Work. Josh used his hands for his work. She would do the same. She brushed her fingers over Wolly’s shoulder, so lightly the red fur didn’t ruffle as she let her thoughts drift.
On his belt buckles, Josh etched patterns and laid in his polished stones so that the pieces became more than metal and rock. He put a little of himself into each one, and what he left behind was real and true.
The dog was already real and true. If she just reminded him...
Wolly waggled his stub tail and lowered his head to the cushion with a sigh.
Josh scowled. “What did you do?”
“Nothing. I don’t know. I...” She lifted her chin. “It’s magic.”
Josh’s jaw flexed and he stood as if to get away from her.
She gave Wolly a tentative pat on the shoulder and got another tail wag and no whine in return. She smiled before rising to face Josh. “The log rack there by the fireplace is iron. You have the iron skillet in the kitchen and two iron spoons that could be smelted into—”
He took a step toward her. “Why iron?”
“Because that is the only thing that stops them.” She wrapped her arms around herself, tucking her icy hands close to her body. “Be careful though. Many things you might think are iron are alloys and won’t have the same effect.”
“And you know this how?” He took another step closer, looming now.
She tightened her grip on herself, staring at his chest where the imp had slashed through his coat. He could have been killed. “I...”
Gently, he put his hands on her shoulders. Despite what he’d been through, his hands were warm as he trailed down her arms, unwinding her grip around her belly, past the bandages at her wrists.
He flattened her hands out between them.
Her right palm was blistered from when she had grabbed the horseshoe and wrenched it off the wall.
He glanced up from the wound and said softly, “You know this because you’re one of them.”