It only took a few moments after my arrival at the edge of the scorching chasm for Jaelin to zero in on my location and appear next to me.
She appeared interested as she glanced over the edge. “So what’s the plan here?” she asked me.
I shrugged. “Let me show you what I did last time,” I said. I grabbed a broadsword from the top of the pile, gripped it tightly with both hands, took a deep breath, and pitched myself forward.
I had to hand it to Jaelin—her feathers were not easily ruffled. She didn’t cry out in surprise. She simply watched with an expression of absorbed focus as I fell over the edge. Was that because she trusted that I knew what I was doing or because she didn’t actually care whether or not I survived?
Partway through my descent, I teleported to just above the surface and dipped the sword into the lava before jumping back to the top of the cliff. I showed her the newly-burnt blade, with cooling lava still running down toward the haft. “Did you see what I did?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “But why don’t you just do this?” As she spoke, she removed a small knife from the pile and tossed it over the edge.
“Because I need it back,” I replied dryly.
“So use your telekinesis,” she returned matter-of-factly. A few moments later, the knife floated back up from the depths of the burning abyss, its blade neatly coated in lava.
I stared at it. Then I stared at her. “It seems so obvious now,” I mumbled sheepishly.