Forged in Fire by J.A. Pitts Page B

see anything but old wood and dust. But if I turned my head to the side and let the sunlight hang in the corner of my eye, I could see something sparkling, something that looked like runes.
    I suddenly didn’t want to mention this to Charlie Hague. He of the secret tattoo and cavalier talk of horse necropsies. “I got nothing,” I said.
    He looked at me skeptically, then shrugged. “Thought you may have caught something there at the last. Something I missed, maybe?”
    “No.” I shook my head. “Sunlight got in my eyes, that’s all. We should see to the horses, don’t you think?”
    He pulled the camera from around his neck, wrapping the strap around the body and stuffing the whole thing into his satchel. “Let me grab my medical kit,” he said, walking out of the stall. “I’ll meet you outside.”
    “Cool.” I walked down through the barn, but a tickling caused me to stop and turn. He stood in front of where I thought I’d seen the runes, stood staring at the wall for a good long minute, before jotting something into a notebook and turning back to get his kit.
    I hustled out of the barn and walked out among the horses. They were much calmer, but I’d forgotten to get them their hay. I went back inside to grab a bale when I caught a flash from where Charlie stood. He had his back to me, but it had that distinct flair of magic I’d seen from Qindra. Was Charlie Hague a witch?
    “Grabbing some hay,” I called out.
    He startled, quickly grabbed his kit, and turned back. “On my way,” he said. A neutral smile painted his face as he walked down the aisle toward me.
    Who are you, Charlie Hague? I thought. Whose side are you on?
    We examined each horse. Two had to have small abrasions cleaned where they’d obviously knocked against the stall in their panic and one I had to walk around for a bit, keeping her head low with the lead rope and speaking calmly to her. I like to pet them on the neck when they are agitated. I feel like it helps calm them, letting them know you are there for them, that you will keep things safe.
    “You have a subtle touch,” Charlie said from a stack of hay bales. He’d left the last one for me to calm down while he worked on his report. By the time I had the little mare breathing evenly and willing to eat some oats from my hand, he’d uploaded all the pictures from his camera and was sending e-mails off to his office.
    “If you give me your e-mail address, I’ll make sure you get a copy of everything,” he offered.
    I gave him my account and watched him send me a zipped file.
    “Should be enough for the insurance company, as well,” he said, closing the lid on his laptop. “I’ll just go inside and have Mrs. Campbell sign a couple of release forms, then I’ll send a truck out to remove the remains.”
    “Thank you,” I said. “I’ll stay out here until things are cleared up.”
    “Good idea,” he said, smiling. “And here’s my card. Call me if something comes up.”
    He flipped a card out of his pocket with the flair of a three-card monte dealer and held it out to me. I took it from him, and, as our fingers brushed, I got a flash of young Mr. Hague’s true self. Just like when I first met the dwarf, Rolph Brokkrson, only this time, instead of the forge, it was books and dust, secrets and sorrow. There’s a bit of the cloister in him, I decided. Something quite different from a hotshot vet tech on the rise.
    He gave me a puzzled look and bowed toward me, ever so slightly. I guess it was a thing. Lately everyone was bowing to show respect.
    I waved as he walked down the drive to his van and turned to the house. I texted Stuart, letting him know they were clear to come see what there was to see.
    Now I just had to let Katie know what was going on.

Fourteen
     
    K atie hadn’t been happy about the situation, as you can imagine, but understood my decision to call Jimmy and the others. She didn’t want anyone else to get hurt. She just said she’d be home when I