I had a hundred questions but dared not ask a single one. I was only recently an apprentice and knew well the role expected of a junior in the presence of masters, especially those set to test his worth to join their ranks.

  I stood, bowed, and led them out of the room, across the short walk to the column, and then through it to the stairs. I awaited the first of them to follow me, and it took them a few seconds to work up the nerve before leading them down the six-foot-wide, winding stairs.

  As they descended, the stairs wound around in a spiral, giving a good view of the enormous lower chamber and the more than twenty crafting stations positioned there. Even with so many stations, only perhaps a third of the large space was occupied.

  Bella, after I reach the bottom stair, please sound the bell three times gently and separately inform those down here, except the dwarves, to assemble rapidly at the large forge. I sent her my request as I was just about halfway down the stairs.

  True to her exacting nature, as soon as my left foot touched the last stair, a bell chimed three times for all to hear, including the dwarves, but they did not get the summons.

  I led the dwarves to the center and largest of my three forges. The last of those teams working down here were just arriving. I stopped, turned, and bowed to the dwarves. I then faced the others, mostly university students and apprentice or journeymen gemcutters. “Friends, I must ask that you all retire to the main level and await my summons. It might be some time, and if you would care to take a meal break, the kitchen is open, or you may retire to your homes as needed. Thank you for your diligence in the defense of our city.”

  Several of the students seemed to want to ask questions, but the dour expressions of the three dwarves dismayed them, for which I was very grateful.

  One of the younger apprentices who had assisted me at the forge earlier in the day, when I made a batch of fourteen copper rings, approached.

  She bowed. “Patron, would you like me to assist you with the forge?” She was very nervous in front of the dwarves, but still managed to do what she saw as her duty to me. I was very proud of her bravery.

  I smiled. “Thank you, but no, Daria, it is proper that I see to the forge and fire myself. You may join the others for a meal and then head home. You should have stopped your duties hours ago.

  She bowed again. “Sorry, Patron, I got lost in my work. It makes me happy.” She bowed to me again and then to the dwarves for good measure, and then, showing her age, ran to catch up with the others.

  I looked back at the dwarves, unsure how they might respond.

  They looked at each other and then at the youngest of the three.

  “You have passed the first of three trials. You have shown proper respect for forge and fire, craft and crafters-” and he added, “of all ages and skill.” And he gave me a large, toothy grin.

  The other two dwarves scowled at him but remained silent.

  You have impressed them, Gwydion. Bella said in my mind. They approve of you, but there is something you should know-

  I interrupted her in my mind. I must do this alone, Bella. Please wait for me to reach out to you. This is important to me, and it must be done according to their culture and ways.

  She remained silent, but I felt frustration and concern for me building in her. As long as I was in no physical danger from them, I knew she would respect my wishes.

  I removed my enchanter’s robe and rolled my shirt sleeves up past my elbows, and secured them there with buttons designed for that task on my sleeves. I removed the silver bracers and each ring, making a place for them all respectfully on a clean cloth that I laid out for that purpose. Several of the rings were Dwarven Copper.

  I then walked to a nearby basin of fresh water and carefully washed my hands, face, and arms. I repeated the ritual three times just as my master had taught me.

  In truth, I usually only did it once thoroughly, but three times thoroughly is how I was taught, and so I began the ritual of forging.

  After washing and drying myself carefully, I slowly began to gather choice pieces of wood, dismissing every third or fourth piece stacked before me. I took my time knowing that I had one chance at this. I stirred up the hot coals under the bed of ashes and assembled the wood so that ash, flame, and air would be maximized. Once a solid wood fire was going, I added choice pieces of coal, which would give me the correct temperatures I sought. I also dismissed some pieces of coal in favor of others. I would need the fire hot for the task at hand, but it would not need to burn for hours. I suspected that I would be done one way or the other in ninety minutes. I could normally do the work in half that time, but showing off would be unwise.

  I positioned the medium-sized cauldron that we used for purification on top of the forge. It was of a special design that I was certain the dwarf masters would recognize, as it was Sundance’s personal caldron that was well-worn but serviceable. It is the cauldron he used for his own trials, and I remember his many stories of that daunting ordeal many decades ago.

  The cauldron was mildly magical. It had a spigot on one side that defaulted to the top, but could be moved down the side of the solid metal container and would drain off the molten contents at whatever position it was placed. It was a higher-end version of a similar device that came standard with the crafter forge kits, common outside of true metal forges. It was one of seven cauldrons that ranged from small to quite large.

  A large chest sat nearby, but not in a way that blocked the working of the forge or me around it. I walked over to it and filled a copper-lined white oak bucket with copper coins using a copper forged hand shovel. I walked back to the cauldron with it, along with a second empty bucket. I inspected the copper coins and counted out 128 of them, each a gleaming ounce of copper. I discarded half of the coins I inspected, allowing no overly worn, dented, or otherwise imperfect coins to enter the cauldron. I went back twice to get the right coins, making three trips in total.

  The remainder of the process was smooth and routine. I separated and purified half of the molten copper a total of seven times. One hundred twenty-eight ounces became 64, which became 32, 16, 8, 4, 2, and finally just a single seven-times-purified ounce of copper.

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  I chose one of Sundance’s molds, but my own etched inserts for three wide rings. I carefully poured the copper into the inserts; it was the most physically and technically difficult part of the process. I cooled the metals slightly in a secret recipe prepared briney water and then, pausing to look around me and ensuring that I was alone with the dwarves, began the secret process of converting the purified copper into Dwarven copper through application of a secret powder composite made of truly important ingredients such as milkstone and false ingredients such as red pepper and cinnamon. A second dowsing followed this in a different watery mineral solution with exposure to a bright blue-green, magically lit stone.

  I paused to look around, ensuring my privacy multiple times. Sundance insisted I do this seven times throughout the preparation and always right before and after dowsing. I made sure that I complied with his instructions even though Bella would have warned me if others were present.

  The dwarves watched my every move. I felt they counted my every breath as I labored to ensure perfect creations to honor Sundance and his trust in me.

  The secret process completed, I removed the rings from their individual inserts and placed them upon a cold granite countertop near the chest of coins. I left them there as I returned to the basin, bathed again three times, and put my robe back on.

  I returned to the rings and carefully sanded the interior surface to a shining copper that accentuated its reddish-orange outer surface even further. I then buffed and polished each one, inside and out. When I was satisfied with them, I stamped my jeweler's sigil on the inside of each ring using a specially designed padded clamp on the edge of the countertop. I then reached into my robe and withdrew a black satin cloth bag, and taking my time, I removed fifteen magically cut, 7pt gems. I chose three each of ruby, topaz, sapphire, tourmaline, and emerald.

  The dwarves had remained motionless when I pulled out the gems, but all three stirred slightly at the sight of their favorite of all gemstones, the emeralds.

  The rings being physically prepared, I cast the spells necessary to insert five sockets into each ring. I then chose each gem’s power and inserted one of each type into each of the three rings. I made sure that the emeralds were the final gemstones inserted.

  I was very fortunate that I had been full of casting points because this process used up thirty, just a bit shy of my maximum.

  I then stood, bowed to each of them in turn, starting with Master Copperheart in the center, Master Warmforged to his right, and the youngest Master Anvilblade to his left.

  The masters stood still.

  I stood still.

  After perhaps five minutes of standing in silence, Master Copperheart asked. “What are your plans for the rings?”

  I was surprised by his question, but I answered honestly. “I have a commission from the Duke to prepare magical rings in preparation for the goblin invasion that is expected in less than a week. These rings are destined for those in service to the city.”

  All three visibly relaxed. I realized that they feared I had made these magical rings as bribery to them and against their honor. I had never considered it, but I am very glad I had not. Based on their reactions, it would have been a terrible insult.

  They were eying the rings, however.

  Master Copperheart said, “With your permission, young forger, we will inspect the rings.”

  I bowed and stepped away from the countertop. He had not asked me a direct question, and there was no need at this point for me to offer an explanation.

  The three masters each moved to the countertop and removed a different ring. They inspected their chosen ring carefully, feeling it for imperfections before smelling it and licking it. Finally, they placed the ring upon their hand, its magic allowing the ring to enlarge to fit across their large knuckles. Without speaking to me or each other, they passed each of the three rings around, giving each the same treatment.

  I had deliberately chosen different functions in the gemstones for each ring. The five stones represented the five elemental powers, but had very different abilities.

  The first ring was designed to be an offensive weapon. Each stone presented an elemental attack, such as firebolts or pebble blasts. The second ring was protective, with abilities such as protection from heat and flame, as well as protection from water. The third ring displayed diverse abilities, including water walking, levitation, and enkindling weapons, among others.

  I felt the magic was worthy of a master enchanter, and the metalcraft was my finest work. I hoped it was worthy of a dwarven master.

  They deliberated quietly among themselves, and I could not overhear what they said.

  After a few more minutes, they turned, and Master Warmforged said, “You have passed the second of three trials. You have shown careful skill for forge and fire, metal and stone.”

  With that, the two masters who had spoken their approval of my work turned and departed the way they had come, leaving only Master Copperheart.

  He stood silently until they had wound their way up the staircase and the echoes of their metal-shod boots could no longer be heard echoing around the empty lower chamber.

  I yearned to ask questions and had to restrain myself. I actually began to sweat, and I was not close enough to the forge to use it as an excuse.

  As soon as the last echo departed, Master Copperheart moved over to the forge and began to remove his jacket and shirt. “It’s just you and me, laddie, and with your permission, I’d like to have an hour of your time.”

  I blinked a couple of times and then moved over to him. “Of course, master.”

  “Better take the fancy mage thingy off. You’re going to get sweaty and dirty again.”

  I smiled and repeated the process of preparation, but this time we did it together.

  “You have plenty of copper coins in that chest of yours?” He asked.

  “I do.”

  “Good, then fetch 512 of them. I am going to teach you how to make a protective circlet. You can’t work the forge without one. What was Sundance thinking?” And he actually made a tsk tsk sound.

  We went through the entire process together. He made me do nearly all the work, except when showing me a technique made more sense than merely directing me. We ended with four molten ounces rather than one, and he removed a special mold from his pack after setting others aside. Surprisingly, his mold was made of the same type and color of stone as the one I used, which had been Sundance’s.

  He pointed out a couple of nuances with the secret dwarven metalwork, including suggestions on how to better position my body for long hours at the forge and how to hide true ingredients.

  He explained, “The cinnamon is well known to so-called researchers trying to figure out our clan secrets. They assign the magical red hue of the copper to it. Personally, I just like the smell, but it is totally useless.” And he laughed deeply. “Our red color, of course, comes from the complementary nature of the magical cyan stone.”

  The cyan stone was the deepest of dwarven copper trade secrets. The secret of their origins has been lost to time, according to Sundance. But its magical radiance helped to fix the magical properties into place and was used during the final dousing of the forged object.

  Sundance was a master, but Copperheart, I learned, was a grandmaster. It was a privilege to have even an hour with him.

  I could see his movements slowing as we neared the end of our hour together, the final process of the crafting nearly completed. He truly acted like he wished he could spend more time down here with me, forging metals. I suddenly had a deep admiration and fondness for this dwarf.

  A little time later, when I had finished polishing the copper circlet to my satisfaction and then buffed and polished it three more times to the grandmaster’s satisfaction, he took it from me and did something unexpected. He cast magic upon it.

  He handed it back. “You may place five sockets into this circlet, but do so around the sides or back. It is best to conceal your power and have it appear as a mere affectation. Dwarf masters all wear them, and it will not look too out of sorts on a human.”

  I felt free to ask him about his magic since I had been asking unprompted questions during this whole past hour.

  “What did you cast upon the circlet, Grandmaster Copperheart?”

  “It is a spell all masters learn during their apprenticeship. It protects the user from heat, fire, and flame.”

  “Is it the same as the fire resistance effect on the second ring, the topaz?”

  “Nearly, but this one is deeper, stronger, and more subtle. You could swim through molten rock and not get burned, although,” He thought out loud, “over prolonged time, you might lose the clothing you are wearing. But it would take a while.” He smiled again.

  “I’m not sure how to select where to insert the sockets,” I admitted out loud.

  He tilted his head. “Have you ever tried to direct how they appear, or do you just go with it?”

  “I guess I normally just go with it.”

  He shrugged. “If you are not able to choose, then whatever its formation is, it is, but try to focus and direct where they are placed. Give it a try.” He encouraged.

  “I will need to recover magic, grandmaster. I apologize for the delay.”

  “No need.” He responded and waited while I retrieved and drank two minor potions of magical restoration and gave myself back twenty casting points.

  With his renewed encouragement, I tried to direct where the sockets would be located.