"Seems likely. But he never got a chance to use it."

"Do we open it?" said Suzie.

"Give me a minute," I said.

I couldn't afford to open my gift for finding things all the way, not with angels hovering in the over-world, waiting for the chance to grab me again. But I could ease my third eye, my private eye, open just a crack, just enough to find out what defences the Collector had built into the case. I braced myself, ready to shut down all of the way if I even sensed anyone watching me, but it only took me a few seconds to sense there were no defences, and no booby-traps. Faced with an angel, this guy must have revoked all the case's protections to try and get at the content faster. I shut down my third eye, and re-established all my mental shields.

And then I opened the case.

The smell hit me first. The smell of hardworking horses, the scent of dogs maddened on heat, the stench of freshly spilled guts. I pushed the lid all the way back. And there, nestled in a bed of black velvet, was the ugliest handgun I have ever seen. It was made of meat. Of flesh and bone, dark-veined gristle, and shards of cartilage, held together with strips of pale skin. Living tissues, shaped into a killing tool. Thin slabs of bone made up the handle, surrounded by freckled skin. The flushed skin had a hot and sweaty look. The trigger was a long canine tooth, and the red meat of the barrel glistened wetly.

"Is that... what I think it is?" said Suzie.

I swallowed hard. "It fits the description." We were both speaking very quietly.

"The Speaking Gun. The Collector had it after all."

"Yes."

"Is it... alive, do you think?"

"Good question. No, don't touch it. You might wake it."

Suzie leaned in close, wrinkling her nose at the smell, then frowned and turned her head to one side. Strands of her long blonde hair fell down, almost touching the thing as she listened. She straightened up again and looked at me. "I think it's breathing."

"The Speaking Gun," I said. "A gun created specifically to kill angels, from Above and Below. Damn... We are in deep spiritual waters here, Suzie."

"Who made it?" she said suddenly. "Who'd want to be able to kill angels?"

"No-one knows for sure. Merlin's name has been bandied about, but he gets blamed for a lot of stuff... There's always The Lamentation or The Engineer, but they usually deal in more abstract threats ..." Something on the bone handle caught my eye, and I leaned forward. Etched deep into the bone were lines of tiny writing. I struggled with it for a while, then admitted defeat. "Suzie, you take a look at this. You've got better eyes than me."

She leaned in close again, holding her long hair back, and slowly read out the words on the bone handle. "Abraxus Artificers. The old firm. Solving problems since the Beginning." She straightened up again, frowned, and looked at me. "Any of that mean anything to you?"