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7:55 p.m.

“So whatever the sword did to you, it did the same thing to Uncle Corin?” Angela asked, standing beside Ezekiel as he locked the front door to the dealership.

Ezekiel gave a nod and tucked his keys away. “Once we authenticate the spatha, I’ll purchase it and store it where Corin and I can do further investigations in peace.” He started walking in one direction, but halted and turned about. “Oh, whoops. Sorry, I just remembered the parking garage I normally use is under renovation. My car’s the other way.”

They strolled down the block away from Bloodstone Antiquities, but Angela had a thought and glanced back at the dealership. “Why don’t I look at the sword before we go? Maybe it will show me a memory too?”

Ezekiel gave Angela an apprehensive look. “Corin said we should be cautious with this item. There’s no telling what other effects it might have on people.”

“But has it affected anyone else?” Angela folded her arms. “You and Uncle Corin aren’t the only people who’ve handled it.”

Ezekiel stroked his beard. “True, Keiko and Hugo have also touched the sword, but they’ve said nothing to me of having visions of the past. Then again, I wonder if they would tell anyone if they had. They’re normal folk, and I imagine they would be reticent to share any peculiar experiences that would lead others to question their sanity. In any event, I’m sure Corin would not appreciate my using you to experiment with the sword.”

Angela sighed and continued onward with Ezekiel. “No, he wouldn’t.” They rounded the street corner and made for a parking lot up the road, walking by an extravagant cathedral with a lofty clocktower. “So what did you think of my friend, Honor?”

“He’s a charming fellow,” Ezekiel replied with what looked like a delighted smile. “Quite humorous.” Except the emotions Ezekiel gave off didn’t fit his demeanor. An aura of irritation radiated from him in acidic waves.

“You didn’t like him?” Angela blurted in disappointment.

Ezekiel stopped and gave Angela a look like a deer caught in the headlights. “Right, yes, you’re an empath.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I’m sure your friend is a decent chap. But my God, he’s so pesky!” He threw his hands up in aggravation. “I mean, he has no filter whatsoever! He belittled the meticulous care Keiko put into our collection, nauseated everyone with his macabre details on vampires and dead bodies, and he kept calling me Zeke. Zeke! Do I look like a Zeke to you?”

Angela covered her mouth, trying to stifle a snort of amusement. “Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. I’ve just never seen you exasperated before.”

Ezekiel pressed a hand over his forehead. “No, no, I’m sorry. He’s your friend, and I shouldn’t be so thin-skinned.” He chuckled and walked on. “I’m glad my vexation amuses you, though. Again, I’m sure Honorato’s a decent fellow. Perhaps I can stomach his needling personality if our interactions are in small doses.”

“Look, I get it,” Angela said, falling in step beside Ezekiel. “Honorato is … a lot, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. We were bullied all throughout grade school, and he always stood up for me. His whole pesky no-fucks-given schtick was his way of coping with the constant ridicule of our classmates.”

Ezekiel’s shoulders slumped. “See, knowing all that, now I feel like a complete heel.”

They had just passed the cathedral when the belltower began to ring the hour. Ezekiel made a strangled noise at the first bell toll, clutched his chest, and fell to his knees.

“Ezekiel, what’s wrong?” Angela cried.

“The church bell,” Ezekiel choked out, his face sickly pale and the veins in his neck bulging. “It’s warding against me!”

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