Kits sat against the frostbitten wall, a halberd’s broken staff resting across one shoulder. The axe head was at the other end of the room, embedded into half-melted plaster about two inches above the floor. The axe’s blade had warped with the heat, twisted its shape, and there wasn’t much hope of removing it without taking a good chunk out of the wall too. Kits didn’t want to damage this place any more than she already had. Not that it was her fault. It was Milli’s fault. Which was what Kaia was trying to explain to their human hosts: a mother, her adolescent daughter, and the father of the household.

“The dragonflies move things,” said Kaia. “That’s what we were trying to tell you before.”

“You were a fox before,” said the father. According to the teenager, who’d brought Kits and Kaia here in the first place, his name was Dad. The mother was Mom. Dad crossed his arms and his face pinched. It was clear he didn’t know what to make of the situation, even though he’d seen it with his own eyes.

Kits and Kaia got that a lot.

The adolescent, Melanie, held a dog by its collar. Its coat was tawny gold and it wagged its tail during the entire exchange, lips pulled back, tongue lolling. Kits found herself smiling at it in admiration. A smile was something that couldn’t be taken. Feelings were in that category too. Thinking that, she almost frowned.

“I can be a fox again in a heartbeat, as you saw.” Kaia took a slow breath, and Kits felt through the soul link she was gathering patience. “My point is Kits isn’t crazy, neither of us took anything that wasn’t ours, and the dragonflies are way more dangerous than we are. It’s the nature of their power.”

“But all they do is move stuff around,” said Melanie. “How can that be scary?”

The dog’s tail stopped wagging. It closed its mouth.

“Because power in the hands of a sadist is always a straight way to cruelty,” mumbled Kits, who was too tired at the moment to keep up appearances. “That brat gets really creative about what she steals and where she puts it. Y’know, like. One second you could be having a nice time just living your life. But the next, she could decide to move a knife into your spine. Magic’s terrifying if you think about implications.”

Melanie shuddered and in response the dog sat down, leaning against her legs, looking up at her with relaxed ears. She knelt and gave it a hug. Slower than before, its tail started wagging again. Mom crooked her index finger and bit down on it, her eyebrows squished so far together they might as well be one growth. Dad maintained his cross-armed posture. He made a noise deep in his throat, looked from Kits to Kaia back to Kits.

“You need to leave,” said Dad.

“Did I shatter your illusions of safety?” asked Kits without bothering to hide the snark. “My bad.”

“Kits,” said Kaia. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Tell the truth?”

“We’re leaving,” announced Kaia. “Sorry for the trouble.”

“Wait.” Kits got up, tilted her head at the human family. “I didn’t mean to be a jerk. Rough day. Gotta ask though. Did any of the dragonflies land on you?”

The family looked at each other.

“Humor me,” said Kits. “One last time. Then we’re outta here.”

“I don’t think so,” said Melanie. “I mean, I didn’t feel anything. Dad? Mom?”

Mom and Dad had an entire conversation via expression. Mom took her finger out from under her teeth and shook her head at Kits.

“Then you should be fine.” Kits jogged over to the axe head stuck in the wall. “At least when it comes to the dragonflies. Uh.” She yanked and tugged and even melted a tiny bit more of the metal trying to remove the axe head but nothing worked. It was very stuck. So stuck in fact that Kits couldn’t figure out how she’d gotten it in there so far in the first place. Eventually she had to yield. “Oops about the halberd. I sorta can’t get it out.”

“Of course you can’t get it out,” grumbled Kaia.

“I mean I can’t without ruining the wall.”

“Think you already ruined the wall, Kits.”

“Not all the way! There’s some parts not melted.”

“Ladies,” said Dad in a booming voice. “You were leaving.”

Melanie winced. Hers became the face of someone who had nothing they could do about Dad’s verdict. Now Mom’s arms were crossed too. The dog’s tail swished back and forth across the floor but its big brown eyes were pensive.

Kaia practically dragged Kits to the front door. On the way, Kits warmed the air to remove the frost from the wall she’d used as a backrest.

“Keep an eye out for dragonflies,” said Kits. “You don’t wanna touch one of those. Trust me.”

“But,” said Melanie. “What stops them from messing with us after you’re gone?”

“Nothing,” said Kits.

“We don’t provide much protection anyway,” said Kaia. “Best thing to do is be boring. The dragonflies hate boring.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Melanie in a desperate voice full of bafflement.

“It means don’t call attention to yourselves,” said Kaia. “If you have any secret desires, I’d suggest not voicing them.”

“You can still work toward them though,” added Kits.

The human family stared at them, each with a different expression. Mom was shocked. Dad seemed angry, which was understandable. Melanie looked a little slack jawed, probably scared. The dog wriggled away from Melanie and met Kits and Kaia at the door. Kits reached down, closed her eyes, and ran her hands along the smooth texture of the dog’s golden coat.

“There are things she can’t steal,” said Kits. “Things like this.”