed with ya,” Ser Edwin cut himself another slice of bread, looking thoughtful. “I’ll take the ash to town tomorrow and sell it, see if I can get ya boys your own aprons, so we can start your training properly.”


    The look the boys shared over matching faces full of food set Miss Silvia to laughing, and Ser Edwin trying not to laugh. James had to try hard not to spit his food from his mouth. Max was not as successful, which set a whole new round of laughter.


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    James was so tired when he finally climbed the ladder to his room, each limb heavy and slow to move. His muscles protested with each rung he climbed. He could hear Ser Edwin and Miss Silvia below, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not make sense of what they were saying. All his mind wanted was to close his eyes and fall into the darkness of a dreamless sleep. James didn’t remember climbing into bed, but it was so warm and the pillow so soft. He was asleep before he could even pull the covers up.


    The dark swirled around James; all at once, his awareness came back to him.


    “Hello, James,” the voice was soft and ephemeral. “I have waited a long time to meet you.”


    “Who are you? Is this a dream?” James turned his head, trying to find the voice. No matter where he looked all he saw was black mist. “Where are you?”


    “So many questions. I guess it''s only natural.” Long, elegant, graceful fingers clasped either shoulder; he could feel the warmth of each word on his cheek. “I had a name long ago, but I fear in my slumber I have forgotten it, and yes, this is a dream.”


    James’s shoulders relaxed. In dreams, things couldn''t hurt you. He was safe. The dark grew around him, a deep cold sank into his bones.


    “You are no more safe here, little seed, than you are in your body,” the woman whispered in his ear.


    With each word, the voice became more clear and more feminine.


    There was a long silence. James nearly spoke, but each word froze in his throat.


    The voice giggled. “I can touch you here far more than I can reach you out there, little seed.”


    “W-W-Why are you calling me that?” James tried to turn to face the voice, a shiver running up his spine, but all he saw was the mist.


    “Because that’s what you are. My little seed, growing to be something much better than human.”


    No matter which way he turned, the voice and hands stayed fixed just over his shoulder.


    “Rest now, little seed. I will see you again soon. I wake a bit more each day.”


    James jerked awake, cold sweat rolling down his brow. He could hear the morning rooster calling the start to the day. Slowly, James sank back down to the bed. He could still hear the whispers and feel the lingering touch on his shoulders. He closed his eyes against the morning light and thought hard at himself.


    It was only a dream, only a dream.


    “I hear ya, boy, might as well come down and help with breakfast. Miss Silvia will be along shortly,” Ser Edwin called up the ladder. “Get a move on.”


    James washed his face, trying to scrub away the nightmare, slipped on his boots, and hurried down the ladder. He could hear Max doing the same from the other room; he and Ser Edwin had converted from a storeroom.


    “Fishing,” Max yelled, getting to the bottom of the stairs. “It be a long time since we gon fishin.”


    “Yeah,” was all the response James could muster, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.


    The smell of morning oats and toasting bread hit him then, all tiredness evaporating from his body.


    “Morning, boys,” Miss Silvia said, standing just outside the door. “Something smells good.”


    “Come in, Miss Silvia,” James and Max said at the same time. “Jinx.”


    “You should not jinx your friends, boys. It is bad luck,” she said, wiggling her finger at them.


    “Sorry, Miss Silvia,” James said, following his nose to the little kitchen they all seemed to share.


    The kitchen was full of activity as Ser Edwin moved to serve the oats, cut the bread, and drink from his stein. James got the feeling he was trying to show that he could take care of himself just fine.


    The smell of something burning hit them then, and the string of words Ser Edwin let out James had never heard before. James thought they might not be in the common tongue.


    James quickly pushed past the larger man, scooped up the burning toast, and tossed it to the side, cutting four new slices and leaving them to toast next to the warm fire.


    “Thank you, James, that was mighty thoughtful,” Miss Silvia said, to a flushed-looking Ser Edwin who just grunted and took another drink from his stein.


    “I’m off to town. I got the ash and other orders loaded. No need to wait for me.” Ser Edwin pushed out the small kitchen door, leaving the boys to gape and grin at Miss Silvia. Their excited energy was almost palpable.


    “Grab the toast and you can eat it while we walk,” she said, turning to the door. The boys leapt to their feet and marveled only for a moment as the fire in the cook oven dimmed and went out. They still found these little magics wonderful. “Come along now. The fish will be out for their morning meals as well.”


    The walk from the forge to the river was peaceful in the morning air—the crisp grass underfoot, the songbirds singing to the new day’s sun. Even the fog had started to blow away, the first sunbeams glowing through the canopy of trees.


    Today is going to be a good day.


    The river was slow-moving, but deep and wide during the summer months. When it got warm, the kids from the town would often sneak away to come swimming here in the small pools that formed on the edge of the river.


    James could hear it before he saw the river, the slap of the current against the rocks, the bubbling that never seemed to go away. He breathed in the scent of fresh water, the fishing pole slung over his shoulder feeling lighter, the ache in his neck and back easing just a bit.


    Miss Silvia led them to just off the worn path to a little pool created by a circle of rocks. Fish the size of James’s arm swam there, nibbling at something just under the surface. Slowly, the boys lowered their lines into the water, not wanting to spook the fish. But a small rock was knocked free and fell into the water, scattering the fish.


    “Drat,” Max called, stomping his foot. “Dey were good ones.”


    “Patience over haste, Maximus. You will have plenty of time to catch us fish today,” Miss Silvia said, spreading out a large blanket on the bank of the river. “Today is about more than just fishing.”


    Max moved a bit more downriver, casting his line out into the river before taking up a cross-legged seat and starting to whistle tunelessly. James let his line rest in the pool, lost in thought. So much had happened over the last week, it was hard to believe such little time had passed. He didn''t quite believe it.


    “I know that look. Where have you gone off to?” Miss Silvia called, a small book in her hand.


    “Nothing, just can''t believe all that’s been happening. Ya know?” James tossed his line back out into the river. “Seems like only yesterday I was practicing to go off to war. Now I might get to stay here with Ser Edwin, Max, and you.”


    “You know Max may still have to leave and I can not stay forever.” Miss Silvia''s face turned dark for a moment. Before she smiled at him.


    “What do you mean?” James turned his head to look at her. “I thought he was safe now like me.”


    “He is and he is not. Max is safe from the school and the Master’s grip. But Ser Edwin is only allowed one apprentice by law. So if the Imperium pushes or the Master does, he will have to go.” She gave him a weary smile. “But that is still a ways off and I pray each day that does not come to be.”


    “But that’s not fair.” James said, the fishing pole and line were forgotten as he stood to face her. “It’s not right.”


    “The world is not always fair, James.” Miss Silvia looked sad as she reached up to touch the locket she always wore. Just then there was a splash as something fell into the water. James’s fishing pole was just inside the water, quickly being pulled downstream.


    “Shoot.” James screamed, kicking off his boots and diving in after it. The river was strong today, but James was a good swimmer. Soon he caught up to the pole and grabbed hold of it, but whatever had grabbed the other end was strong too. He wrestled, trying to get a hold of something, but whatever was on the line kept pulling him deeper into the middle of the river. His head was pulled under as he gasped for breath. He held tight to the fishing pole and didn''t want to lose it. Ser Edwin had entrusted it to him. James thought Ser Edwin would be so disappointed if James lost it. Somewhere in his mind he knew he should let go, but he didn''t want to. James reached deep down inside him. To that dark spot the voice in him lived and pulled. It was like he had been stung by a lightning bug; a small jolt of energy shot down his arm, and he watched a small glow surge down the fishing line. Then, all of a sudden, the line went slack. James swam for the surface, his lungs burning and legs aching. Strong feminine hands grabbed him, hauling him to the edge of the river. Air poured into his lungs, as he gasped for air.


    “What was that?” Miss Silvia’s tone was stern, her hair-dress damp and hair clinging to her face.


    “I don''t know,” he said sheepishly, “I just reached…”


    “You could have died chasing that stupid fishing pole. You should have just let it go.” She pulled him from the water, her eyes sparked with anger. He didn’t quite understand. “Did you at least catch the fish?”


    James pulled at the line, there at the end was the largest bass James had ever seen. It took most of his strength just to lift it to shore. James could hear Max’s shout for joy, but something inside him felt wrong, felt off, like a door had been left slightly ajar.