Metal Mage 5, page 17
I looked down at the Mage’s Mark on my hand and watched my fists flex and turn as I twisted my wrists this way and that, and a sudden surge of adrenaline pumped through my veins as the half-elf’s words really sank in.
Then my eyes snapped to a lump of steel.
My first thought was there was just no way it could work. It would be too outrageous. But, the more I thought on it, the more my magic burned in my veins, and I had to try.
So, I reached out my palms and closed my eyes, and as I did, I ignored everything the complex stock of metal sent back to me. I narrowed in on one lump of steel instead, and this time I did read it, but I didn’t let my mind scatter like it had before. I carefully measured the alloys of the steel, as well as the strength and the density. Then I took a deep breath and let my mind bind with the metal.
It was like I’d melted into steel, and in the same way that I could change my resolve, I began to change the metal.
Not its shape this time, but the metal itself. I felt it give a little here and gain a little there, and I could balance it or imbalance it anyway I pleased. Not because I controlled it, but because I was part of it and keenly aware of its makeup.
I didn’t know how long I sat there in silent concentration, or how I knew when I was finished, but when I opened my eyes again, the lump of steel looked exactly the same.
I could feel the residual connection between myself and the steel though, and I knew exactly what I’d just done. If I was right, the alloys of the metal itself were not remotely what they’d been only a minute before.
My heart thrummed wildly as I reached out to pick it up. Then I separated out a portion of the steel and began to mold it into the shape of a bow.
I elongated the metal into a rod before I flattened it out into a plank only a thumb width thick. One and a half inches seemed like enough width for the grip, so I started there in the center and thinned it out carefully where the curve of the limbs would begin before I let it widen out again at each tip.
With a rough shape in place, I smoothed the edges out to a more elven style similar to the glaives I’d seen. The metal was sleek and polished when I finished, and all that was left was to bend it. I let out a tendril of my magic and carefully softened the metal as it bowed, and when the curve was right where I wanted, I let it harden again and released the connection.
The metal held the sleek shape beautifully, and the slender limbs of the crossbow glinted as I turned it over in my hands. By now I knew damn well I’d done it, but I tested the spring of the metal anyways and nearly laughed as the limbs gave way to my grip just enough before they sprang back into shape.
“Godsdamnit,” I chuckled. “How the hell is this realm even real?”
The high-yield steel should have taken careful heating and quenching and tempering to achieve, and that would only have been if the steel had possessed the proper carbon content to begin with. But by binding wholly with my element, I’d managed to adjust the carbon content itself. I’d completely obliterated the process and redefined the metal with my own power.
I shot to my feet and made a beeline for the three women with the frame of the crossbow still clutched in my hand, and as I approached, they turned away from the little metal man who tightrope walked along a silver limb for them.
Aurora opened her lips to say something, but I beat her to it.
“I just created spring steel,” I blurted when I stopped in front of them, and the amount of pride that surged through my limbs nearly exploded out through my eye sockets.
Cayla did her best to look enthusiastic, but I could see she was as blankly confused as Aurora and Shoshanne. The three women looked like they expected me to say something more, but eventually, the Aer Mage shifted awkwardly.
“You what?” she asked.
“Spring steel!” I practically hollered. “I just fucking created it. With my mind.” I was so stoked I could have jumped out of my skin, but the excitement seemed like it was completely lost on the others.
Then Stan made a running leap from the limb of the silver tree, and as he landed on Cayla’s shoulder, he took a power stance I felt to my core.
I pointed to my little buddy with a giant grin.
“I know!” I told him. “I fucking know. I can’t believe it either.”
Stan scrambled down the princess’ arm, and she quickly extended it so he could make another jump and land on my outstretched hand.
My grin spread from ear to ear as I held the crossbow up for the little man to see, and as he grazed his arm along the metal, he slowly turned his faceless head up toward mine.
I nodded, and Stan shook his head in disbelief like he needed to sit down.
“Me too,” I told him as I worked to steady my pulse. “I don’t even know what to do with myself right now. This changes everything. I thought it was just … but it’s not. I just … I can’t even wrap my mind around this … ”
The muscles in my cheeks began to burn from smiling for so long, and I wandered off into the glade with Stan as I babbled intensely about the millions of things I could accomplish. I told him about my wildest ideas and the particulars of how I’d done it, and I might have even gotten off on an existential tangent at some point as well.
The women must have thought I’d lost my fucking mind, and I probably had for a second, because I was genuinely confused when I heard someone call my name.
“Huh?” I called back, and I looked around until my eyes fell on the three women who stared at me from across the glade.
Cayla propped her hands on her hips and raised her voice a little louder. “So, did you make the new weapon?” she asked.
I’d forgotten about the crossbow in my hand, and when I looked down to find it there, I realized I hadn’t wiped the giant grin off my face yet either.
I chuckled to Stan and shrugged. “Yeah,” I finally responded. “Why not? That too.”
Chapter 12
“So, you’re saying you changed the composition of the metal?” Cayla asked. Her blue eyes were keen as she leaned closer, and I flexed the limbs of the crossbow once more to show her the effect.
“Exactly,” I said with a broad grin. “I adjusted the carbon content and then treated the metal just enough to give it a higher-yield. So, it’s still steel, but it’s called spring steel.”
Cayla nodded as she listened carefully while Stan nodded along from his spot on her collarbone. “And you can use it for many things as well?”
“That’s the best part,” I told her. “Since it bends just enough for a little flexibility, but it returns to the exact same shape without losing any tensile strength over time, I can use it for the frame of the bows as well as the mechanism I’m attaching.”
Aurora smiled from the other side of the chunk of metal in front of me. “Which is?” she asked curiously.
“I need to make sure I can build it first,” I admitted. “I know how the concept works, but I’ve only ever seen it on what’s called a repeating bow, and I want something more than that. I want something strong enough to account for the tension of the metal and the style of shooting the elves are accustomed to. And I want the magazine to require less effort to reload. A repeating bow needs to be pumped, kind of like the shotgun. This weapon should be able to reload with only the pull of the bowstring.”
“What’s a magazine?” Shoshanne asked. She was cross legged at my other side, and she twirled a shuriken absentmindedly between her fingertips.
“Think of it like the bullet chamber in the revolver combined with a quiver,” I told the Aer Mage. “A magazine is a mechanism that’s spring loaded, so you can load several arrows into it, and the springs will press the arrows up and into place on their own with your next draw.”
Aurora’s lips curled upward as she considered the design. “I want one,” she said decidedly, and I sent her a wink.
“Everyone’s getting one,” I assured her. “No elf I make a deal with is gonna have a weapon I don’t get to fuck around with as well.”
“Really?” Cayla asked, and the eagerness in her voice was clear as day.
“Hell yeah,” I replied. “I’m making one for each of you, one for me, and probably about twenty for House Fehryn. Thrungrig knows how much I like steel, so there’s just a shit ton of it in that sidecar. If Rhys and his warriors can’t get an upper hand on House Natyr with twenty of these babies, then there’s seriously nothing I can do to help them. But in all likelihood, if I can get the mechanism right, they’ll probably kill every one of Onym’s men off within the week.”
I sighed at the thought. It was a dangerous one, but House Natyr had put a target on all of our backs, and so far, they were the only elves in Nalnora who hadn’t shied away from acting on it.
Shoshanne raised her brows and let out a low whistle. “You’re gonna start an all-out war with these things,” she pointed out.
I shrugged. “Hey, I don’t dabble in elven politics. I’m just the guy with the metal. What these elves do on their own time is out of my hands.”
Cayla smirked. “They haven’t taken any of your warnings seriously so far.”
I nodded my agreement and split a piece of steel apart from a large chunk of the spring steel I’d formed.
Then I began to mold it into several small springs about an inch long. As I pinched one of the taut coils between my fingertips, it gave a little too easily, so I adjusted the tensile strength until it was where I wanted it to be. The other springs shifted as well, and soon I had at least forty of the miniature springs in a pile in the grass, and I turned to Cayla, who still leaned closely as she watched me work.
“You gonna help me with the assembly?” I asked her with a sly grin.
Her blue eyes sparked as she met mine. “Please?” she said with a chuckle. “This looks like fun.”
I leaned over and placed a kiss on the porcelain beauty’s lips. “Well, we’ll see if you’re still singing the same tune after nearly two dozen of them.”
I decided to focus on the more challenging aspect of my idea first, and since I already knew how to create a mechanism for a crossbow, I pulled a lump of standard steel from the pile and started on a prototype of the magazine.
The arrows I’d gotten from House Fehryn would need to be shortened into bolts to keep the magazine compact enough, but I wanted to keep their signature arrowheads. Their stealth factor would no doubt increase with the new weapon, and I didn’t want Onym to doubt for a second where the deadly onslaught came from.
The acute hatred I’d seen between Rhys and Onym made much more sense after my meeting with the leader of House Fehryn. Granted, I didn’t have any intention of choosing sides in the rivalry of the elves, but if Onym had slain Rhys’ brother, I didn’t mind helping him at least even the score. The black-eyed elf was a ruthless fighter, and whatever had happened, I didn’t doubt the elf’s death had been a slow and painful one, and one that Rhys most likely ended up witnessing himself.
The thought of Onym getting another chance with Rhys’ younger brother made my gut churn, but if I could get this mechanism to work, the black-eyed elf wouldn’t even be able to get close enough to try.
I pushed the rivalry of the elves out of my mind as I broke off a piece of steel and laid an arrow out beside the metal crossbow to gauge the length I would need. I figured with a reservoir about sixteen inches long, the elves could load ten bolts without the magazine disrupting their aim too much. So, I formed the steel into a chamber wide enough to house the serrated arrowheads and kept it as sleek as possible to minimize weight. Then I created several small screws and washers, and I drilled three holes in the bottom of the slim chamber.
I secured three taut springs inside before I welded the chamber to a long thin rod that would be mounted just above the grip of the crossbow and would extend outward to catch the bowstring.
There would have to be some sort of lip at the top of the chamber so the next bolt could slide out and into place, but without having the bowstring attached, I wasn’t sure of how to do this, so I turned my attention to the cam system of the crossbow.
I made two slender disks first, then I carved the metal out so the cams were substantial enough to support the pulley system, but light enough that the crossbow wouldn’t be weighed down anymore than necessary. Each one had three ridges to rig the cables of the pulley system properly, and I mounted a finished cam to the end of each limb with a small but sturdy metal clamp and a few more screws.
I tested their rotation and decided they were a little too stiff, but it only took a few minor adjustments to the mount in order to correct this. Once the movement of the cams was fluid enough, I pulled a length of bowstring from one of the spools Rhys had given me and threaded it through the pulley system, so there were two cables that crossed each other midway between the limbs and a third that served as the bowstring itself.
I lifted the crossbow and flexed the bowstring to test it, and the cables rotated through the pulleys perfectly. The draw gained tension against the metal frame for only a moment before the steel gave slightly, and the cam system allowed for a fluid and easy draw.
I’d never seen a crossbow constructed entirely of steel, but I decided it was a damn shame. It looked incredibly awesome in the elven style.
It had only taken me a couple of hours to get this much accomplished, and I lifted my sights to see what the women were up to in the clearing.
Shoshanne tossed three shuriken with one hand, and with a slight tilt of her wrist, they scattered and impaled three trees at once.
Aurora and Cayla stood a little ways away, and it looked like the half-elf was giving the princess a lesson on how to properly wield the glaive she’d won from our run in with the elves from House Natyr.
I watched Cayla imitate a few of Aurora’s practiced swipes before I turned back to my work.
It almost seemed like overkill to hand the magazine crossbow to the women as well, but I figured in a land like Nalnora, the word overkill didn’t necessarily have the same implications.
With the cam system fully functionable, I moved on to mount the rod that held the magazine to the frame of the bow. Then I pulled the bowstring a few times to get an idea of the loading mechanism I needed to create.
The distance between the magazine and the arrows would need to be regulated to avoid any accidental firing, so I extended the wall of the chamber past the cable and created a slender groove along the center where the bowstring would need to travel.
I was happy to see this design served as a cable guard to keep the cables out of the way of the arrows, as well as a loading mechanism that was its own arrow rest. When the bowstring was drawn, it glided along the groove, and if I added a lever at the back, I could rig the magazine to release an arrow as the string caught on the lever.
The first lever I created released all five arrows at once, and they sprang up and jammed the entire mechanism the second I drew back.
“Shit,” I cursed.
I looked more closely, and as I considered the difficulties of the set up, I decided to remove the magazine completely and remount it sideways instead. This meant the springs would have to apply tension from the loading end, and I adjusted it so it would load from one side of the chamber and release from an opening at the other.
I designed a lever that could be raised in order to load the bolts, but when it was lowered, the spring that weighted it would provide the tension needed to keep the bolts in place. Then I adjusted the release lever near the bowstring so it was taut enough that only one bolt could slide past at a time.
It was awkward to try and aim with this broader set up though, so I added a handle just big enough for a few fingers at the back end of the magazine. This gave me somewhere to steady my grip as I held the bowstring back, and as a last touch, I attached a small sight circle to the top of the reservoir near the grip.
The sun had slid toward the horizon as I slowly worked and reworked the design, and Aurora had already made a small fire by the time I finished the last few details.
When I finally stood to test the prototype, the three women abandoned their practice at last and came over to join me.
“Here we go,” I said as I leveled the steel crossbow and took my aim through the sight on the top of the magazine.
Then I drew the bowstring back, and a slight click echoed as it caught on the release lever, and the topmost bolt strung itself. When I released the string, the arrow streaked straight across the clearing and impaled a tree at the edge of the glade.
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “Did you see how fast that went?”
Aurora laughed and ran over to the bolt. When she turned back to us, she wore a huge grin on her face as she called across the glade. “It’s half-buried,” she told me, and I lowered my arm.
“That has to be at least a hundred pounds of pull,” I muttered as I shook my head. “And what was the speed?”
Cayla looped her arm in mine. “It couldn’t have taken more than two seconds to reach that tree,” she guessed.
“Probably about eighty feet,” I chuckled. “This thing is a beast.” I imagined the elves of House Natyr trying to stalk through the trees with these at the ready, and I nervously scruffed the hair at the back of my head.
Shoshanne may have been right about starting an all-out war. At the very least, I sure as hell was about to piss off a lot of elves.
“Can I try?” Cayla asked as she tightened her hold on my arm and sent me an eager smile.
“That’s probably a good idea,” I mused, and I passed the crossbow to the princess. “There are more bolts in there, so see if you can shoot them accurately in succession.”
“All I have to do is pull the string?” she clarified as she took her stance.
“That’s the idea anyway,” I told her. “Let’s see if it works in reality.”
Cayla took a breath and steadied her aim while Aurora jogged back to our side. Then she drew the bowstring back along the groove, and another soft click slid the next bolt into place.
I grinned as she released the string, and the bolt buried itself just below the other in the trunk across the glade. Cayla quickly took another draw, and within five seconds the reservoir had emptied one arrow after another without a single hitch.
