“This stuff is legendary, huh?” Val muttered. “Let’s see if it works.”
She extended a hand toward her dagger with the gemstone between her and the blade. Her amulet scorched her skin, and magic tingled in her fingers—and she felt nothing. She couldn’t detect the movement of the iron particles in the Damascus steel.
Val gritted her teeth and tried to summon the dagger, but it lay motionless on the workbench, oblivious to her presence.
“Cool,” she murmured. “That works.”
She turned to the pendant lying on the workbench. It couldn’t be too big, or it would weigh the tiny princess down, so Val had made it the size of a dollar coin. Its sturdy iron chain had a baby-proof clasp and would be too tight to pull over her head, but she’d added a safety catch that would snap if the little nugget accidentally choked herself.
She’d drilled the settings for the gemstones, and Val hummed as she set the obsidian. The dragon eggshell stone went in the middle. One by one, Val set the smaller stones around the outside, leaving the alternate holes open for other crystals. She used a tiny blunted burnisher to squeeze the stones flush inside their settings to baby-proof the amulet.
“Toddlers, man,” Val muttered.
She reached for another velvet pouch filled with crystals and shook them onto her palm with great gentleness. These were among the most fragile she’d worked with. Salt was hardly a precious stone, but the Gem Dwarf jewelry company she used had done an excellent job of polishing these pink Himalayan salt crystals into acceptable shapes and hardness.
“Salt for dark magic,” she reminded herself. The queen wanted this amulet to protect others from Lillirelda, but Val figured that adding a mild shield against evil magic couldn't hurt. Besides, the pink crystals were pretty.
Placing the salt crystals in their settings was delicate work. Val wiped the sweat from her brow when the last one was in place. When she picked the amulet up by its chain and raised it, it swung gently, allowing the forge’s yellow glow to sparkle on the many facets and slide across the polished iron. Carvings of the moon's phases surrounded the central obsidian jewel, and black and pink stones alternated around the outside.
“Pretty for a princess,” Val murmured, “but does it work?”
There was a soft thud from the dog bed at her feet. She looked down at the dog, curled contentedly in his basket under the workbench.
“Not gonna lie. It’s nice having company in the forge,” she told him. “Usually, I talk to myself. It’s almost worth lugging your heavy ass down the stairs.” He’d stood in the door, whining, until she gave in and carried him down to the smithy.
The dog wagged his tail harder.
“Okay, dude. Let’s see if it works.” Val pushed her chair back and rose, then cupped the amulet in both hands, bowed her head, and held it up.
The amulet thrummed in response to her rising magic. Its pulse fluttered like a heartbeat, then sped up. Heat surged on her skin and seeped into her veins.
Keeping the amulet’s back facing her, Val reached for the iron within. Obsidian caused blind spots in the amulet. She frowned, concentrating as she sought to imbue the iron with the ward Lillirelda needed.
Magic crackled in her veins like electricity, yet it felt trapped at her fingertips.
“Shit, dude,” Val muttered, eyes still closed. “This is harder than I thought.”
The dog whined.
Val gritted her teeth and tried harder. Her magic surged. The iron responded, and a ward blossomed around the pendant.
Val gasped and opened her eyes. The amulet looked no different, but in her magical senses, it blazed with power.
The dog barked.
“You can sense that, can’t you?” Val grinned. “C’mon. Time to test it!”
She bounded across the smithy to a straw dummy she’d set up near the forge. Val hung the amulet around its neck, crossed to the nearest tool rack, and selected a flamethrower and a welding helmet.
“Close your eyes, dude,” she told the dog.
He stared at her in merry incomprehension.
“Well, I hope you’re not scared of fire,” Val told him.
She snapped the welding helmet over her eyes and lit the flamethrower. The roar echoed through the smithy. The dog sat still, watching in apparent interest.
Val strode to the dummy and, without hesitation, set it on fire.
Flames caught the straw and sprang toward the ceiling in a rush of light and heat, but only for an instant. A blue flash rippled through the amulet as temperature activated the ward. With a dull sound like iron striking a wooden shield, an invisible bubble formed around the dummy, trapping the flames within. They roiled and churned in a four-foot sphere around the burning straw.
“Yeah!” Val whooped.
She set the flamethrower aside, pulled off her helmet, and approached the dummy cautiously. She felt no heat when she extended a bare hand toward the bubble.
“Lilli can keep her babysitters.” Val grinned. “Now, to make sure the ward works both ways.”
The dog’s eyes followed her across the smithy as she retrieved a seven-foot battleax from the weapons rack. Its weight made her grunt, but she swung it above her head, then charged the burning dummy with a warrior’s roar and struck.
The battleax hit the ward with a hollow clang and bounced so hard that Val almost lost control. Her hands tightened on the shaft and she stumbled back, clinging to it with all her strength.
“Whoa!” Val lowered the battleax and inspected the edge, which had curled and notched on impact. “Okay. I think it works.”
The dog wagged his tail and barked.
“Thanks, dude.” Val watched as the fire burned out, leaving the unharmed amulet hanging on a frame of charred wood. “I think she’ll like it, too.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
