Page 22 of Kin of the Wolf

Once he’d coated his hands, he tried unfastening the clasp. As before, it didn’t move, and neither did the lid.

“I’ve seen you rip open a steel door,” I said.

“Yes, and I could apply more force here, but…” Duncan turned the case over, eyeing it from all angles as whatever was inside clunked about. “I would prefer not to damage it, both because it’s a valuable magical artifact in its own right and because there might be a backlash.”

“Backlash like the magic knocking you through the windshield?”

“That’s a distinct possibility.” Duncan set the case down and delved into one of his storage containers. “I am undeniably curious about the contents though. What’s inside that can heal venom, poison, and werewolf bites?”

“What kinds of things are usually made using cobalt?” I had no idea, but a guy who fished for metal and magic for a living ought to know.

“Lots of items have cobalt in them. Batteries, pigments, drying agents, tooth implants…” Duncan poked in the storage container as he spoke. “It’s also used in superalloys for gas turbine and aircraft engines.”

“Oh yes. An aircraft engine.That’swhat must be in the case.”

He lifted out one of his magnets with a flourish. “Cobalt is also used in these.”

“Magnets?”

“Yes.” Duncan held it over the case without touching it. A thunk sounded as the item inside hit the bottom of the lid.

“That’s kind of interesting,” I said, though I wasn’t sure it clued us in that much about the contents. “Did druids usually make artifacts out of metal?”

“I don’t think they made armor and weapons out of metal, but they did use bronze, copper, and lead for some of their artifacts. And possibly cobalt, though I don’t know if I’ve heard of that specifically.”

“I can ask Bolin.”

After causing the item within to thunk against the lining of the case a few more times, Duncan sighed and put away his magnet.

“Do you think Radomir and Abrams know what’s inside?” I asked.

For that matter, had Chad known? When I’d eavesdropped, he’d sounded like he knew more about the case than he’d told Duncan.

“I don’t know.”

“If they kneweverythingabout it and the other artifacts they were collecting, they wouldn’t have needed me to come up and touch things.”

“They only cared about you touching your mother’s medallion, though, right?”

“True. I was the one who was poking everything else to buy time. Still, it seemed like they might be in the studying process. Maybe they’re collecting everything they can related to werewolves, because…” I shrugged and looked at Duncan. He was more likely to know at least Abrams’ motivations than I.

“It could be a key.” Duncan made a turning motion in the air.

“A magical key?”

“Sure. To open a magical vault somewhere, perhaps. Abigone buried in a mountain and guarded by a dragon. It could be full of ancient and exotic treasures.” His eyes gleamed at the notion.

“I would accuse you of avarice, but you consider rusty bike locks to be treasures. I think you just like the search.”

“I do enjoy the challenge, and I’m willing to sift through lesser items, sometimes referred to as junk, to find more interesting prizes.”

“Since you gave me a sword you presumably found, I won’t suggest that your efforts are futile.”

“Certainly not. How do you think I afford my opulent lifestyle?” Duncan spread his arms, his knuckles bumping both sides of the van.

“You have a composting toilet.”

“An opulent one.”

---