“The metal is designed to absorb something,” she said, frowning. “A liquid. But not ice. Although, perhaps something that could also be present in ice, judging by the small pockmarks in the metal. It looks like it reacted to something.”

Enrique pulled out a notebook and started to sketch the design.

“This symbol…” he said, holding it up to her. “It’s weathered down quite a bit, but I recognize this.”

“Why does it look like a lion with a glass?” She squinted. “And … an urn?”

“Because it is a lion with a pot … and a wineglass,” said Enrique. “It’s showing an Egyptian god that I haven’t seen depicted in ages.”

Behind them came the sound of metal on ice. Zofia whirled around to see the leviathan close its jaws and slide back into the water. She glanced at the Forged moon in the grotto.

It was exactly on time.

The moment it slipped back into the water, a new sight came into view: Hypnos and Eva, standing in the entrance. The redheaded girl was holding a platter of food in her hands.

“I was looking for you both!” said Hypnos. He cast a glance at the oval of water where the creature had disappeared. “But then I was waiting for that”—he gestured in the direction of the leviathan—“to leave. What are you doing? Why didn’t anyone invite me?” He tilted his head to one side. “Why is that lion holding a wineglass? Also, Eva brought food.”

Eva gripped the platter so tightly that her knuckles looked white.

“Ruslan asked me to check on everyone’s progress,” she said, glowering. “I won’t leave until that is done, so don’t waste your time asking.”

Zofia was still mentally sorting through Hypnos’s questions and only nodded at Eva. Beside her, Enrique rubbed his temples.

“Yes,” he said.

“Yes to what? To the food? The questions?” asked Hypnos. “Because ‘yes’ does not explain why that lion is holding a wineglass.”

“Definitely yes to the food.” Enrique gestured them over, and they crossed the grotto to stand before the ice wall.

Hypnos smiled at Enrique, and Zofia noticed that he did not return it. Instead, he turned toward the shield, his face blank.

“See how the symbols stretch across all three shields? They represent a god.”

Hypnos frowned. “There’s a god of lions and wineglasses? That seems incredibly specific.”

“This god is Shezmu,” said Enrique, rolling his eyes. “He’s seldom depicted, perhaps because he’s at such odds with himself. On the one hand, he’s the lord of perfumes and precious oils, often considered something of a celebration deity.”

“My kind of god,” said Hypnos.

“He is also the god of slaughter, blood, and dismemberment.”

“I amend my original statement,” said Hypnos.

“Technically, the ‘blood’ translation might also stand in for ‘wine.’ I’m not quite sure,” said Enrique. He eyed the platter of sandwiches and started to reach for one. “Either way, I’d bet he’s critical to understanding how to open these Tezcats.”

“Opening them?” repeated Eva.

The platter dropped from her hands and hit the floor.

“The sandwiches!” moaned Enrique.

“Why would you open it?”

“We’re here to find the Fallen House’s treasure,” said Zofia. “That means opening things that are closed.”

Eva narrowed her gaze, while Hypnos rubbed Enrique’s back.

“Now about the treasure, mon cher,” said Hypnos.

“You can’t eat treasure,” said Enrique, staring mournfully at the sandwiches.

“Yes, but we can still find it.”

Zofia touched the metal shield once more. Through her metallurgy affinity, she knew the artist had fused together the properties of corkwood and metal … but there was a specific metal that affected the shield most. Something that was also present in ice, apparently, considering the minimal damage done to the original structure.

“The door wants something,” said Zofia. “The metal had absorptive properties, so it seems as though it wants a liquid.”

Hypnos sighed. “The longer I stare at this, the only liquid I want is wine.”

Enrique snapped his fingers. “What if that’s it?”

“Can’t be,” said Zofia. “There’s no wine in ice.”

“There is ice wine, though,” said Hypnos. “Very sweet. In fact, they make an excellent vintage in Russia.”

“You said he was a god of celebration—”

“And blood,” said Enrique. “Or wine.”

“Blood … or wine.”

As far as she knew, there were no metallic properties in wine that someone could manipulate with an affinity.

“It’s blood or ice,” said Eva.

All of them turned to face her. Eva flexed her hand, and for the first time Zofia noticed a strange ring she wore on her pinky. It was curved like a talon.

“All blood Forging artisans are well versed in matter and mind, but we particularly excel at ice because of its metallic content.”

“There’s iron in both ice and blood,” said Zofia slowly.

“Naturally occurring ice, at least,” said Eva. “Boiled water left out in freezing temperatures isn’t nearly as receptive to my affinity, but ice from lakes and oceans? Very rich in metal.”

Enrique inched away from the shield. “So you think the door wants … blood?”

“Only experiment confirms hypothesis,” said Zofia.

“It’s your hypothesis. Might as well commit to it,” said Eva. She uncurled her hand, her metal talon glinting. “I can make it painless.”

Zofia swallowed, then held out her hand only for Hypnos to step between her and Eva. He gently pushed down her arm.

“I cannot see you hurt, ma chère,” he said softly. “Allow me.”

“Allow” was a strange word. Zofia had never considered that she might grant someone permission to protect her, and a feeling of warmth—like gulping down not-too-hot soup—settled into her chest. She stepped back wordlessly.

“You look like you have practice in such recreation, Patriarch,” said Eva.

Hypnos merely held out his hand. Eva slashed her taloned ring across it, leaving his palm bloody. Grimacing, Hypnos pressed his hand to the metal. A moment passed, then two …

“I hope I did not ruin myself for nothing,” muttered Hypnos. “That was my favorite palm, you know.”

But a moment later, a change took place in the metal shield. The edges of the metal lit up, making a small puffing sound of release as it broke away from the ice wall. Enrique moved closer, and the three of them formed a tight knot as the metal door swung open like a lid covering a tunnel to reveal—

“A boarded-up brick wall?” demanded Hypnos. “I wasted my blood on that?”

Enrique got close to the wall, scratching at it with his nail.

“It smells awful,” said Eva, recoiling.

“It’s been boarded up for a long time,” said Enrique, pointing to the fine trellis of moss that had broken up the brick.