The Iron Witch by Karen Mahoney Page A

done this for the last three years—talking far into the night in either her room or his, whether or not there was school the next day.
    “So,” said Navin.
    “So.”
    “Elves.” He raised an eyebrow.
    “Uh-huh.”
    “It didn’t look much like Orlando Bloom … ”
    Donna threw the nearest cushion at his head. “I wondered how long it would take you.”
    “What?” He gave her his best wounded expression, all big brown eyes and indignation.
    She forced a smile, trying to push down a rising sense of panic. She was so tired thinking about it all; why couldn’t she just have a normal life?
    “Earth to Donna,” Navin said.
    “Sorry. I was just … you know. Thinking.”
    Navin heaved himself out of the beanbag chair and came over to sit on the bed next to her. He put his arm around her and she gratefully leaned into his warmth, her head resting on his shoulder.
    “Donna, it’ll be okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
    “Navin, it’s not that simple … ”
    “So make it simple. Just tell me what that thing was—what this means .”
    “It’s just that I’m not supposed to tell. Anyone . Not even you.”
    “I’m not going to say anything. Who am I going to tell? Dad? Nisha? She’d open her big mouth to her friends if I told her what color your bedroom walls are, never mind any of this stuff.”
    Donna bit back a smile. Navin’s younger sister wasn’t known for her discretion. “She’s just young.”
    “She’s fifteen and should know better by now. She’s such a little gossip.” Navin shifted on the bed and Donna lifted her eyes to his. “Anyway, forget her. Tell me about that thing back at Maker’s. The … elf. And who is this Maker? Is that his real name?”
    “I think we should start with him—and with the Order. You need to know that before you can understand the more crazy stuff.”
    Navin nodded, for all the world as if there was anything sane about any of this. “Right. The Order. You mentioned it back at the workshop. Is it, like, something to do with witchcraft? A group your aunt belongs to?”
    Donna sighed. Here went nothing . “Yes, it is a group Aunt Paige belongs to—a group she was born into, just like I was—but it’s got nothing to do with witchcraft or paganism. It’s actually short for ‘The Order of the Dragon.’ The members are alchemists, and it’s a secret society that’s been around for centuries.”
    “Please don’t tell me there are actual dragons involved.” There was a pained expression on Navin’s face. “I’m trying to be cool here, but that might ruin everything.”
    Donna couldn’t hold back a smile. “Don’t worry, it’s just a symbolic thing. There are four alchemical Orders, but ours is the oldest and one of the only ones that’s still actively involved in anything magical. The dragon has always been linked with alchemy, especially the great serpent, the ouroboros. It’s usually shown lying in a circle—mouth to tail—devouring itself.”
    “Magic?” Navin said faintly. “For real? Is it like in Charmed ? Because I think I could handle that. Maybe.”
    Donna knew that the only reason Navin watched Charmed was because of his huge crush on Alyssa Milano. “Are you listening to any of this?” she demanded. “You’re the one who insisted on knowing the truth.” She was trying to hide how afraid she was that every word out of her mouth would drive Navin further and further away.
    “I’m listening. I’m fine.” The expression on Navin’s face said that he was anything but fine, despite his enthusiasm for her blowing away his entire worldview. “What were you saying about … um … Oberon?”
    “ Ouroboros . It’s a symbol. Here, let me show you.” Donna swung her legs off the bed and crouched down by her bookshelves, glad of an excuse to move. To do something. Grabbing a thick volume jacketed in a glossy collection of symbols from around the world, she flopped back down next to Navin and began leafing through the