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A bit hesitant, Hector retrieved the helm from his bag and put it on the table.

“Whoa,” said Lance. “This is really smooth, too. Cast iron, isn’t it? You have access to a furnace, too?”

He wasn’t sure how else to explain it, so he just said, “Y-yeah.”

“Are you gonna add some ornamental lines to it?”

“Uh... m-maybe.”

“What do you think about making a full suit of armor?” said Lance, and Hector blinked. “It’d be a pretty big project for just one person, but between the two of us, I think it’d be manageable. Maybe enter it into a competition or something.”

“Uh... that, uh...”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I was just thinking of making some greaves next and got to wondering.”

“Ah, no... I mean, uh, sure. That sounds... pretty cool.”

“Yeah? Awesome. I was thinking we’d make various parts independently and then piece them together later.”

“Hmm.” Hector scratched his forehead. “But, uh... well, that could be a problem if we don’t, um... correlate our measurements or whatever.”

“Ah, you’re right. Maybe we should make the breastplate together, then. Once that is done, we can take proper measurements and then split up to make the smaller stuff like the gorget and pauldrons and such.”

“Gorget is for the neck, right? What’re pauldrons for?”

“Shoulders. There are lots of other parts to choose from, too. Vambraces for the forearms. Couters for the elbows. And tons of others. We could probably spend the rest of the school year making all the different things.”

“I see.” Hector eyed the gauntlets again as a quiet thought struck him.

“We can get started tomorrow, if you like. Just come over to my uncle’s place after school. He’s got lots of scrap metal we can melt down and use.”

“Ah, o-okay...”

Page 220

To Hector’s surprise, he was not hounded with questions from the other club members as soon as he entered the room. He received an occasional glance and nothing more, which stirred a mixture of emotion in him. On the one hand, he was all too glad to not be the center of attention again; but on the other, it reminded him of lonelier days, of that old feeling in his chest, as if his heart were being slowly squeezed.

‘This shit again,’ said Garovel, shaking Hector out of his morass. ‘They were worried about you when they thought you’d been injured, but I guess that’s worn off now.’

‘It’s fine. In fact, it’s probably better this way.’

‘Okay, Hector, it’s time to tell me why the hell they’re ignoring you like this. It’s annoying me, and I want to know.’

‘Ugh...’

Lance entered the clubroom, saw Hector, and immediately started walking over.

‘Aw, dammit, c’mon!’ Garovel pointed a bony finger at Hector. ‘You’re gonna tell me before we leave here today!’

‘Okay, fine...’

“Hey, Hector,” said Lance. “I was starting to think you’d quit the club again.”

“No, I’ve... just been, ah, busy.”

“Mm.” Lance smiled. He put his backpack on the table and rummaged through it. “Have a look.” He pulled out a pair of gauntlets.

Hector’s eyes widened. The ornate lines along the interlocking finger parts were particularly impressive, he felt. The fingertips were all pointed, almost like claws, and he could see that Lance had used more than one type of metal to achieve the varying tones of gray. “Wow...”

“Told you I could do it.”

“You sure did...” He went to pick one up, then confirmed Lance’s nod before inspecting it more closely. “How’d you get the metal so smooth? You couldn’t have just used a hammer.”

“No, I used my uncle’s furnace and molded all the big pieces from a melted state.”

“That’s really awesome...”

“Thanks. What about you? Did you ever finish your helm?”

Page 219

“How is your plan going, by the way?” Geoffrey asked.

‘Well, Prince Gabriel has been cooperative, though he doesn’t know the full extent of our plans, of course. The King, though, has been resistant. To his credit, he didn’t concede any ground until Desmond ripped his arm off.’

“Ooh! Can I have the arm?!”

‘Um. I’m not sure what we did with it. Sorry.’

“Aww.”

‘If you’d stayed, you could’ve torn it off yourself.’

“There is no need to rub it in.”

‘I’m pretty sure we’ll have to kill the King sooner or later. You can still come back and be a part of that, you know.’

“Hmm. Let us find Mr. Colt quickly, then.”

They visited the diner first but found no useful information. Geoffrey immediately wanted to kill the last person they talked to out of sheer disappointment, but Moss hoisted him over his shoulder and left the diner.

It would be some hours before they finally found a candidate. The elderly receptionist of a ratty motel paused to think a moment when Geoffrey asked about a man with two babies.

“Hmm.” The man smirked. “Perhaps if I had something to refresh my memory...” He tapped the wooden counter in front of him.

“That will not be necessary.” Geoffrey looked at Ozmere, who nodded. He grinned as the red shade poured forth.

The man’s scream died in his mouth, and his eyes hollowed out into flaming shadows.

Geoffrey could see the memories. An entire life--dimensioned and complicated, sad and happy, regretful and grateful.

It bored him.

He searched for the face he wanted to see, as simple as if the memories had been his own. “Ah!” said Geoffrey. “Hello, Mr. Colt.”

‘Do you know where he went?’

“I know who to ask next.”

‘Lead on, then.’

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Hector made it to the end of the school day. He was anxious about carpentry club, as he figured it to be the only other place where his absence might have been noticed.