It Is A Truth Universally Acknowledged

“It is a truth universally acknowledged—"

"By who?" asked a disembodied voice.

"Fae. Demons. All of us,” PJ, the satyr, answered.

“All the magical beasties." the voice said mockingly.

The satyr’s brass-tipped hooves rang against the shop floor as he clomped over to the pickup truck. “Not beasts, Buford. Well, not all of us.”

“Sure. Hand me the socket wrench.” A hand shot out from under the sideboard. “Not the Allen wrench. No, the—yeah.” PJ handed it over, wincing, and the clanking continued as the satyr blew on his singed fingers. “So, what’s this truth?”

“Magical creatures cannot touch iron, or shouldn’t. It burns terribly.”

A head popped out from under the truck. “Oh, man. Sorry about that.”

“Think nothing of it. You usually don’t.” PJ cradled his hand. “The question is, how do you?”

Buford rolled out of sight. "I’m half-human.”

“So is May.”

“Don’t let her hear you saying that. Besides, she has mechanical wings.”

“You built them from silver, copper, and brass. No iron.”

“Guess I'm just not one of ‘us’.”

“Oh, you’re definitely a demon, particularly in the morning.” PJ ran water over his fingers. He stopped, stunned, eyes wide, seeing what hung over the sink. “That’s it!”

“What?” Buford rolled out.

PJ pointed at a metal disk. “You were born under the Metallic Star.”

Buford squinted at the three-pointed Mercedes symbol. “That’s a hubcap.”

“H-U-B-C-A-P!” the satyr said with awe. “Of course.”

“Yep, I reckon that’s it.” Buford snorted and rolled back under.

Composite Photo by Julia V. Ashley