Clergy groaned awake, his body still marred with aches and pains. He shook his head. God, how many times can this happen in one day? He thought to himself. Once had been bad enough, but twice? He grit his teeth as another headache came.

Yeah, he definitely didn't need to make a habit of this.

He sat up, doing his best not to aggravate his wounds. Looking down he saw he was lying in a bed and it was... normal. Just a plain mattress, white sheets, and a thin wool blanket. His clothes were normal too. His prison rags had been replaced with an off-white tunic with long sleeves, and a pair of baggy brown trousers underneath. Wait a minute, he thought, white sheets? It couldn't be. He brought the sheets up to his nose and took a deep breath. The subtle aroma of fresh linens filled his nose. He smiled. These were clean sheets. The realization nearly brought him to tears. Who knew something as simple as clean clothes and sheets could bring him so much joy. Maybe the best parts of life were always right under our noses; waiting for us to have the patience and the wisdom to notice them.

As he took in another breath he realized there was something else in the air too. It was a delightful scent. Cakes or maybe bread baking in an oven. Clergy's stomach growled as he felt his mouth start to water.

Food.

He threw off the covers.

Before the sheets had hit the bed he'd sat up and slid to its edge, where he saw a pair of dark boots waiting for him. As he put them on he took a moment to look around the room. It was modestly furnished. In front of him was the door, while a small wooden nightstand sat beside him with an unlit candle on top. A dresser was pressed against the opposite wall where a mirror hung just above it. Adjacent to that was a desk and chair sitting below a window. It's wood shutters let sunlight ease its way into the room, as the chatter and noise of bustling crowds flowed in after.

That sounds kind of close, Clergy thought to himself, but his stomach growled in protest. Right, right. Food first. Curiosity later.

Once his shoes were on he stood up, clutching his side as he groaned against the pain, but there was something odd against his hand. He lifted up his shirt. Someone had applied fresh bandages to his chest, though the specks of red against the white fabric told him he wasn't fully healed yet. He glanced back at the mirror. He hadn't looked at himself since he woke up in the prison.

His stomach didn't argue. Curiosity won this time.

With a less-than-graceful stride he made his way over to the mirror. He kept his head down as he approached it, until his hands were gripped onto the edge of the dresser. Was it so wrong for him to be afraid to look? What if he saw his face and remembered everything? He still didn't know why he was in the prison, not really. Just because he couldn't remember how he got there didn't mean that he was innocent. That he didn't deserve to be there. He didn't know if he could handle looking up and seeing a monster staring back at him. Or maybe he wouldn't even recognize himself. What if he was so beaten up that he just looked like a monster? His scars had felt bad before, he could barely imagine actually seeing the damage. Plus the way David had described them was—

He stopped.

David... he thought to himself. That's right... he's gone. Honestly, Clergy still couldn't believe any of this was happening. That it was happening to him. He shook the dresser as his frustration overwhelmed him. Why is this happening? At this point it was the only question that mattered to him. David hadn't known, he just knew Clergy needed to find out. And I promised him that I would, he thought to himself. I promised that I'd find Mariam. He couldn't keep running from the truth. No matter how ugly it might be if he was going to keep his promises, he'd have to face it. He took a deep breath then looked up into the mirror.

Clergy had a square face, with thin lips and a wide nose. His brown hair was a bit long and messy, unlike the shadow of a beard nestled around his jawline. He might've been pretty handsome if not for the scars.

The right side of his face had suffered the worst. A long scar went from his forehead, down his nose, to the middle of his right cheek. Another smaller scar ran beneath it, though only on that cheek. There was a bandage wrapped around his head, still blood stained on the right side. Clergy reached up to touch the wound then flinched back as he sucked his teeth. It must've been deep, he thought, or at least nicked an artery, to have kept bleeding like th— he shuddered. It was still unnerving finding these foreign ideas in his mind, but it was a step in the right direction. He kept looking.

Scratches and cuts littered the rest of his face. Even the small ones seemed red and angry, like they were demanding the same attention as his larger wounds. His right eye was deeply bruised. It paired nicely though with the rest of the bruising going all the way down to his cut lips. His left eye had some bruising too, though it wasn't as bad as his right. The few scrapes on that cheek and bruising by his mouth gave his face a morbid sense of symmetry. It almost made it a little less unnerving. Almost.

He raised his hand to his face. David wasn't kidding. He looked like shit. He leaned into his bruised reflection, staring into its somber brown eyes. A minute went by. Then two. Then three.

He let out a sigh. Still nothing. Even seeing himself wasn't enough to bring back his memories. If I can bring them back at all. He felt his spirit start to crumble as the thought took root, but he quickly shook his head. No! he thought to himself. I'm not giving up! Even if there weren't answers beneath his scars, he'd find out who did this. He had to.

And I will.

His stomach growled again.

Sunlight brightened the room; the rich scent wafted through the air; and Clergy couldn't help but laugh. I guess I'll get started right after I get something to eat.

He made his way over to the door. Wait, he thought as he gripped the handle. Should I really just walk out of here? It's not like he knew what was outside this room. Or who. He looked down at his shirt. I mean, whoever's here did treat my wounds. How bad could they really be? His mind shot back to Amos's eyes burning red from his cell. He shuddered. Ok, but someone like that wouldn't just randomly decide to treat my wounds, right? So, worse case scenario there's... a nicer Amos waiting for me? He thought about that for a moment.

Yeah, I'd better do this quietly.

Being careful not to make too much noise, he slowly opened the door to his room. Outside there was a small hallway. A few more doors lined the walls on either side except for where a staircase was a little further down on the right. Clergy sniffed the air again. The smell was coming from downstairs. He crept over to the staircase and peered down. At the bottom of it was an open door letting in some light from the other room. Clergy's stomach squirmed.

There were voices coming from the room.

Don't panic, he thought. Just take it slow. Clergy took a breath then started to head down, doing his best not to creak the wooden stairs. As he got closer he could make out the conversation.

"... so we're just supposed to keep sitting here? Until what? The guards come busting through the door?" A young man's voice said.

"That's not going to happen Mika," an older man's voice cut in.

"Yeah, maybe not today, but it will if we don't do something!" the younger voice shot back. "We have to make a move while we've still got the upper hand on the guard!"

"Assuming we still do," a surprisingly younger boy's voice said.

"Look, we can go back and forth about this as much as you two want. It's not going to change a thing." The older man's voice said. "The decision's been made. We're not doing anything until we hear back from him."

"I don't know Abel maybe they're right," a woman's voice said. "We should do something soon. If the guards get serious and start asking questions, I don't know how long I can keep the kid safe here."

"I know Stella," the older man said. "But you all saw his injuries. I shouldn't have to tell you how serious they are. Without him we've got no new leads, and even with the treatment I gave him I doubt he'll be up and moving any time—"

"Abel," the youngest voice said, as a young man nodded toward the doorway where Clergy was. The room fell silent.

This isn't awkward, Clergy thought to himself. Let's just... try to be friendly. "Hi," he said, doing his best to smile, until a jolt of pain made him stumble into the door frame.

"Whoa, easy now," the older man said as he ran up to catch Clergy. He had a square face, slender nose, and pale blue eyes. His hair and beard were short and unkempt, showing more gray than their natural brown. Despite that though he had an almost deceitful spring in his step that made it hard to tell if he was a young man who looked too old or an old man who looked too young. He had an off-white tunic as well, with long sleeves underneath a dark grey vest. After he caught Clergy, the man helped him over into a chair closer to the table.

The other three people were just about what Clergy had expected. Two younger men and a woman. They were idling around in what looked like a bakery's kitchen. There was a large wooden table in the middle of the room covered with dough stains, bowls, and various utensils. A large stone oven was glowing as shaped piles of dough basked in its ember's heat. Along the sides of the other walls were at least a dozen shelves. Some held baskets and empty trays organized in neat piles, while others had jars filled with various jams and powders. The backdoor was in the far left corner, while a pair of café doors on the opposite side led to the front of the shop.

Once the older man got Clergy into the chair he quickly went to work, leaning in to get a better look at his wounds.

"Mika, go get some water," he said as he rolled up his sleeves.

One of the younger men obeyed and started heading toward the back door. He had a square, clean shaven face with smooth features. His long dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, giving the sharp wit in his hazel eyes enough room to shine through. He was wearing a simple white tunic with laces by his chest. The strings were loose though, and showed a bit more skin than a modest man might've liked. He had on a pair of dark trousers that fit his form well with a matching pair of boots.

"How are you feeling?" The older man said, turning Clergy's head as he looked over his wounds. "Does anything hurt? Are you having any dizzy spells? Nausea? Trouble hearing or speaking?"

"No, I'm... I'm fine," Clergy said before finally managing to get the man's hands off his face. "I really just want to know what's going on."

"Right, of course," The older man said. "This has all got to be a little overwhelming for you." He stood back up and gave Clergy some space.

"Let me introduce myself. I'm Abel, the one who just left is Mika, and these two are Stella and Ezra," he said pointing over at them. "But I'm getting ahead of myself." He turned back toward Clergy. "What's your name?"

Here we go again, Clergy thought to himself. "Well, it's a little—"

"You're bleeding through your bandages," Abel said suddenly. "I'm sorry I'll go get some fresh ones. It'll only take a moment." After that Abel got up and went over to one of the shelves, rummaging through the jars and trays and leaving Clergy with the other two in the room.

Stella was young, maybe somewhere in her 20s, with thin lips and bright brown eyes. Short waves crowned her round face like the rapids of dark brown streams, smooth yet coyly unkempt. She was covered in dough stains. The ones her leather apron didn't catch marred the deep blue of her pants, the off-white of her shirt, and the dark brown of her boots. To be fair though the apron was kind of odd. The leather was thick, and the burn marks and scratches it had seemed a little... intense for a bakery; but then again what did he know.

There were callouses on her hands, scratches on her fingers, and a ring she was twisting nervously. A metal band with lines of clear and purple gems weaving around each other. She'd been standing beside the wooden table, smiling while she gave a slight wave. Well, at least she was trying to smile. What came out was more of an 'I'm doing my best not to freak out' face, but Clergy still appreciated the effort.

Ezra, on the other hand, looked completely unfazed. He was sitting in a chair in front of the table. There was a black bow resting on his lap, and he was twisting what Clergy assumed was a bow string in between his fingers. His face was cold and rigid. Almost too rigid really. Like he'd forgotten how to smile a long time ago. Even more off putting was the juxtaposition between his serious expression and his youthful features. He couldn't have been older than sixteen. The softness around his nose and cheeks accented his immaturity. He had full dark hair that he combed back in the middle but cut short along the sides and behind his neck.

His clothes were about as friendly as his face. He was draped in a dark cowl, with leather plates adorning his plain grey and blue garb. The matching leather gloves he wore had all their fingertips cut off except for the three middle fingers on his right hand.

Grim and uninviting, until Clergy looked back at his face. At his eyes.

They were a deep, glorious blue that cast his stoic look with such intensity that Clergy couldn't help but stare. They might have held his gaze forever if it wasn't pulled to a thin scar cutting one of Ezra's eyebrows in two.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Well, that and the death stare he kept giving Clergy.

He's... he's not just gonna keep staring like that right? Clergy thought to himself. He would've asked that out loud, but Abel was still busy looking through the shelves, and Stella seemed stuck in her nervous smile and wave. Clergy could feel himself start to squirm. Come on, at least blink or something. Ezra didn't blink. He didn't even breathe. Clergy squirmed again. Should I say something or—

"The oven Stella," Ezra said suddenly, casually turning his gaze away from Clergy.

Stella perked up, like she'd just remembered where she was. "Ah!" she said, "Can't let those burn!" While she raced off to the oven and Ezra went back to his bow string, Abel cleared his throat, returning with a fresh roll of bandages.

He knelt down and looked Clergy in his eyes. "I'm going to take a closer look at your wounds," he said firmly, pausing as if to let the words harden in Clergy's mind. "But I know you're overwhelmed, so we can do that later," he said in a lighter tone. "For now, I'll settle for making sure you don't bleed through your shirt. Alright?"

Clergy nodded.

"Good. Now, lift up your arms."

Clergy obeyed and Abel went to work wrapping the fresh bandages around the ones on Clergy's head and chest. His hands were steady and efficient, moving with the subtle certainty only years of experience could provide. As Abel worked, Clergy noticed a tattoo on the inside of his forearm. It was a bird skull set in front of what looked like a dark sun, that was encircled by a snake chasing its tail. Abel seemed to notice Clergy's gaze on it though and quickly pulled down his sleeve, before returning to Clergy's bandages.

"Now, like I was saying before, all of us are part of a group that... well essentially we—"

"Are just a heroic bunch of misfits who go around saving damsels in distress like yourself," Mika said as he strode back into the room placing the bucket of water on the table. "Should I go get a cup too Abel?"

"No, I'm done here," Abel said, as he finished wrapping Clergy's head. "I can get it, just put these on the table for me." He tossed Mika the roll. That was fast, Clergy thought as he touched his head. Abel glanced at his work before giving a satisfied nod and walking over to another shelf.

Mika strode over to the table next to Ezra.

"You don't want to help out Ezra?" he asked.

"Abel's not a damsel," Ezra said, still not looking up from his bow string. "And even if he was, you're the only distress damsels need to worry about."

For a moment Mika frowned and dropped his swagger, but he quickly found his rhythm again.

"My dear little Ezra," he said as he sat down on the table and put a hand on Ezra's shoulder. "I suppose you wouldn't really understand how a woman's mind works yet."

Ezra still didn't look up. "I think screams are a pretty universal sign of distress."

"Only if you can't tell the difference between a woman's screams and her moans."

"I didn't realize woman usually moan 'get off me creep.'"

Mika lost his rhythm again. "You always want to start a fight when someone's here to protect you," he said nodding towards Stella and Abel.

Ezra looked him in the eye. "And you always want to say something stupid when they're here to protect you."

The two of them glared at each other.

"No fighting," Abel said flatly, coming around from behind and smacking them both on the back of the head. He'd managed to find the cup though, so while Ezra got a bare-handed slap Mika was just bludgeoned by the cup. Even Clergy flinched at that.

"What the hell Abel!" Mika said, rubbing his head. "Why'd you only hit me with the cup?"

"Because you interrupted me just to start a pointless fight," Abel said, as he went over to fill the cup. "And you're sitting to my right."

"And they're distracting me," Stella shouted from across the room.

"And you're distracting Stella," Abel said.

Stella finished up with the oven and started walking back over. "Y'know, it amazes me that you still haven't learned how to get through a conversation without getting hit."

"Yeah, I'm starting to think that's not one of my special skills," Mika said with a laugh.

"You'd be fine if you just learned what gets on people's nerves."

Mika scoffed. "Name one thing I've done."

"Well for one—" She smacked the back of his head.

"Ow!"

"You're sitting on my table."

"Alright, I got it," Mika said, jumping down before going to pull up a chair. "Maybe next time we can all just use our words."

Stella laughed as she snatched a basket off the wall and walked over to the oven again. Ezra went back to his bow.

Abel cleared his throat. "Anyways," he said, walking back over to Clergy and handing him the water. "The four of us, well Nitara and Alvon make six and—"

He paused.

"Well... it doesn't matter. The point is, all of us are just trying to help people get out of tough situations." The warmth in his eyes suddenly grew distant. Almost regretful. "Situations like yours."

Clergy perked up. "Tell me what happened."The force in his voice surprised him but he didn't let it show. He needed this. "What was that prison? Why was I there? Why did they try to kill everyone? Why—"

Abel raised his hand. "I know you want answers," he said, "but it's not that simple. The truth is—"

Just then the back door burst open. Everyone turned their gaze as a hooded figure strode into the kitchen. The room fell silent. Clergy looked on with stunned eyes as the sudden intruder drew closer. He knew who this was. Their slender form, ram's mask, and dark clothes were unmistakable. This was the guy from the prison. The one who had taken down all those guards along the wall. He could feel his lips stammering as the man drew closer. What was he supposed to say? Thanks for killing all those guards? That was really cool to watch?

"You're..." Clergy began, the words slipping out his mouth.

The man took off his mask.

"... A woman..."

She had tan skin and dark brown eyes. Her full lips and slender nose filled in the soft edges of her face well. As she stepped forward she pulled back her hood, revealing her auburn hair flowing down just past her face. He could see there were streaks of lighter brown in her hair too, as if light had kissed just a few strands on her head.

As those last words left Clergy's mouth she paused and gave him a look of such subtle and refined contempt that he knew, to her, they were just a drop in a tempest.

"So you're awake," she said, as she eyed him for a moment. The room stayed silent. Clergy still couldn't find his words.

He cleared his throat.

"Yeah... I guess," was all he could manage to say.

Abel started to walk over to her. "Nitara, hold on—" he began, but in an instant she strode across the room, grabbed Clergy by his neck, and slammed him into the wall by the stairs.

"Then you can tell me what you know about the Councilor," Nitara said, her expression still unwavering.

"Nitara!" Abel said, racing over and grabbing her shoulder. "He's injured enough as it is! Anymore and you'll kill him!"

Clergy struggled to get out of her grip but she was strong. Very strong. He squirmed and kicked but all it did was waste his breath and send his injuries screaming. His chest dampened with heat and blood. He grit his teeth.

"Then he'd better speak up," Nitara said, "Or we'll see if he can dodge death twice."

"We're not killers Nitara!" Abel shot back. "And this isn't the way to get answers!"

Nitara glared back at Abel. "That's exactly what we are," she said flatly. "And I didn't kill all those guards so you could coddle a stranger. I did it to get Councilor Lund back." She paused. "But we all know how that went." Then she tightened her grip. "So this little shit," she said as she glared back up at Clergy. "Is going to tell me everything he knows. Right. Now."

Everything I know? What's she talking about?! Clergy thought to himself. Can someone get her off of— he stopped. Ezra, Mika, and Stella were all just waiting there. Watching. Even Abel for all his talk still hadn't done more than put his hand on her shoulder. Clergy sucked his teeth.

"I don't know... what any of you... are talking about!" he said with the few breaths he managed to pull in.

Nitara lifted him higher. "You don't know?" she said. "You don't know but you were crying over his fucking corpse?" Her grip tensed like iron. "Try harder this time."

Clergy's head started to spin. "I... can't...."

"Then I guess this is your last chance," Nitara said. "Councilor David Lund. Tell me what you know."

Clergy perked up at that. "Da—vid?" he said, but as soon as the word came out the world started to blur.

"That's enough!" Abel shouted, grabbing Nitara's wrist. "I won't let you kill him!"

Nitara eyed Abel for a moment, then let Clergy go. He fell to the ground hard before coughing and gasping for air. Abel filled up the cup and tried to hand it to Clergy again but he swatted it away, knocking it and a bowl of flour off a nearby shelf onto the ground.

"Tell me... what's going on..." Clergy said, his voice still filled with pain. "How do you know David?"

Nitara looked down at him. "So you do know something," she said. "That's certainly a start." Her eyes stayed fixed on Clergy. "What's his name Ezra?" she said as she folded her arms.

"He didn't say," Ezra said, still unfazed.

"Well, why don't you start from there," she said. "And we'll work our way to how you knew the Councilor."

Clergy didn't have the breath for the full explanation, or the patience for that matter. Just go with what you know, he thought to himself. It's not like you have a better answer.

"It's... Clergy," he said rubbing his throat.

Nitara shot Abel a trying look as he sighed and kneeled down to Clergy's eye level.

"I know that was sudden," he said, his gaze jumping between Clergy and his now blood-spattered shirt. "And I don't blame you for not trusting us after that, but lying's not going to make this any easier. I promise you we're on the same side."

Clergy glared up at him. My throat disagrees, he thought to himself but stopped short of saying it out loud. I can't fight my way out of this, so I might as well play along and see what they can tell me.

"I'm not lying," he said to Abel and the room. "I only met David when I was there. Like I said, I don't know anything."

Abel stared at Clergy. "Alright," he said after a moment.

Nitara let out a laugh before shaking her head and storming up the stairs.

"Go with her Stella," Abel said as Nitara left. "Her ankle is still in bad shape. Make sure she doesn't ruin her brace again."

Stella nodded and dashed up the stairs after her.

Mika walked over and grabbed a broom off the wall. He looked toward Ezra. "Gimme a hand?"

Ezra obeyed, quickly fixing the bow string onto its frame before setting it down gently and dashing over to pick up the bowl. He set it back on the shelf then returned to his seat and bow just as Micah started sweeping the flour toward the backdoor.

Abel cleared his throat. "I'm sorry Clergy," he said. "She's under a lot of pressure right now. All of us are. But, I'll answer your question as best I can. If you'll hear me out."

Clergy took a breath then nodded.

"Good," Abel said. "To start, you've been asleep for a couple days. We honestly weren't sure if you were going to wake up." Disbelief still marred his tone. "Where we found you— the prison, as you called it— as far as we know that was more of a holding cell. A place where problematic people were put to keep them out of the way."

"'Problematic people'? What does that even mean?" Clergy cut in. "What was I being kept out of the way of?"

"Not what," Ezra said, "Who. Councilor Knowles—"

"Ezra!" Abel snapped, cutting him off. "We can't just—"

"Oh come on Abel! What's the point of keeping it a secret?" Mika asked from the back of the room. "He's already knee deep in this shit, even if he doesn't know it." He turned back to his chore. "I'm opening the door."

For a moment the gentle tune of bustling crowds filled the sullen room, as Mika swept dirt and flour outside. He closed the door. The room was quiet again.

Abel sighed. "Councilor Knowles," he said, "or Gad as most people call him, is the reason you and everyone you saw was in that place. He's corrupt and always has been. He peddles drugs into the poorest parts of the city, and uses the guard as his own personal enforcers to keep his competition out of business and his critics in line."

His expression hardened into a glare. "He's killed people." He clenched his fist. "Good people." His words seemed to agitate the room. Mika nearly snapped the broom in half as he clenched his teeth, and even Ezra let emotion stain his face with a glare.

"He even had his own brother killed for standing in his way," Abel said. "We can't let that kind of man roam free on the Council. That's why we've spent the last year trying to bring him down." He put a hand on Clergy's shoulder. "And that's why we need your help. Councilor Lund— David —was his biggest adversary and the last real chance we had to expose Gad's corruption—"

"Hang on," Clergy cut in. "So, when you came to the prison you were only there for him?"

Abel stayed silent.

"So... you don't know anything about why I was there."

"No, I'm sorry, but we have no idea who you are or why you were there."

Clergy sighed. Well that's just great. "Wait," he said, "but if you don't know me then why'd you take me?"

"We... we were only looking for the Councilor when we came, and we were only expecting to find him there. What we saw though was... more than that. We weren't prepared to take everyone, and without the Councilor we had to choose the next best thing. You."

"I don't understand," Clergy said.

"We saw what you did," Mika cut in, as he walked back to the table. "You tried to keep the Councilor alive. He shared his last words with you. You cried when he died. We figured you must've known each other. Maybe you were even brought there together."

"And that's the important part," Abel said. "We know Gad got him in there but we still don't know how. If we can connect him to Lund's death it'll force the King's hand. He can't ignore the possibility that a Councilor killed one of their own in cold blood. He'll have to start a legitimate investigation, and we'll finally have an official path to exposing Gad." Abel placed a hand on Clergy's shoulder. "I know it must be intimidating going against a Councilor, but anything you can tell us about what happened to Lund would be a huge help."

Clergy glanced around the room as he let the explanation sink in. "I'm sorry," he said at last. "I'd help if I could, but I don't know anything about how David got there. Honestly, I'm not even sure what a Councilor is."

Everyone, even Ezra, perked up at that.

"Are... are you not from the city?" Abel asked.

Clergy sighed. "I don't know. The truth is ever since I woke up in the prison I can't remember anything about myself."

The room stayed quiet. Abel pulled his hand away and grabbed his chin. The lines on his face deepened again as his expression danced between concern and disbelief. Mika and Ezra glanced at each other.

"Abel?" Ezra finally said, turning to face him.

"His head trauma is serious enough," Abel said, his gaze still peering down into his thoughts. "I suppose memory loss is possible, but it'd be the first time I've seen it to such a degree."

"Is it fixable?" Mika asked.

"I'm not sure," Abel said. "Memory is fickle. He could get it back in a moment or not at all."

'Or not at all.' Those words hit Clergy hard.

"The best we could try to do is let him rest and expose him to familiar environments. That could trigger his memory to come back but—"

"Then that's what we'll have to do," Nitara called from the stairs. The room turned to face her again. She'd changed her clothes. Now she had on a white tunic with green pants and brown boots.

"How's your ankle?" Abel asked as he turned toward her.

"It's fine," she said flatly. "You'll have to try to coddle me another time."

"That's not—" He paused. "Never mind. Where are you trying to take him anyways? He can't go anywhere like this," he said, motioning to Clergy's stained shirt.

Nitara walked over to the table and picked up the roll of bandages. "Here," she said, tossing Abel the roll. "Stella's waiting upstairs with the suture and a fresh shirt." She picked up the bucket and held it out toward Abel. He stood up.

"Hang on," Mika said. "You had him pinned up on the wall a minute ago, but now you want to take him out for a stroll?"

I'm glad someone said it, Clergy thought to himself.

"Don't act surprised," she said. "You're coming too."

"I am?" Mika asked.

Nitara turned to Ezra. "You don't mind hanging out here for a bit do you?"

Ezra kept working, keeping his eyes on his bow. "I'm good."

"You didn't answer my question," Abel said as he walked over and grabbed the bucket. "Where are you taking him?"

"You've been waiting to hear back right?" she asked. "He got word to me the other day. He said he wants to meet— Clergy when he's ready."

"He wants to meet today?" Mika asked, "How'd he even know Clergy woke up?"

"I'm sure he doesn't, but he said to come as soon as we could; and it looks like we can come today," she said motioning over to Clergy. Then she glanced over at him again before looking back to Micah."Make sure to grab your key before you leave too, just in case."

He met her eyes for a moment. Then he smiled. "Of course," he said, "never leave home without it."

"So, who are we going to meet exactly?" Clergy asked.

Nitara glanced down at him then turned back to Abel.

"How much did you tell him?" she asked.

"What we agreed to," Abel said.

She turned back to Clergy. "Then you know there's six of us right?"

"I think he mentioned that yeah." Clergy thought about it for a moment. "So we're going to meet Alvon?"

"Alvon." She paused. "Is busy. You'll meet him eventually."

"Then who are we meeting?"

She started heading toward the door. "Our seventh man."