Bound to The Enemy of My Mate
“You will work as one. Borin explains the theory. Holden adapts the craft. Every step is approved by both, or it is not taken.”
The first sessions were a war of scowls and grunts. But then, examining the shards of the failed trigger, Borin pointed a calloused finger. “See? A cold-shut fracture. The metal was poured too cool.”
Holden, his pride still wounded, snorted. “Aye. The furnace couldn’t hold the heat you demanded. We need a forced-air bellows on the main forge. A design from the northern mines.” It was a statement of fact, not a concession.