Page 20 of The Monster at the End of This Molt

ChapterEight

Weld

To light the blowtorch,I flicked the steel striker across the flint. Next, I tweaked the gas until I had a healthy blue flame. I heated the dented metal until it glowed an orangey-red. While it was hot, I tapped it with hammer and chisel to reshape the crease. Once the metal cooled to a dull red, I quenched it with cold water, holding the wet sponge to the metal until the burn mark charred black.

I sighed. This would take forever. I could feel the original shape of the wheel in my bones, the way sculptors were said to feel the shape of the statue inside the block of marble. I'd returned the metal to its basic wheel shape, but it was nowhere near perfect. If I could mold it a little here, twist it a little there …

The metal shifted before my eyes, making my head swim. I blinked, stared, and blinked again.

The metal had moved to fit the blueprint in my head. It seemed disingenuous, like cheating. I was supposed to do this by hand. I didn't have enough magic to work metal with my thoughts.

I cranked the gas valves on the torch and the fuel cylinder to off and rolled the mechanism away. The last thing I wanted to do was blow myself up while I was this close to a magical breakthrough.

Nah. It wasn't magic. It couldn't be. It was getting closer to lunch, and I was delirious with hunger, even though I'd eaten breakfast and my mid-morning snack.

Still, I approached the wheel with reverence for the new sensations coursing through me. If this was what magic users felt, I was grateful to join their ranks. I felt almost giddy as I stepped up to the wheel, running my fingers over the rough, shrink-scarred surface. The crease was the depth of my fingernail. I ran it along the rough spots, sharing my intention with the metal.

My claws were sharp, but they wouldn't shave metal, though I left no filings or dust in my wake. Again, I had the sensation the metal reshaped itself to fit my idea of it, not only how it was when I'd first brought the tractor from Earth, but how it had looked when it rolled off the assembly line at the farm implement factory.

I chuckled as I smoothed my hand over every bit of damaged steel, returning it to its original gleaming yellow without a single chip in the paint. It looked too nice to go back on the old tractor, but I wasn't done yet. I picked up the rubber tire and stood it upright next to the wheel. With a little push, the two aligned and popped together. I spun the wheel, skating my hands over the sidewalls. The tire inflated between them, and the bead I'd been so worried would never seal snapped into place.

I kept rolling the tire, repairing the worn tread until little rubber nubbins pricked my fingertips. I'd restored it to sticker-worthy shape, without the sticker.

And still, I felt more magic coursing through my veins. With a thought, I lifted the tractor from its stands and hoisted the tire into place. Without the aid of my trusty air wrench, the lug nuts tightened themselves. I felt like Cinderella watching her fairy godmother work, except …

I laughed out loud at that. "I am my own damn fairy godmother!" With hands raised like a music conductor, I danced around the tractor. The engine needed tuned. The old hydraulic system for the front bucket needed a good cleaning, and the hitch, which had rusted through, needed to be restored. I bipped, bopped, and booped, and the decrepit old tractor roared to life with a purr.

"I knew you could do it."

The tractor engine sputtered to a stop, and I took a step back. Robin's voice nearly startled me out of my skin. I'd been so focused on my work, I hadn't noticed the shift in our bond. When he neared, something inside my chest swelled. At first, it had been uncomfortable, but now, I could feel his admiration through it.

I glanced at him, and then back at the tractor. "How long have you been here?"

"You were dancing when I walked around the barn." He grinned. "When we get back to The Pavilion, you owe me a slow dance in the old gym."

Satisfied that the tractor was as good as new, my magic retreated in a rush. I sank to my knees with a sigh and grinned up at Robin. "This wasn't you, then?"

He frowned. "I don't know the first thing about old Earth tractors."

"I mean the magic." I shrugged. "I've never held this much magic."

He sank to his knees beside me, not caring that he dotted his gray sweatpants with purple grass stains. "We're mates. The longer we're together, the stronger our combined magic will be. Remember how Papa unlocked their cabin's tunnel entrance? Before that, Dad didn't even know the tunnel was there."

He took my hands in his. "The magic is yours. It could have been yours for the last 26 years, but you ran away."

"I would do it again, if it meant you had a normal childhood."

He frowned. "No part of my childhood was normal. We were the first alpha and omega hatchlings to grow up on Ignitas in over a century. I have a fucking sister. Do you know how annoying that is?" His grimace transformed into a deprecating smirk. "Knowing my fated mate almost since birth was the least of my worries."

He said that, but I knew the truth. I'd grown up on Earth, and so did his parents. I didn't want to be that guy, the disgusting groomer who drew his fated mate into underage sex.

"What are you thinking right now?" Robin asked.

"Earth rules and customs."

He nodded. "I shouldn't have said it that way. I know you didn't run away, and I understand your reasons. I majored in psychology in undergrad. My textbooks covered case studies of some horrible people, and not once did they remind me of you."

When he said he'd studied psychology, I tried not to roll my eyes. I'd hated my counselors and therapists back on Earth. I'd known I was different, but they insisted all humans experienced similar emotions. Unless everyone around me was a fucking kobold changeling, they did not feel the same way I did.

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