“Why?” Sariel blinked.
“Fuck if I know.” Seymour laughed. “Just somethin’ they wanted to do. I swear these are my mama’s pictures, but…” He zeroed in on the photograph above the couch. “That’s Niagara Falls.”
“Not in North Carolina?”
“Definitely not.” Seymour climbed up on the couch to remove the picture. The wall behind it was blank. “Well, shit.”
“Look at the back.” Sariel pointed.
Seymour turned the frame around and was startled to find a keyhole. “The fuck?”
“How curious.”
Seymour reached into his pocket to pull out his keys. “You know, this is a long shot… but maybe it ain’t. See this key here? I got it from Mr. Talos. My dad left it to me. I ain’t got no idea what it’s gonna do.”
“I suppose there is only one way to find out.” Sariel squeezed Seymour’s shoulder. “I will be right here no matter what.”
“Think a bunch of faeries are gonna pop out to suck my blood?”
“I will be right here no matter what,” Sariel repeated firmly.
“Was expecting a hardno,that can’t happen,Seymour. But okay! Fine!” Seymour took a deep breath and stuck the key in the hole.
The key fit perfectly.
It should have been stopped by the glass, but Seymour decided it was best not to question it. If he stopped to nitpick every weird magical thing he’d experienced today, he wasn’t going to get anything done. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and turned the key.
There was a click, and the paint peeled itself right off the walls in large rolls. The rolls stacked together to form a large four-legged structure, soon followed by the picture frames stacking themselves across the top to create a flat surface.
“A desk,” Seymour said flatly. “I made a desk.”
“Well.” Sariel hummed. “It’s a very nice desk.”
A giant stack of papers, scrolls, and books dropped onto the desk in a huge dusty heap. There was also a worn cardboard box, and it was packed full of odd gadgets and trinkets.
Seymour pulled the key out, waited to make sure nothing else was going to happen, and then stuck them back in his pocket. “What the hell is all that stuff?”
Sariel picked through some of the papers. “It appears to be research about the wizard.”
“Norbert?”
“Yes.” Sariel handed one of the papers to Seymour.
The handwriting was difficult to read, but there were small sketches of rings, a bracelet, a necklace, and a crown.
“I recognize that there Reliquary doodad, but I guess ol’ Norbert really did make other stuff. A bunch of it.” Seymour squinted at the scribbles around one of the rings. “The Jaded Ossuary? The fuck is that?”
“It must be one of Norbert’s other creations, as you suggested.” Sariel peered over Seymour’s shoulder. “There are so many more than I thought. Momento Mori. The Cameo.”
“Mal-le-dick-tus?” Seymour struggled to sound out a particularly illegible word.
Sariel leaned close enough for their breath to mingle. “Ah,Maledictus Anulus. I believe it is Latin.”
“Do you…” Seymour was aware now of how little distance there was between them, but he didn’t want to move away. Sariel’s eyes were even more blue than he’d realized, and he lost track of whatever it was he was going to ask.
Sariel smiled. “What is it?”
Shit.
