“How can I help?” the troll asked.

“I was hoping you’d have information about the case I emailed you about last night,” Val admitted. “The gangsters I fought?”

“The one that Major Ardelean recorded?” Qenzi asked. “Started with a brick through someone’s car window.”

Val nodded. “That’s the one.”

Qenzi sighed. “We’re not allowed to prosecute humans under Eternity Law. We can’t get involved with this case except to keep Blair and Yuka safe, which you’re already doing. It’s the NYPD’s jurisdiction.”

“They’re not very helpful,” Val grumbled. “I’ve called them, and they just tell me that they can’t disclose anything about an active investigation. If I get through to a human being.”

“Taking hundreds of calls is hard if all of your employees have only two arms,” Qenzi sympathized. “Sorry, Val. If you feel you need backup...”

“No, it’s cool, thanks.” Val smiled. “I know I can call on the OPMA if I need help. I was just hoping to get this ordeal over with for these dwarves sooner rather than later.”

“I hear you.” Qenzi sighed. “I’ll tell you if there are any developments, but so far, we’re just monitoring the case.”

“Thanks, Qenz. Coming to the Fist for drinks sometime?” Val asked.

Qenzi chuckled. “It’s out of my way, but if you guys still have that great pilsner Anvil Brewery makes, I’ll swing by this weekend.”

“That’d be great,” Val told her.

She hung up and warily eyed the NYPD’s number, then lowered her phone. She’d spent enough time listening to hold music and automated voices for one day.

“What we really need, Gennie, is a contact in human law enforcement,” she murmured.

Genevieve honked sheepishly.

“Yeah, I know the cops chase you in Bay Ridge.” Val rolled her eyes. “As if they’ll ever catch us. I should have asked Officer Harris for his number.”

Genevieve waved her windshield wipers.

Val scoffed. “Not like that, silly.”

Her phone buzzed again. This time, it was a FaceTime call. Val took it and looked directly up her father’s nostrils. “Dad! Gross! Move the phone!”

The screen blurred, then offered Val a brief view of his ear hole before it went dark. “Hello?” Frode demanded.

“Dad, it’s on video. Hold it in front of your face so I can see you,” Val moaned.

“Oh!” Frode held the phone up and grinned. “There’s my little spark!” His smile faded. “You look exhausted.”

“I am exhausted,” Val admitted. “I didn’t get any sleep last night.”

“I’m sorry, darling.” Frode grinned. “You’ll sleep soundly tonight, though. The iron grilles are done. I’ve sent them via brownie express, so they’ll be waiting for you at Blair and Yuka’s house when you get there.”

Val gasped. “Seriously?”

“Of course. Oh, and I added copper threads, so you and Blair can use your magic when you install them,” Frode added. “It won’t take you more than fifteen minutes for the lot.”

“Dad, you’re a legend. Thank you so much.” Val’s tired shoulders loosened. “I appreciate it.”

“Anything for you, little spark,” Frode reassured her. “You look peaky. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I haven’t been getting as much sleep as I’d like,” Val confessed. “It’s hectic.”

“That’s because you’re trying to do everything on your own,” Frode chided. “Didn’t I tell you that you can’t burn the candle at both ends?”

“I don’t have a choice, Dad,” Val grumbled.

“Of course you do. You need help, that’s all,” Frode told her. “You know what you should do?”

Val leaned her head against her seat, longing to close her eyes. She scanned the street instead. “I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“You should assemble a team,” Frode declared.

Val snorted. “What, like the Avengers?”

“The who?” Frode asked.

Val laughed. “I’ll explain later.”

A good night’s sleep left Val feeling like a new person.

She strode into the smithy, and the tension left her shoulders when she smelled the scent of the forge and saw the gleam of its magically maintained light on her tools. The empty drawing board beckoned, reminding her that she was up to date on orders. Blair and Yuka were working from home that day on marketing and accounting, so the day was all hers.

Spending the day in front of the TV was tempting, but the smithy called to her.

Val put the phone on do not disturb, set it on the workbench, and prepared to make some small but useful items. She didn’t work to music. The sound of a hammer on iron and the roar of the forge were the only music she needed. Her heart was calm, and her hands were steady as she worked on small iron pieces, squinting through a loupe as she used her smallest tools.

In a few hours, her handiwork was spread across royal-blue jewelers’ velvet in front of her. She touched each piece gently, familiar with every line, curve, and gleaming stone. The two amulets, which were set with emeralds, gave the wearer faster reaction times and a clearer mind.

She’d also made matching magnetic armbands that enhanced earth magic using the same alloy she’d made a few days ago.

The final item was a pair of earrings: large emeralds hanging from delicate steel chains. She’d inscribed tiny runes on the chains. Val lifted the earrings in her cupped hands and bowed her head, calling on her iron power.

The amulet responded, and a surge of magic crackled through her as scarlet fog filled her vision. Val felt every atom of iron and hint of magic trapped within the particles, strengthening it.

The ward blossomed around the earrings, and they grew heavier in her hands. When she unfurled her fingers, the chains glowed a faint blue.

She laid the earrings on the workbench about four inches apart, drew her dagger, and stabbed down hard. The dagger rebounded with a clang, almost wrenching itself from her hands.

“Okay.” Val laughed breathlessly. “That works.”

She held up her dagger and winced at the tiny notch near the tip. I really need to come up with a different way to test wards. After scooping the jewelry into a velvet bag for the dwarves, Val took the dagger to the whetstone and honed the edge.