Chương 139: The Best Thing He'd Ever Built

The handcart hit a rut and nearly tore itself free from Cal's grip before he wrestled it back on course, wincing at the unholy shriek of iron wheels rattling over cobblestones. The sound was somewhere between a dying cat and a blacksmith's worst day, amplified by the narrow street into something that turned heads. An old woman on a porch clutched her shawl tighter and glared at him as though he'd personally offended her ancestors.

"Morning, ma'am!" Cal grinned and kept pushing. The cart was a flat-bedded ore hauler built to withstand the daily punishment of Yorrin's forge, and it handled the uneven streets of Deadfall with all the grace of a boulder rolling downhill. Beneath a canvas tarp, his cargo shifted with each bump. I cannot wait to see the looks on their faces! He had spent the better part of a week and a half on this thing.

Applied every new Skill he had learned from Yorrin, plus a few he brought from home, along with enough trial-and-error to fill a textbook. If it survived the journey from the forge to the Hearthsong, it could survive anything. Snow drifted down in fat, lazy flakes, melting on the cobblestones and turning the morning air into something that bit at exposed skin. Cal barely felt it.

A slow circulation of Mana through his channels and a touch of Intent kept him warm; the technique Lyraethis had mentioned to him was now as natural as breathing. He could even use it to keep himself cool in the forge. The linen shirt and loose trousers he wore were comfortable in either environment, and wearing something so minimal during the tail end of winter drew as many stares as the bouncing cart.

A pair of foresters gave him a wide berth, one nudging the other and muttered a question about whether that was the tournament fighter with the forge cart. Cal ignored it. He had somewhere to be. When the Hearthsong Inn materialized Cal steered the cart around to the stables and parked it under the overhang. After checking the tarp one last time he headed inside the kitchen. Gareth stood at the central prep station, methodically reducing a joint of venison with his cleaver while two junior cooks bustled around him.

"Morning, Gareth!" Gareth's cleaver paused mid-stroke. Those deep green eyes tracked Cal for exactly one second before he nodded and resumed his butchering. Cal continued through the kitchen's organized chaos, searching the stations as he went and noting that Leo's was empty. He looked at it for a moment before he pushed through the swinging door into the common room. The breakfast crowd filled roughly half the tables while Cassia flowed between them, refilling drinks and delivering food with a kind smile.

Corinne was clearing a four-top near the hearth, stacking plates dangerously high. She spotted him first.

"Cal!" She nearly dropped the stack, pulled off some magic balancing act to catch it against her hip, then beamed at him.

"You look like you haven't slept in a week, and it's only been a few days! Did you finish your project?"

"Yeah, it's done," he replied as he closed the distance.

"The mystery project you were so insufferably secretive about after we got back to the inn the other day?"

"The one and the same."

"The thing you wouldn't tell me about, even though I've asked approximately ten times?"

"Twelve. I've been counting." She set the plates down on the nearest empty table with a clatter that made Cassia glance over.

"Well? Are you going to tell me about it now, or do I have to hit thirteen?"

"I can do one better than telling you; I'll show you." He glanced around the common room.

"Is Leo around? I thought he'd be in the kitchen." The eagerness in Corinne's expression dimmed slightly. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and adjusted the plates she'd just set down, buying herself a moment.

"He starts his baking early nowadays. Before first light, mostly. Then he takes breakfast over to Mira's house and helps her mom with the morning routine." She met his eyes, and something pointed entered her voice, softened only by the grin that followed it.

"You'd know that if you had been coming around." Cal took the gentle rebuke in stride.

"I know, and I'm going to be fixing that. Today."

"Alright, mystery man. Let's see what you've got." Cal caught Cassia's eye across the room and tilted his head toward Corinne. The innkeeper evaluated the common room's half-cleared tables and manageable crowd, then gave a small nod. Corinne was already untying her apron. He led her to the handcart, where the tarp-covered object hunched on the flatbed, bulging and shapeless beneath the canvas. She circled it once. Twice. Then she reached for the edge of the tarp. Cal caught her wrist.

"Nope! Not yet."

"You are killing me, Cal."

"Patience, patience. It's not for you, anyway."

"Exactly! Then it shouldn't be a big deal if I see!" He laughed at her shamelessness.

"What can I say, I'm greedy and want to enjoy everyone's reaction all at once. Now lead on, I don't know where she lives." Cal pulled the cart back out into the snowy lanes and Corinne fell into step beside him, practically vibrating with curiosity, her questions coming in a breathless stream that Cal deflected with a succession of maddening non-answers. The walk to Mira's house took less than ten minutes and Cal noted the proximity to his own home, only three streets over.

Mira's was a tidy, single-story structure of whitewashed timber with a slate roof and a window box that someone had filled with wintergreens. It was nicer than most of its neighbors, and well-loved. He parked the cart at the front step. Corinne straightened her clothes, took a breath, and knocked. The door opened to a sturdy woman in her mid-forties with Mira's blue eyes and none of her daughter's softness. Her brown hair was pulled back tight, and the lines of her face spoke of long hours and short sleep.

She took in Corinne first, and her expression softened.

"Corinne, sweetheart. Good to see you." She looked at Cal and the warmth died, as something cold settled behind her eyes." You." Cal met her stare without flinching. She likely knew who he was by reputation, and he couldn't blame her reaction. He'd have felt the same.

"Good morning, ma'am."

"Is it." The words weren't a question. Corinne stepped forward smoothly, her mother's daughter in every savvy way that mattered in that moment.

"It's so good to see you again, Vonda! You must recognize Cal Valorn. Cal, this is Vonda Jain, Mira's mom. We won't keep you long Vonda, but Cal's been working on something special for Mira. We were hoping she could come out and see it?" Vonda looked down at the tarp-covered cart, then back at Cal, suspicion written plainly across her face. From somewhere deeper inside the house, a curious voice called out: "Mama? Who's at the door?"

"Nobody important," Vonda said, loudly enough to carry.

"That's definitely somebody," Mira called back.

"Nobody important doesn't come with Corinne attached." Corinne leaned past Vonda and raised her voice.

"It's me and Cal! He's brought you something! It's big, though, and might not fit inside!" A pause. Then Vonda's posture stiffened as Mira's voice returned, directed at her mother now.

"Let them in, Mama. Please."

"Mira—""Mama." Mira replaced her gentleness with a stern patience that had been through this argument enough times.

"It's not Cal's fault I was stabbed. Evil men do evil things. If it was his fault I was stabbed, it was also his fault I made it home alive." Cal stared at the worn paving stones beneath his boots and said nothing. Vonda frowned for a moment, then reluctantly stepped out of the way. Leo stood in the hall beyond. Mira was in his arms, cradled against his chest, her legs hanging limp and still. She had lost weight.

Her cheekbones were sharper and her skin paler, but those calm blue eyes held the quiet certainty Cal remembered from the training yard, from a young woman who'd always seen more than she said. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Leo locked eyes with Cal. The emotions that crossed his face were a storm compressed into seconds. Hurt, first. Anger, as his arms drew Mira closer. Then something else.

The stubborn loyalty of a boy who hadn't made a lot of friends and didn't want to give one up. Cal looked at Leo. At Mira in his arms. At the dark circles under Leo's eyes and the flour dust still clinging to his sleeves.

"I'm sorry I've been gone." The words came out quieter than Cal had intended.

"Cassia thought you might need some space and I… well. I had something I needed to build." He gestured toward the cart. Leo looked at Corinne. She nodded eagerly, bouncing on her heels. Together, the group moved outside, Vonda trailing behind with her arms crossed. When everyone was standing around the cart, Cal gripped the tarp. He'd rehearsed this moment in his head a dozen times during the planning and construction, imagining something dignified and understated.

What actually happened was that he yanked the canvas free in one theatrical sweep, sending a small avalanche of accumulated snow into his own face. He wiped his eyes and stepped back expectantly. Nadda. The object sat on the cart's flatbed, polished and gleaming in the morning light. Corinne tilted her head. Leo frowned. Mira squinted at it, biting her lip.

"... Uhh," Corinne ventured.

"What is it?" Cal looked down at his creation. His father had built things for a living. Functional and sturdy things, machines that worked because every weld was true and every bolt was torqued to spec. Robert Foster had spent twenty years trying to drill that blue-collar gospel into his white-collar son, and Caleb had spent just as long resisting it. Funny how the things you fight hardest to forget are the things that save you. The frame was the backbone of Cal's creation.

He had forged it from an alloy of tin, bronze, and a low-grade spirit ore he'd sourced from Yorrin after the smith had told him about the combination. It produced something remarkably close to aluminum in strength and half as light. The tubes were thin-walled and precisely bent, joined at stress points with rivets he'd welded with cranked up applications of [Thermal Manipulation] until the metal fused seamlessly.

Two large static wheels flanked a wooden seat and armrests, their spoked hardwood rims purchased custom from a wainwright on the south side of town who had been confused but willing. Two smaller wheels sat at the front, each mounted on a vertical pivot that allowed them to swivel freely. The wood was padded with layered wool and covered in stitched leather he'd bought from a tanner. Push-handles extended from the backrest at a height Cal had estimated for Leo.

Hinged wooden footrests folded in from the front of the frame on simple pin joints, measured to his memory of Mira's legs. It was ugly. It was rough. The welds were visible, the leather stitching was uneven, and the left front footrest had a slight wobble he hadn't been able to correct. It was also the best thing he'd ever built.

"It's… Uh. I call it a wheelchair," Cal said. The word meant nothing to them. Of course it didn't. He lifted the chair from the cart and set it on the cobblestones, pushing it forwards a foot.

"It's a chair with wheels," he said, speaking carefully now.

"A person sits in it, and they can move. Someone pushes them from behind, or," he gripped the wheel rims, demonstrating, "the person pushes themselves. It's an opportunity for mobility for someone who can't walk." Corinne got there first. Her eyes went wide, and she spun toward Mira, practically vibrating out of her boots.

"Mira, don't you see? It means you can come out with us again! You can come to the inn, go to the market..." Her voice cracked, and she pressed both hands over her mouth for a moment before dropping them.

"We can do things together again!" Mira stared at the chair. Her lips parted, but nothing came out. Leo looked down at the girl in his arms, then at the chair, then at Cal. His expression was unreadable.

"Put her in it," Cal said quietly. Leo hesitated. Then he stepped forward and gently lowered Mira into the padded seat, barely breathing. Her hands found the armrests. She curled her fingers around them, holding on for dear life. Then Cal showed him how to fold the leg rests over and place her feet inside. Cal moved Leo behind the chair and placed his hands on the push-handles.

"Give it a try. It might be a bit bumpy, but you'll get the hang of it quickly." Pushing the chair, Leo rolled it forward three feet, hit a gap between cobblestones, and juddered. Mira's hands flew to the wheel rims, steadying herself instinctively. Leo froze.

"Keep going," Cal encouraged.

"It'll unfortunately be a bit bumpy… there's not much I can do about that, but with enough momentum you should keep moving. Maintaining some downward pressure on the handles will help keep the nose up too." Leo pushed again. Slowly, and with increasing confidence, the chair found its rhythm, the larger rear wheels smoothing out the irregularities as they built speed. Mira eventually relaxed her fingers.

She looked down at the ground passing beneath her, then up at the snow-dusted rooftops, then straight ahead at the street opening before her. She laughed. It was a small sound, startled out of her. But it broke something open. Leo's serious expression crumbled. He blinked hard, twice, his jaw working, and pushed the chair in a slow circle while Mira reached out and caught snowflakes on her open palm, laughing again, louder. Corinne wiped her eyes with her sleeve and Cal couldn't be happier it had worked.

Getting the chair through the front door of the Jain household required a combination of careful alignment and a steady hand. The frame may have slightly scraped the doorjamb on both sides, but it cleared in the end. Once everyone was inside Cal straightened and faced the group.

"I owe all of you an apology. Mira, most of all. What happened in that clearing happened because of choices I made. You paid the price for that, and I'm sorry. There aren't words big enough for it, so I won't try to find them." Mira opened her mouth, but he kept going.

"Leo. Corinne. I should have told you what Jakob and I were doing. I told myself I was working on something that mattered a great deal, and while I was and it did… I never should have put the ones I care about at risk to do it. That was selfish, and I'm sorry for it. I won't let it happen again." He took a deep breath before he finished up.

"I understand why you all feel the way you do. I'd feel the same. I can't undo what happened, but I can tell you what I intend to do about it." He met the gaze of each of them.

"I'm going to find a healer powerful enough to repair Mira's spine. When the weather clears in spring, I'm leaving Deadfall to make that happen." Cal had considered trying another shortcut, like using the [Portal] Spell to head to Lady Helyna's. While he had no idea where in the world it was, the facility might have been in a different, much larger population center; with access to the kinds of healers he needed. At the very least, the people running the place should be able to get him in touch with one.

But he wasn't willing to take that risk. Not yet. He was starting to understand that being known as someone with access to that Spell and no organization backing him could put him in a lot of danger. Mira spoke up first.

"You saved my life, Cal, no matter what anyone says. You didn't hold the spear that ran me through, and you did make sure to kill the ones that would have ended my life. You and Corinne, while Leo shielded me. I'm thankful for that. There was never anything to forgive." Leo's hands rested on the push-handles of the chair. He stared at them for a long moment, his thumbs rubbing the metal. When he looked up, his eyes were red, and his voice was rough.

"You could've... you could've just come and told us that." He took a shaky breath.

"Instead of disappearing like some kind of... guilty coward."

"I know. I thought you needed time but… maybe I was just afraid."

"It was stupid."

"I know that too, buddy." Leo worked his jaw. He looked down at Mira, who gazed up at him bright-eyed and upright in her new chair, her fingers finding his hand. Something in him finally released. He looked up.

"Don't do it again."

"You have my word, Leo." Leo extended his hand and Cal took it, shaking it once. Before the young baker could escape, Cal pulled him into a bear hug and squeezed, to the laughter of Corinne and Mira. When Leo finally managed to escape, a grinning Cal brought up what he had been dying to discuss.

"Before everything went sideways that day I made you a promise. That I'd invest in you and your passion. Do you remember?" Leo's brow furrowed. He glanced at Mira, then back.

"Before Selara and Aurelian left Deadfall… they gifted me a great many things. Things that I scarcely believed and hardly deserved… but one of them was the signed deed to The Golden Mortar. Signed to me." Corinne's jaw dropped." What?"

"Yeeeeup. All mine."

"You must have really impressed him."

"Either that… or he's just so rich he didn't care." Corinne didn't have a response to that. Yes, filthy, disgustingly rich… thank you Azh'vail's, wherever you are! May we meet again! Cal turned back to Leo, and his voice got more serious.

"It's a good building. Solid construction, a stone foundation, and lots of ventilation. The front windows will need replaced so customers can actually see your creations on a display shelf, unless you want to keep the dark and mysterious thing going. Totally up to you, but it wouldn't be my suggestion. The lab has plenty of space for ovens, probably even three or four, and there's tons of storage room that could be expanded into for more kitchen space.

I'd like to convert it into a bakery, Leo, but only if you are still interested in the partnership." Leo didn't move. His lips parted slightly, but Corinne was already on her feet, her mind visibly running off excitedly in front of her.

"Leo, this is perfect! I can help you with the books, and the staffing, and the supply orders, and... it'll be just like running the inn's business, except with more flour and less drunk adventurers!" Mira giggled as she squeezed the hand resting on her shoulder.

"And you'll need an official taste-tester," she said up at Leo with a wink.

"Yeah," Leo said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat.

"Yeah, Cal. I'm still interested."

"Good!" Cal clapped his hands together.

"Then we celebrate! Second breakfast at the Hearthsong, on me!" They made a strange procession through the morning streets of Deadfall. Leo pushed Mira's chair carefully, picking his way around big gaps and drainage ruts as they made their way. Corinne walked beside them, pointing out every doorway and shopfront as if Mira had been away for years and the street itself needed reintroducing. Cal pulled the empty handcart behind them, its iron wheels announcing their passage to every living soul within three blocks.

Villagers stared. Some openly, some from doorways and windows, pretending they weren't watching. A rolling chair bearing a girl through the streets of Deadfall was a sight without precedent. They'd made it halfway to the inn when a man stepped into their path. Middle-aged and thick through the shoulders, with calloused hands. He held his cap and addressed Leo with a directness that bordered on desperation.

"Pardon me, sir, but that chair. My brother… My brother, he took a fall, see? Healers couldn't 'im. H-he hasn't left his bed since…" The man swallowed.

"Could you tell me where to get one a them?" Leo glanced back at Cal, who was studying the man.

"Talk to Yorrin at his forge," Cal piped up.

"Tell him Cal Valorn sent you, and that you'd like to buy one of his wheelchairs. Yorrin'll know what to do. If cost is an issue tell him that, too. We'll get it sorted." The man blinked, and his cap crumpled in his grip.

"I... t-thank you, sir. Thank you." He was gone before Cal could tell him not to call him sir. They continued on, reaching the Hearthsong as the breakfast crowd was thinning. Cal dumped the cart in the stables and rejoined the group at the front entrance, watching Leo maneuver the chair through the inn's wide doors. The enchanted hinges swung open smoothly, and the heat of the common room rushed out to greet them. Cassia stood just inside the entrance talking with a Mycari man.

He was older, lean and sharp-featured, with silver hair cropped close to his skull. He held a cup of tea in his hands, and something about the way he stood made him seem like the most comfortable person in the room. Beside Cal, Corinne had stopped walking.

"Uncle?"