The dog flopped into his bed under the workbench with a happy sigh, and Val wondered if he’d eaten the pasta. It probably wouldn’t kill him.
She returned her attention to the metal on the table. The fine sheets she’d beaten into a set of interlocking fins looked like copper on the outside, but they crackled with magic each time she touched them.
“The copper’s just a protective layer to keep the faerie dust from decomposing in the air,” Val explained to the dog. “The real magic is inside.”
She’d invented the blend of iron and faerie dust after fighting alongside Sinatria.
“It needs a cool name, don’t you think?” Val fitted the metal sheets together one by one, using pins, her hammer, and magic. “Faerie dust and iron. Iron dust? Faerie iron? No, not right.”
She hammered the last plate into place and held up the half-finished shield. Its lack of weight was incredible, considering its size. The round shield covered most of her torso.
“Iron’s chemical symbol is Fe,” she murmured. “There’s got to be a play on words in there.”
She closed her eyes, reaching for her magic power, and the amulet hummed against her skin. Its warmth spread into her blood like gasoline catching fire. Val couldn’t tell if it was the amulet or her heart beating so quickly, but she leaned into the rapid pulses.
Bigger on the inside. It was a simple, commonplace charm, but Val had never seen it used this way.
She wrapped her hands around the boss at the shield’s center that contained the central pivot to which she’d attached all the plates and concentrated. Both the iron and the faerie dust reacted to her magic’s presence.
Be smaller, she silently urged the iron. Collapse.
The iron particles trembled at her touch. Their vibrations became faster and faster, as if the metal had melted, but it felt solid in her hands.
Collapse! Val urged again.
A metallic clunk echoed through the smithy, and Val grinned. She knew it had worked before she opened her eyes.
The amulet cooled as she admired its handiwork. To all appearances, the shield had vanished. Val now held only the domed boss, and when she turned it over, the back was flat. The metal gleamed in the forge’s light with an ethereal holographic sparkle thanks to the faerie dust and iron alloy.
“Faerrous,” she suddenly announced.
The dog raised his head.
“That’s what I’m calling the faerie dust and iron mix,” Val told him. “Faerrous steel.”
The dog barked.
“I know. It’s brilliant.” Val grinned. “Wait ‘til you see this.”
She fished a leather strap from the workbench’s drawer and buckled it to the gaps she’d added on the boss’s back. The disc was slightly broader than her wrist when she tied the strap around her left arm.
“Little heavy, but nothing I won’t get used to,” Val muttered.
She rose and strode to an empty area in the middle of the smithy. The dog watched with interest, not moving from his basket, as Val flexed her wrist and adjusted the leather strap.
“Ready for this, boy?” she called, grinning.
Val closed her eyes and felt for the iron neatly coiled inside the armband. The compressed particles hummed in anticipation as her powers brushed them.
This is going to work, she realized. This is actually going to work!
Val raised her arm, gathered her powers, and flicked her forearm over her torso like she was guarding it in a fight. Metal clanked in response to both movement and magic. The faerrous steel plates unfolded from the boss, and the shield formed around the armband. It covered her torso, a mobile barricade against danger.
“Yeah!” Val whooped.
The dog barked.
“It works, dude!” Val called. “Now let’s see how tough faerrous steel really is.”
She grabbed the dented battleax from the weapons rack and hefted it. The dog put a paw over his nose as Val turned to the cast-iron forge and raised the battle axe.
“Stay,” she told him. The dog squeezed deeper into his basket.
“Good boy.” Val drew back her arm and threw the battle axe. It thudded through the air like a helicopter blade, spinning end over end, and the blunted blade noisily collided with the forge. When it ricocheted toward Val, she raised the shield over her head.
The ordinary steel clanged when it hit the faerrous alloy. The impact rippled through Val’s arm, but the battleax rebounded hard. She lowered the shield as the axe clattered to the floor.
“Yeah!” Val punched the air. She flicked her arm up, activating the iron with her magic, and the shield folded into the inconspicuous armband with a hiss. Testing the mechanism, she flicked the shield open again, and it moved effortlessly.
“This is so cool,” Val murmured, running her fingers over the shield’s edge. “Faerrous steel is bulletproof and almost magic-proof. Not many attacks will cut through this thing.”
The dog yipped.
“It’s nice having company down here,” Val admitted.
She was prowling the weapons rack, trying to decide what to use for her next test, when her phone rang on the workbench. Val’s blood turned to ice. She flicked her arm, shrinking the shield, and sprinted across the smithy to grab the phone.
It wasn’t Blair or Yuka, but Val felt no relief. Why would Liam call this late?
