City in the Sky Read Online Free PDF

above five feet tall. Slanted eyes, arched cheekbones, and the toast they'd just spoken proclaimed them all to be Aeradi.
    All four were armed, and as Erik watched, one of them pulled his sheathed sword up and tossed it onto the table in disgust. “It had clearly been building for some time,” Erik heard him say, apparently continuing an earlier conversation. “Sky steel doesn't just suddenly shear from stress.”
    “You've carried that thing for twenty years,” one of the others commented. “Surely you've got enough worth out of it to replace it?”
    The first speaker shrugged. “Maybe, but I won't. You all know why.”
    The others nodded. “You aren't getting sky steel fixed in Vidran , that's for sure,” another said flatly. “Hell, I wouldn't lay money on getting it fixed anywhere other than Garria or back home.”
    “We aren't hitting Garria on this run,” the man with the broken sword replied. “I asked the Captain. Just here, Hellit, Seije, and then back here to finish up before heading home.”
    “Just humans?” one of them said with disgust. “They farm well and make good beer, but that's about all you can say for them. They sure as hell can't reforge a sky steel blade.”
    Figuring that eavesdropping wasn't going to do him any more good, Erik quietly slid his stool out from the bar and crossed over to the Aeradi's table. “Excuse me gentlemen,” he said quietly, “but I'm afraid I couldn't help but overhear you talking. I believe you said you had a broken sky steel blade?”
    Three of the four Aeradi looked shocked that a human had dared speak to them. The one with the broken sword however, simply looked at Erik. “Yes,” he replied. “Do you know of a man in Vidran who can fix it?”
    “Yes,” Erik told him. “Me.”
    “You can?” one of the others scoffed. “No human can crystal-forge.”
    “And many Aeradi are blind,” the first speaker replied gently. He stood and offered Erik his hand. “My name is Harmon hept Ikeras, and unlike my companions, I know Sky Blood when I see it.”
    That shut the other three up. Erik took the man's hand. “My name is Erik,” he introduced himself. “I'm the journeyman at Master Byron's smithy – anyone in here could direct you there. You'll find my rates reasonable.”
    “The sword has great sentimental value to me,” Ikeras said. “I would rather wait and have it repaired perfectly than repaired imperfectly now. I mean no offence, of course,” he added belatedly.
    Erik grinned thinly. Reaching inside his cloak, he drew the smallsword he'd forged for Rade and laid it on the table. Even in the dim light in the tavern, the white sheen of sky steel was visible on the sword's thin blade.
    Ikeras picked up the weapon and ran his finger gently down the blade. He bent it slightly, and watched it flick back into position. “This is well-forged,” he admitted. He looked up at Erik carefully. “Not what I would expect a smith to be carrying, though.”
    “It is a... sample,” Erik answered, evading the unspoken question.
    The doubter took the blade and looked at it. “This is excellent work,” he said quietly. “This lad may do as good a job as some of the smiths back home.”
    “I agree,” Ikeras said quietly, and turned to Erik. “Would you join us for a drink, young Erik?”
    “Thank you for the offer,” Erik said softly, “but it is late, and I have work to do in the morning.”
    “Very well. I will visit your smithy in the morning then,” Ikeras said, inclining his head.
     
     
     
    Erik had barely opened the store, the next morning, when Ikeras arrived. The sun had only just risen over the horizon and the streets outside the building were completely empty, but the Aeraid seemed unbothered by the early hour, entering the smithy with a spring in his step.
    “Good morning, milord Ikeras,” Erik said calmly as the man entered.
    “I am not a lord,” Ikeras replied with a smile, “merely a warrior of the Realm of the Sky.” He laid