Sliver lays the gold tray on the anvil and lightly taps it back into shape with his hammer. He lets out the breath he was holding, relieved that his dream wasn’t a prophecy. His eyes wander along the walls of the workshop, looking for where he left a cloth to buff it with. A movement catches his attention. Light is dancing back and forth on the wall like ripples in a pond. He squints at it, traces its origin to the tray, still untouched and unmoving. He lays one hand on it, and it prickles his skin in waves. His heart beats loudly in his ears. This is a feeling he’s only heard secondhand from his brother. He swallows his disbelief. Sometimes the metal really is asking for a beating.
His hammer falls heavier each strike, but the shock never reaches him. The way the hammer sinks into the gold makes it difficult to find his rhythm.
“Metal. Should be. Hard.” he seethes between blows. “You are. Pudding.”
Sliver adjusts his grip to better lift the hammer. The plate is already unrecognizable as an antique tea tray. He can feel its greed, and begins to understand why the rhythm is so elusive. The gold is tugging at his Path, making it into a moving target and forcing him to accelerate to catch up. He closes his eyes and focuses on the movement, swinging not in time with an inner metronome, but towards the cresting of a wave that washes over and through the gold foil. It lands with a satisfying resonance. With each step onto this new, more difficult Path, his confidence grows, and landing the next strike gets easier.
“It’s easier to forge if you actually use the forge, y’know.” Sliver startles at the sound of his brother’s voice, pulling him out of his trance.
“Oh? Afternoon, Tongs.” He sets down his hammer, and his arms suddenly feel like reeds.
“Afternoon, huh. You really got into it.” The room is dark. Sliver shrugs sheepishly, then realizes that Tongs can’t see the gesture.
“Jino’s gone. I wanted to uh, make something new with his ugly old tea set.”
“So what did you make?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see it.”
The dark room is quiet for some time.
“Well, I guess we’ll both find out what mess you’ve made in the morning.”
“I suppose so.”
—
The buffet is over. Oh well. I was full to bursting some time ago already. I can feel my form creaking, struggling to contain the surplus of energy. Luckily, this meal also gave me the opportunity to learn how my body changes shape. The heavy hard thing that the living kept hitting me with seems perfectly designed to move parts of me around. More interesting, I think I can manipulate that living. When it feeds me, it creates a groove in the space between us. I can make it strike where I want by moving the groove from my end. I had it shape me into something larger.
There are two living in the room with me. This creates some problems for me. I can’t tell them apart. I’ll need to work on that, because it would be a shame to lose such a good source of energy. I try to perceive details of the two, to find differences. To my frustration, they are remarkably similar. The new one is thicker, and makes rougher sounds. I’ll call it Rocks. The one that feeds me can be Knocks.
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They leave, and I test my new larger, thinner form. At some point, I need to figure out how to move like the other living do. Circulating my energy, I can make parts move a little. Slowly, slowly, I practice flexing my edges.
—
The moon rises, a vast disc of light on the other side of the Veil. Its light spreads over the forest, touching on the nocturnal creatures and shimmering in the ponds and springs. The clouds above are still, but for one. It drifts, long, pale, and thin like the finger of a wraith. The far end stays put, pinched in the Veil. Drips of Spirit trickle down it, all the way to the tip, and pull it to the nearest Path. The unfortunate creature slumbers, unaware of its approach.
—
Sliver rolls off his bed at the crack of dawn. He finds Tongs already in the workshop, peering curiously at the odd gold shape on the anvil. It looks like a large golden blanket with the corners tied together. He gets closer and feels it. It’s made of gold foil. He lifts it and flaps it in the air to clear it of dew. To his surprise, when it catches the air it puffs up into a hollow pocket. Feeling a bit overwhelmed so early in the day, he hands it to his brother to inspect.
“Hmm. A metal cushion. Good work. Strange, but good.” Tongs hands it back to him and prepares the forge for the day’s work. “Woodcutter’s gonna drop off an axe head for repair later, and Farmer’s lost a few tools. There’s your duties.”
Sliver wonders which Woodcutter might show up. It could be Lyle. The man never missed an opportunity to needle him about Jino. “I’ll handle the missing tools first,” he says, thinking to avoid a confrontation, and walks out the door still holding the golden pillow. The Farmers live on the far side of town, where the hills on either side of the valley are short and the stream is wide. They tend to several fields of grain and have the largest family by far. As he crosses their fields, he starts clapping to search out the tools. The pillow gets in the way, and he tries to collapse it by pressing it between his hands to force the air out. It doesn’t work. He slaps his hands together around it, and it emits a satisfying crack. But it doesn’t pop.
He scratches his head. It’s surprisingly sturdy for something full of air. But it is loud, and he can make use of that in his search. In a short time, he locates one of the tools laying in a rut. When he stands back up with it, he’s face to face with Payt Farmer. Her slightly-too-large eyes look him over and seem to find him lacking. She plucks the gold pillow from his stunned hands and holds it to the sky.
“What is this thing? It makes such a ruckus I thought the goats were breaking in again.” She squeezes it in a hug and opens her eyes wide at him. “Can I have it?”
Despite himself, Sliver’s face is bright red. “No, that’s- It’s a- Okay I don’t know what it is, but I’m not done with it.”
She shrugs and hands it back to him. “Worth trying. Works with beer. Speaking of, you haven’t treated me in a while. What’ve you been up to?”
“I’ve been busy. And Jino just uh, left a couple days ago.”
“What a shame. He had funny stories.” She closes her eyes in a solemn moment. “Did you get his house?”
“You’re a vulture, you know. And yes, I did. I don’t have any plans for it yet.” He looks her in the eyes for once, defying her to make requests during the mourning period. She relents.
“Fine.” She takes the tool from him. “What are you waiting for? Find the other ones.”
—
It’s harder to find his Path with Payt watching, but he manages to locate the remaining tools before noon. As she puts them back in their shed, she seems thoughtful.
“Can you teach me to do that?”
Sliver’s brow furrows. “It’s on my own Path. So probably not?”
“Can you teach me about Paths?”
He glances at her. “What would a Farmer need a Path for? It’ll just distract you and make you loony like the old man.”
“The Farmer life just isn’t for me, Sliver. I’d like to get out into the forest. Maybe as a Hunter.”
“Hm.”
“Not like THAT, idiot. I want to go on patrol, not be a Hunter Mama. I just need to develop some useful skills first.”
“A simple task for sure,” he says.
“Hey hammerhead, just tell me if this Path stuff would help.” She flicks his ear.
“Ow. Yes, you seem the type to have a Path suited for hunting. With your sneaking and your disregard for boundaries.” He looks over to see her grinning at him. Expecting him to give her what she wants. He sighs.
“Yes, I can teach you to find your Path. It’s mostly going to be on you to figure it out, though.”
“I knew you were the best man in town!” She chirps.
“Officially, I’m the looniest.”
“A walking contradiction, for sure. Will I find you at the old man’s house this evening?”
“You will now.”
