The Crescent Hour ✓

Chapter 14. On the Edge

Eryx exited an empty alley, head bent low and shoulders drawn close together. The washed laundry brushed his hair, much to his displeasure. A rope had been tied between two stone buildings and a row of clothes hang from it, left to dry in the afternoon sun.  He took a busy lane that led to the market area, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Two days had passed since their encounter with the attacker. When Tamer and the others had left and the Great Scribe had been placed under protection, Eryx had gone back to the library to aid Rai.

They had fought the damned assailant. He had proven to be a difficult enemy, fending them off with speed and raw power. He could regenerate his body with ease. He had mutated his hands to hideous claws and it had taken both of them to severe those limbs. That had been his weakness. When they had subdued him and questioned his motives, he had responded with two words.

“Amarant scum.”

And right there, the man’s body had exploded in a mass of black goo from which hundreds upon hundreds of spiders slipped from their grasp, descending to the ground from their threadlike webs. Eryx had squashed quite a few with his feet but it had been pointless. They had sunk into the shadows cast by the objects in the room and he had watched as each of them vanished.

It had been two days since then. They had scouted the city in search of the man but no one had seen him. A vendor passed Eryx, pushing a cart full of second-hand items. Pedestrians shuffled back and forth, snippets of conversation reaching his ears. They were still talking of the events in the library. Some of them looked at him, their expressions brimming with recognition.

He could tell what they would whisper to each other. That he was one of the men who had protected the Great Scribe. That he was a Healer who had come to save them. Between two days of searching for the culprit and using his power to help the sick, Eryx was exhausted. He suspected the librarian had disclosed his abilities to the public.

His eyes wandered to the great stone tower ahead of him, to the gargoyles that stood over wide balconies. There had been no casualty in the library but Eryx feared for Amberforte’s health. The old Zamari had been shaken by the incident.

Something bumped into his legs. He glanced down to see a human child looking up at him, tears running down her dirt streaked face and blue eyes pleading for attention.

“Sir, please help me,” she said.

Eryx steadied the girl. “What is it, child?”

She sniffed, big drops of tears wetting her cheeks. “My brother sir, he…he f-fell off a tree.” Her cries took on a stronger pitch but he managed to hear her words. “I can’t wake him up.”

“Where is he?”

The little girl guided him to a public playground. He saw a group of kids circling a tall tree. They stood back to let him pass. Eryx dropped to his knees and examined the girl’s brother. A smattering of freckles peppered his cheeks and his brown hair was tangled with dirt. Eryx couldn’t see any visible wounds on the boy’s body but a quick check on his head confirmed a small swelling on the back of his scalp.

Placing his hands above the child’s head, he woke his power and felt the warm tingle of magic flowing to his palms. Blue light shone from his hands and fine filaments attached themselves on the boy’s forehead.

The head injury flittered to his mind in such vivid clarity that he could see the extent of damage caused to the tissues. It wasn’t fatal. Healing such a wound would not draw much of his power.

When he had finished tending to the injury, Eryx conducted a scan to ascertain whether there were any other wounds. The thin filaments sent electric pulses that travelled through the boy’s nerves, veins and arteries, searching for internal bleeding or any irregularities to the organs. There were none.