The forge is on Hyara, a volcanic island South of Qyaryll.
It's midnight. The darkness is alive with crashing metal, showers of sparks and the hissing of steam. Exhausted workers swear at their crafts. Sweat oozes from their foreheads. Massive bellows feed fires underneath sheets of white-hot metal.
Two figures stand on a steel balcony, staring out at the moonlit ocean. The forge's red light blazes behind them. Their shadows quiver and tremble.
"How many changelings did you kill?" Kath says.
"Two weaker ones," says Liar. He's a pale kid, perhaps seventeen years old. Dark, tangled hair creeps down the back of his neck. "I got them near the end."
Kath sighs. "Was Firay one of them? Nico?"
Liar shakes his head. "They both escaped. I'm sorry."
"You've failed us, Liar."
"It's... difficult for me," Liar says. He clenches his teeth, and sparks leap from his fingertips. The air hisses and blurs with heat.
"You mustn't use your powers-"
He snarls. "I could kill you if I liked."
"But you won't, will you?"
There's a moment's dead silence. Hammers crash and bellows wheeze behind them.
Liar looks away first. "I don't want to be here."
"Answer one more question, then you may leave," Kath says. "Why did you capture that girl? It would've been easier to let her die."
Liar scowls. He is silent for a long while, his fists clenched. Eventually, he says, "She's a lightning gatherer. You can use her as a hostage, can't you?"
"I suppose you're right," Kath says. She laughs bitterly. "That's not your true reason, is it?"
He mutters something under his breath and turns away. "I'm leaving."
"Good luck, spy. You're our greatest weapon."
Liar flinches.
Then he walks off without another glance, his cloak trailing behind him. As soon as Kath is out of his sight, he starts to run. His ears throb from the noise of the forge. His footfalls clatter against suspended iron platforms. He sprints down stairwells, his head low, his eyes blazing with anger.
Finally, he comes to the beach. The air is cooler here. The water stinks of mud and sulfur. Liar pulls his hood over his face and crosses the stretch of black sand. He reaches an ancient dock overgrown with creepers and pale lichen. The beams are rotten and spongy underfoot.
An iron boat is waiting for him there. Someone is already sitting inside it, watching him with catlike green eyes.
Liar manages a smile.
"Done," he says.
Firay laughs. "You took a while."
"I killed two allies," Liar says, "I'm sorry. I couldn't afford to blow my cover."
The boat's engine roars to life. They shoot away from the island.
"You know," Firay says, her voice barely audible over the whirring of the motor, "I'm curious about whose side you're really on."
YOU ARE READING
Rami
FantasyRami is a child of the lightning gatherers. On a stormy night when she was six years old, she was gifted uncanny powers by her older brother. After that, he vanished without a trace into the darkness. Eight years later, on a trip to the distant...
