Watching Desmond strike his right chest like a man swearing on honor would, Adam massaged his brow. "Trust you?" he murmured, the weight of the word pressing against the lid of the vault in his heart.
The question flashed for a heartbeat. To unlock the vault, or not?
Then, he nodded, letting one slip out.
"Do you remember the coat your father struggled to win at the auction?"
"It's in my room." A frown creased Desmond's brow. "Will we need it against the golem?"
Adam simply shook his head, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "From sewing to enchanting, I crafted it, just as I did the nineteen others and twenty wands auctioned that day."
The answer was instantaneous. Desmond's eyes widened, his face leaned forward, and his jaw dropped wide enough for a fist to fit in it. His voice came out a pitch higher than usual a second later. "You are the mysterious enchanter?"
