Eli grumbled. “Does Slorn awaken only the rude ones?”
“I hardly think following orders makes a spirit rude,” came a growly voice. The door ceased its humming, and everyone turned to look as Slorn himself stepped into the room looking very tired and very annoyed.
“Slorn,” Eli said. “How nice to see you again. I was beginning to worry work had eaten you for good.”
“I find it hard to work with so much noise going on.” Slorn folded his arms over his chest. “Aren’t thieves supposed to be quiet?”
“Only when quietness is called for,” Eli said.
“I’m so sorry, Heinricht,” the door said. “I was only trying to protect your privacy, and—”
The bear-headed man silenced it with a wave. “You did well. I was coming out anyway.”
Eli brightened. “Is it done?”
“Mostly,” Slorn said, turning back toward his workroom. “Come in and see, but don’t touch anything.”
Eli sprang across the room and fell in behind him, giving the grumbling door a dazzling smile as he passed. Josef put down his sword and followed at a more reasonable pace, with Nico bringing up the rear.
Eli had been trying to get into Slorn’s workroom since his first visit, and he was not disappointed. The room was in strict order and absolutely full of curiosities. Shelves filled every available bit of wall, and every available bit of shelving was covered with bins of scrap cloth, animal hides, and enormous spools of thread, some of which were glittering, others almost invisible. There were bins of metal as well, all obscurely labeled in Slorn’s spidery writing as “resentful” or “pleasant,” and one locked chest on the top shelf bore a red sign that read “bloodthirsty—for blade cores only.”
There was a large forge in the corner, which was surprising, considering there was no chimney on this side of the house, but it was cold and its anvil had been pushed to the side. Instead, a large loom took up what little floor space there was. It sat empty now, but its shuttles were twitching with exhaustion, coming down off of two days of solid work.
Eli hopped around like a magpie, examining the tool racks, the shelves of materials, the half-finished projects, anything he could get to. Josef, obviously not seeing what the excitement was about, strolled along behind him looking decidedly bored until he spotted something that made him stop midstep. He grabbed Eli’s sleeve, pulling the thief away from the chest of glass knobs he’d been gawking over, and nodded toward the wall. Eli followed his gaze, letting out a low, impressed whistle.
There, hanging from a large iron peg, was a sword unlike any they’d seen. To start, it was enormous, larger even than the Heart of War. The blade, guard, and handle were all the same dark metal, a steel blacker than iron with a red tinge that made Eli shudder. Strangest of all was the edge. The heavy, black metal tapered on one side, sharpening, not to a sword edge, but to a row of jagged, bladed teeth. They ran in an uneven line, like teeth in a sea monster’s jaw, and every one of them gleamed killing sharp. The sword’s surface had a strange, matte finish that made the blade look darker than it was, but when Josef reached out to touch it, Slorn was suddenly there, grabbing his hand halfway.
“I said don’t touch,” the bear man growled.
“Slorn,” Eli said, sliding between the two men with a smile. “I thought you didn’t make swords anymore.”
Slorn let go of Josef’s hand with a low rumble. “I don’t, usually. That’s a custom order for another client.” He glared at the sword. “The rabid piece of junk took me almost two months to finish and it’s not friendly, so I’d appreciate it if you left it alone.”
Despite the warning, Josef leaned in, more interested than ever. “It must weigh what, two hundred? Two fifty?”
“A ton,” Eli said. “Who’s it for, a mountain?”
“I have clients who are mountains,” Slorn said, “but no. And I was told weight didn’t matter, so I didn’t bother to weigh it. Can we move on, please? I don’t have all day.”
He stepped aside, motioning them to the far back corner of the workroom. Eli went cheerfully, Josef less so, but what they saw next put the sword out of their minds. In the corner stood a dressmaker’s dummy half eaten by something that looked like liquid night. Eli blinked and looked again, letting his eyes adjust to the soft light of the workshop, and slowly,