The Iron Witch by Karen Mahoney

until I’m sure of something.”
    Simon? Simon Gaunt? He was Quentin Frost’s partner—they’d been a couple for many years, at least for as long as Donna had known them—and he was also the official secretary of the Order, Quentin’s right-hand man. Simon Gaunt gave her the creeps, if she was honest about it, and it made Donna go cold to think there were secrets between him and Maker.
    She wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but it seemed like Maker was willing to let the Navin situation go, so long as she didn’t tell about the wood elf in the workshop. At least, for now. It was a deal she could live with.
    Except that something definitely wasn’t right. Where had Maker come from? She’d been all over the workshop and the corridor out back, and there’d been no sign of him. Had he seen them come in? Also, it really was strange that Maker wasn’t angrier about Navin, since secrets were a fact of life for the Order. Then again, seeing how Maker was being oh-so-reasonable about Nav’s presence, it could be an unexpected gift. Maybe she shouldn’t be in such a hurry to risk messing with that.
    And of course, if she ignored Maker’s request and told Aunt Paige what had happened, what if she ended up getting everything wrong? Donna didn’t want to look like she’d been sneaking around, or worse, let on that she suspected something horrible had been happening in Maker’s workshop. Especially when he’d never given her reason to think badly of him before. Just the thought of telling Aunt Paige that Navin had encountered an elf made her feel sick. There could be no going back from that—not for her, and certainly not for Navin.
    She watched as a bead of sweat slipped slowly down the side of Maker’s face. He must be exhausted after handling the dark elf all by himself, despite the magic Donna knew he could craft. Alchemy— real magic—was all about transformation. It was a very different sort of power than the ridiculous things that regular people saw in movies. You didn’t just wave a wand and say a few words; there was a lot of work involved. Painstaking preparation and ritual. Maker always said “magic is technology,” and Donna hadn’t fully understood this until the first time she saw his workshop.
    Pulling herself upright, she smiled tightly at the old alchemist. “We’ll get out of your way, then. Don’t worry, I won’t breathe a word—and neither will Navin.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Will you?”
    Navin had been watching this exchange while slouching against the wall with his arms crossed. He was doing his best impression of Harmless and Totally Trustworthy. Donna almost smiled despite the tension in the air. He was a terrible actor.
    “Huh?” he replied.
    “Nav, I said you’ll keep your mouth shut about all of this. Right?”
    “Right,” he agreed, nodding so hard she thought he’d lost control of his neck muscles. “I won’t say a word. Never. I’ll take it to my grave and—”
    “Nav?” Donna cut in.
    “What?”
    “Shut up.”
    “Shutting up.” He made a zipping motion across his lips, mimed twisting a lock shut, and threw the imaginary key over his shoulder.
    Rolling her eyes, Donna wished she could avoid telling him all the things she’d been forced to keep from him for so long. The truth was a slippery slope, and once it was really out there , it would be impossible to stop it from taking on a life of its own. While she didn’t generally believe in the power of prayer—she’d given up on all that when her father died and her mother got sick—right now she would try just about anything. Swallowing past the sudden dryness in her throat, Donna prayed that revealing her secrets wouldn’t be the biggest mistake of her life.
    She prayed that Navin wouldn’t turn his back on her, once he knew the whole dark and twisted truth.

Donna sat cross-legged on her bed as Navin slouched (his usual position) into the oversized beanbag on her bedroom floor. They had