Two days after the duke’s visit, I received a request from the smith to come to his shop. It was a tricky place to find, and I walked past it twice before I finally found the shop door, which was so unremarkable that it nearly blended into the brick wall.

The doorbell rang when I entered. The shop was composed of a small chamber, smelling of leather and iron and cleaning oil. Swords of all kinds were displayed on one wall, as well as axes and daggers. A few suits of armor caught my attention. I paused before a steel-plated set that reminded me of the one the knight wore, only far less sinister. Indeed, I felt as if I had stepped back in time. All these weapons and armor . . . not many people possessed such things anymore. They were figments of the past. And the air was dusted with nostalgia, with the memory of fading things.

“May I help you?”

I turned to see a middle-aged man with thinning brown hair and sharp eyes, a pair of wire spectacles perched on his hawk nose. He wore a leather apron, and his hands were covered in grime.

“I’m Anna Neven,” I said.

“Ah, yes. I need to take your measurements.” He hurried behind his desk and found a spool of measuring tape.

I had told the duke that armor would slow Phelan and me down considerably. And I wanted to protest until the smith measured my height and my left arm, studying my shoulder and the way I stood.

“You’re not making armor?” I asked.

“No. A shield.”

A shield would be helpful, I thought. Although I remembered how the knight’s sword had shattered Phelan’s rapier like it had been composed of glass. It could just as easily sunder a buckler, but I held my doubt.

“How long have you been practicing deviah?” I asked.

The smith glanced at me, a suspicious arch in his brow. “Long enough, I suppose.”

“Were you a warden before?”

“No. But I am familiar with avertana.”

“Do you often create enchanted armor?”

He gave me an exasperated expression. “Do you often come into shops and ask a hundred questions?”

I blushed. “I’m sorry. I just find your vein of work quite fascinating.”

That mollified his gruffness. Slightly. “Creating enchanted armor is extremely difficult, even for the most experienced magicians. It would take years to achieve one suit. Now, then, Miss Neven. I’ll deliver the shields to Mr. Vesper’s town house when they are ready.” He wrote down a few notes, which I took as his way of dismissing me.