"Wolfe never struck me as a guy who leaves the house very much," said Adrian. He knocked on the door, and almost instantly, we heard a flurry of barking and scampering feet. I grimaced. Wolfe, for reasons I would never be able to understand, kept a herd of Chihuahuas in his house. He'd once told us that they could kill a man upon a single command.
We waited a few minutes, but the barking was the only sign that there was any sort of life inside. Adrian knocked one more time (driving the dogs into an even greater frenzy) and then shrugged. "I guess you were - "
The door suddenly opened - just a slit - and one gray eye peered out at us from underneath a chain. "Oh," came a grizzled voice. "It's you two."
The door closed, and I heard the chain being unlocked. A moment later, Wolfe slipped outside, careful not to let any of the dogs out. He had a patch over his left eye, which was probably just as well since his other eye alone seemed to peer straight through me. "You should've called," he said. "I nearly turned the dogs on you."
Wolfe was dressed in his favorite pair of Bermuda shorts as well as a T-shirt showing a bald eagle riding on a monster truck. The eagle held an American flag in one set of talons and a samurai sword in the other. That seemed a weird weapon choice for such a patriotic shirt, but we'd long since learned not to question his wardrobe. That had come after he'd kicked a woman out of our class who'd dared to ask if he only had one pair of shorts or several identical ones.
"What do you kids need?" he asked. "Next classes don't start until after New Year's."
Adrian and I exchanged glances. "We, um, need a gun," I said. "I mean, just to borrow."
Wolfe scratched his beard. "I don't lend them out to students who haven't taken my gun class. Safety first." I found it promising, however, that he lent out guns at all. It was a sign of his character that he didn't even bother asking why we wanted one.
"I've already had training," I said. That was true. It was mandatory for all Alchemists. I'd done well in it, but as I'd mentioned to Adrian, I really didn't like guns at all. At least a knife had other uses. But a gun? It was only there to injure or kill.
Wolfe arched an eyebrow, the one over his good eye. Clearly, he didn't believe me. "Can you back that up?"
"Do you have a shooting range?" I returned coolly.
He almost looked offended. "Of course I do."
He led us to a building beyond the garage we'd trained in. I'd never been inside this building before, but like his house, it had no windows. The door was covered in enough locks to meet with Alchemist security standards. He let us inside, and I gaped when I saw not only a practice range but also a wall covered in various types of guns. Wolfe gave the small holding space a once-over.
"Earmuffs must be in the house. Be right back."
I continued staring at the wall, knowing my eyes were wide. "There's no way those are all legal."
Adrian's response was unexpected. "Did you notice his eye patch?"
I dragged my gaze from the arsenal. "Um, yes. From the day we first met him."
"No, no. I mean, I swear it was on his other eye last time."
"It was not," I said immediately.
"Are you sure?" asked Adrian.
I wasn't, I realized. Words and numbers were easy for me to memorize. But other details, like clothing or hair - or eye patches - were sometimes easy for me to miss. "That doesn't make any sense," I finally said. "Why would he do that?"
"He's Malachi Wolfe," said Adrian. "Why wouldn't he do that?"
I couldn't argue against that.
Wolfe returned with ear protection. After examining his wall, he selected a small handgun and then unlocked a cabinet containing ammunition. At least he didn't leave a bunch of loaded guns around.
"I'll do that," I told him. I took the gun from him and effortlessly loaded it. He made a small grunt of approval. He gestured toward the far end of the range, to a large paper cutout showing a human silhouette with various targets marked on it.
"Now then," he said. "Don't worry about hitting the - "
I fired, perfectly emptying the clip into the most difficult targets. I handed the gun to him. He handed it back. Behind him, I could see Adrian staring at me with enormous eyes.
"Keep it," said Wolfe. "You passed. You've gotta buy your own ammunition, but as long as you fill out the rental agreement, you're good to go."
As it turned out, the "rental agreement" was a piece of paper where he wrote the gun type on one side and I put my initials on the other. "Really?" I asked. "That's all I need to do? I mean, I'm glad, but . . ." I didn't really know what else to say.
Wolfe waved off my protests. "You're a good kid. If you say you need a gun, I believe you. Someone giving you trouble?"
I slipped the gun into my messenger bag. "Something like that."
Wolfe glanced over at Adrian. "What about you? You need a gun too?"
"I'm good," said Adrian. "Besides, I haven't had the training. Safety first."