Rory waved it away. “I was being stupid yesterday,” he said earnestly. “You were right, he’s not interested in you, and it isn’t real sporting to dislike a fella just ’cause he’s good looking.”

Arthur blinked, his chest growing tighter. “I didn’t realize you thought he was good looking.”

“Well, yeah,” Rory said, like it was obvious. “I got eyes behind these glasses.”

All right, Rory thought Sebastian was good looking. And Sebastian spoke more Italian phrases than Arthur did. That was fine, Arthur was fine with that, why wouldn’t he be?

“Have fun at the veterans’ thing with your ex,” Rory said, without an ounce of jealousy, and Arthur watched as he went back to Sebastian.

Six people in a back room was a tight fit for a quiet conversation, and Sebastian was willing to talk in the pub. Even in the alley, the spring air was wet with a misty rain that left a film on Rory’s glasses and made his curls tighter spirals.

Inside the dark pub, they got drinks and squeezed into the same corner wooden booth as the day before. There were carvings and pen marks on the wall of the booth, lovers’ initials and swear words. The window could’ve used a good cleaning, or maybe the day was just a grimy sort of gray.

Rory glanced around, but no one was paying them any attention. Gritting his teeth against the sting, he fished the lead ring box out of his pocket.

“So,” Sebastian started, “what did you—”

Rory slapped the box down on the middle of the table.

Sebastian’s eyes went wide. “Is that—”

“We call it the Tempest Ring,” said Rory.

Sebastian stared at the ring box for a moment, then reached for it. His expression barely twitched as he touched the lead, just like Gwen had trivialized the same sting that still felt like intolerable needles on Rory’s own skin. Rory wasn’t sure he wanted to think about where either of them might have gotten their tolerance for pain.

Sebastian cracked the lid.

Rory took a breath through his nose as an echo of wind rushed in his blood. “You know I’m psychometric,” he said, softly enough no one would overhear. “History’s sorta my thing. I’ve seen the past of three relics now and I know the story I’ve heard is true: they were made by seven nobles during the Spanish Inquisition to hide their magic from a paranormal inquisitor who saw magic like Gwen does.”