Why did I take this?
Clergy had plenty of unanswered questions on his mind, but his thoughts gnawed on that most of all. It just seemed impossible. Of all the books he could’ve found because of some feeling, he actually picked one that was useful, and not just useful. Hidden. Clergy looked at the book swaying in Abel’s hand as they headed through the town on the way to the clinic.
The group of Micah, Abel, Clergy, and Daniel were on foot and dressed much the same. Daniel was the only one who had changed. He’d donned a dark brown cloak of his own. It covered a gray jacket and white shirt, with black pants and boots to match. He wore no glasses and everything fit this time. It was a bit of a jarring change. He was taller than he’d looked before.
Micah and Clergy were the only ones who’d chosen to wear their hoods. It was probably for the best. If everyone kept theirs on they might’ve seemed like a gang of roaming thieves. Clergy gave a half-hearted chuckle. Last time they were out walking like this Micah had said he’d looked like a ‘troubled bandit’. He glanced around at the others.
They were all troubled now.
I’m the only one who’s hallucinating, Clergy thought to himself. Honestly, he couldn’t even say that’s what this was. The next glance from a stranger might throw him into their mind, or show him some vision of smoke and screams— or save my life.
He couldn’t deny that. No matter how much he didn’t like getting caught up in these visions, they were helping him. All this weird stuff was, almost exclusively. It brought back memories of his dream, of the fire entity pulling him from the sea and saving his life. Find me when you return. He reached up and tapped his eye patch before looking back at the book. Could this really all be connected? Who would even know something like that? Saadya might, he thought, at least that’s what the group seemed to think. She was a stranger though, and after what they’d done to Dekar would she even help them?
She isn’t the only one who might know, Clergy thought to himself, but it made his stomach squirm with nerves.
There was the arbiter looming in the shadows, hunting for Clergy, and apparently getting closer by the day. One was already in the city. The next one would be by his bed.
Then, there were the people who had held him before. That prison, or fort, or whatever it was must have some clue. If all this weird shit wasn’t connected to why he was kept there, what else could be? Guess I’ll find out soon enough.
“We couldn’t have kept the wagon for a little longer?” Micah called out as the breeze whipped up the edges of his own cloak.
“Not a chance,” Daniel said back. “We’re lucky we had it for as long as we did. Rona stuck their neck out for us with the other Hall clerks. All for Nitara’s sake.”
“That was good of them,” Abel said. “It’s too bad there aren’t more people in the Hall like them.”
“They all work in the clinic,” Daniel said, “or at least that’s what Leah says.”
“Just to be clear,” Micah said, “is this an interrogation? I mean I know what we saw but come on! It’s Leah! Hasn’t she been through enough?”
No one spoke.
“We really don’t have a choice,” Daniel said at last, but his answer too waded into silence. He sighed. “But I’m just one opinion,” he said. “How’s everyone else feeling?”
Clergy cringed. That was hard to hear.
“We’re not accusing anyone of anything,” Abel said, “just asking questions. We don’t even know if this means anything yet. It could be a mistake.”
“It’s weird at least,” Daniel said. “I think it’s fair to say it’s worth asking a few questions.”
Micah stopped in the street. “Are you really not even going to apologize?”
Daniel stopped and turned toward him. “Apologize for what?”
Micah scowled. “Alvon.”
They glared at each other. The crowd passed around them the way a river passes a rock. None of them could feel the tension. None of them knew what this trip had cost.
“Whatever,” Micah said at last. “Let’s just get this done.” He nodded at Clergy then motioned ahead. “That’s the clinic up there.”
It was an unassuming building but crowded to say the least. The outside was a medley of mortar, wood, and stone, with the look of an aging storehouse. Its roof had two peaks, while a farmhouse door loomed open in between them. It was a hectic scene. Crowds veered and corralled by the entrance. Attendants were stationed at the front, keeping some of the masses back, telling others where to go, and handing out bread to those waiting to be helped. The line spilled out the main door and hugged the wall to the right.
They stopped before the crowd.
“Busy as always,” Abel said, as he placed his free hand on his hip.
“We probably didn’t help with that,” Micah said, “that riot must’ve gotten a few people hurt.”
“It was more than a few,” Daniel said. “But we’ll see for ourselves when we get in there.” He walked past the group and headed for the front door.
As Daniel got closer, it was clear he was destined to face one of three attendants they had at the door.
She had dirty blonde hair that flowed just beyond the edges of her oval face. Her eyes were a bright green that shined off her visage like gems in the sun. Her blouse was a warm beige, with a green dress and worn brown boots. She was laughing with some people, and sternly warning others, but her smile left them all looking airy and filled with glee. A beacon of sunshine nestled within the soft edges of her face. Oh… Clergy thought, and reflexively straightened up.
Daniel had reached her now.
“One at a time!” She shouted as she waved at the crowd. “We’ll get to all of you! There’s enough for everyone!” She noticed Daniel and stepped in front of him. “Hey!” She said. “There’s a line for a reason!”
Daniel held up his hands. “Oh, we’re not here for the services. I’m actually—”
“An aide right? You work for…” she peered up into her thoughts. “Gray! You work for Avram Gray right?
Daniel actually smiled at that. “I’m impressed,” he said. “You must see a hundred people a day.”
She scoffed and waved her hand. “Oh it’s more than that, but yes, I am pretty proud of my memory.” She held her hand under her chin as she beamed. “Of course I remember you though, you used to come all the time. You were one of the ones who got the Council to start donating supplies.”
Is he blushing? Clergy thought.
“I really played a small role,” Daniel said. “But I’m glad you got what you needed.”
She perked up at the rest of the group as they approached. “Oh, Abel! And Micah too! You’re back so soon. Was that guy a friend of yours?”
“No, we were just… helping out then,” Abel said. “We’ve got some other business to handle now, Hannah,” Abel said.
“I hope that business includes a little volunteering. We could always use trained help.”
That got Abel to chuckle. “Not today, he said. “But we’ll be back again soon. Can’t keep us away for long. You do too much good here.”
Hannah smiled at that.
“We were actually hoping to talk to Leah. Is she here?”
Hannah nodded behind her. “Oh she’s in this mess somewhere. You can head on in.”
Abel nodded. “Thanks Hannah.” He started to walk away.
“But Abel,” she said. He turned back around. “Go easy on her. She puts on a good face but… it’s been hard for her. For everyone.”
Abel nodded again and all of them began to head inside. As the group strode past she eyed Clergy and gave him a curious look. I guess that’s the best I could hope for with scars like these. A new patron caught her attention though, and she eased back into conversation with the crowd.
The inside was a mess, but it was a chaotic little dance that overall seemed to be helping. They walked into a long hallway bustling with the business of the day. Several rooms connected to it, and people were flocking to and fro. Chairs lined the walls all the way up and were filled with people hosting a variety of splints, bandages, and molds around their limbs. Those were interesting. A beige and almost violet covering that seemed plastered over bandage wraps.
Casts, Clergy thought suddenly. Molds made of various materials with natural healing properties to aid in bone damage recove— he shook his head.
That still feels weird, Clergy thought to himself, but it was a good sign. Maybe something here would bring his memories back. Maybe, Clergy thought, but as he looked around the room something else gnawed at him. ‘It was more than a few’. That’s what Daniel had said, and seeing all the injuries, the pain, the anger, he was starting to get a bad feeling.
The four of them squeezed through the hectic scene, but as Clergy went he noticed the others staring at a small book on a podium. It looked exactly like the one in Abel’s hand. The log book, Clergy thought to himself. Then Leah really did make a duplicate. Why would she do that?
They reached the end of the hall and arrived at a wide open space.
There were beds placed all around the edge of the large, rectangular room. Huge windows hung in the spaces between bunks. Their wooden shutters were cracked open slightly to let sunshine and fresh air trickle into the room.
Timber rafters dominated the ceiling’s look. They came in rows of triangular supports across the room, holding their lumber canopy over the bustling scene. Each bed was full, and clearly there were people in pain. Staff were darting between patients, weaving through food carts, doctors, and bystanders worrying in their way.
Clergy couldn’t help but notice the dark skin and bronze jewelry of many of the patients there. They were dressed like the others from the part of town closer to the Inner Wall. No one had told him yet, but thinking on it now he had a pretty good idea who they were.
He went over and nudged Micah‘s shoulder. “They’re Amarians, aren’t they?” He asked, nodding over at some of the beds.
Bitterness oozed off the scowl on Micah’s face. He’d taken his hood off indoors, revealing his haphazard haircut. Clergy did his best not to stare. He still wasn’t used to it.
“Yeah, and I’d bet most of them came from the riot,” he said. “I knew that was too reckless.”
“Yes it was,” Abel said, coming up behind them. “But we’re never going to be forced into a situation like that again.”
If Daniel overheard them, he didn’t let it show. “There she is,” he said suddenly, then he motioned up ahead.
Leah was slightly taller than average, with cream skin and piercing hazel eyes. Her dark hair would’ve gone down to just below her shoulders if she hadn’t tied it back in a loose ponytail. She wore a white blouse with a modest brown trim under a grey robe. The coat was clearly worn. Deep stains and burns showed it had been through more than most people, but Clergy could tell by its look that it’d last 100 years more. Beneath that she wore dark pants tucked into simplistic leather boots. Around her waist was some kind of belt that hugged her form and had several square pouches sewn onto it. She was sitting with an Amarian girl, wrapping a bandage around her head with dexterous speed and efficiency. There were wraps around some of her fingers too. Clergy didn’t know why that caught his eye.
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“Annnd we’re done,” she said to the girl, caressing her chin with her hand. “That wasn’t so bad was it?”
The little girl smiled and shook her head. Leah beamed. “You’re a brave girl.” She held up her hand and high fived the girl before nodding over to another woman nearby. “Make sure her family gets two extra loafs of bread. I won’t have her going hungry while she recovers.”
The woman nodded and raced out of the room.
“We’re gonna need more gauze!” Leah called out, as she started walking to another patient. “And someone check up on that Klair and Son’s delivery, we’ll be out of bread soon!”
“On it!” A few staffers shouted, and the room’s bustle was renewed.
Abel stepped up to her first. “Work never stops for you, does it?”
Leah turned towards him. “Abel!” She said, though for a moment her smile faltered. She quickly found it again though. “Why’re you back so soon?” She asked. “Nothing’s really changed. He’s got a fever, but we stitched up that guard as best we could. Now, we’re just waiting to see if he’ll wake up.”
Abel looked solemn as he took in the news. “What do you think his chances are?
Leah sighed. “Honestly, it could probably go either way. We’ll know more if he survives the night.”
Clergy glanced over at Micah. How must he feel about this?
“Do you know if he has any family?” Micah asked.
“No. Sorry. It’s too soon to know anything like that. The guard still has to get back to us.”
“I see,” Micah said.
Leah gave him a compassionate look. “I know waiting isn’t easy,” she said, “if nothing else, last I saw Traveler Roe was with him, but you know how he is. He’ll have sat with everybody by the time the day is done.”
Micah gave a half-hearted smile that clearly left Leah unsatisfied.
She gently grabbed his arm. “You came quickly, and did well to slow down the bleeding. If he survives it’ll probably be because of you.”
Micah said nothing to that.
Abel cleared his throat. “We’re actually here about something else.”
“I hope it’s to help out,” Leah said. “We could use the extra hands.” The rest of the group stepped up. “Especially if you brought the whole crew.” She smiled at the rest of them and the group returned the gesture in kind. Then she got to Clergy.
“He’s new,” she said as she gave him an odd look. “And hurt.” She stepped up to him and started inspecting his face. “Why didn’t you bring him sooner? What even happened?”
Clergy did his best not to squirm as she turned his head. Do I need a hands-off sign or something?
“He’s new, works with us now and again. He just—“ Abel paused, “had an accident. He fell. Real nasty but he’s recovering.”
Clergy glanced over at him. Why is that always the go to?
She frowned as she lifted Clergy’s eye patch and peeked underneath. “Let me at least give him some ointment for his eye. It will help the bruising go down faster.”
That was nice, Clergy thought. Then she finally let go of his face. But that was annoying. He brushed the thought away. Don’t be petty, just smile.
Leah looked over at Micah and frowned. “And for you too, Micah.” She sucked her teeth as she inspected his eye. “You have to be more careful.”
“We will,” Micah said, gently brushing her off.
I should’ve probably done that, Clergy thought.
“Fine!” She said with a playful bite. Then her smile started to fade as she looked back at Clergy. “Well, you can at least tell me this.” She looked toward Abel. “You said he works with you sometimes?”
Abel nodded. “That’s right.”
“Does that mean at Stella’s or—”
“Not Stella’s,” Abel said. “That’s actually why we’re here.”
Leah nodded. “Ok,” she said. Then she looked around the room. “Hey!” She called out to a man standing nearby. He quickly came over. “Help them,” she said, pointing over to the bed she was just heading for. “I’ll be right back.”
The man nodded and started heading over to the bunk. Leah motioned toward the far end of the room, where much less people were. “We can talk over there.”
The five of them started heading over. So, she knows about what they do? Clergy thought. He mulled over the other’s words from before. ‘Hasn’t she been through enough?’ ‘It’s been hard for her.’ He glanced at her back. Maybe she’s someone like me.
Eventually, they reached the end of the room, and Leah stopped then turned to face them. Clergy almost gawked. All at once her demeanor changed. The kind, confident woman of a moment ago fell away, revealing an anger and a loss that marred her once sanguine glow. “Tell me you have news.”
Abel groaned. “I’m sorry, we—”
“No,” she snapped. “I don’t want to hear you’re sorry! Everyone’s said they’re sorry! I want to know if you found the people who murdered David!”
David?! Clergy thought. How does she know him?
“Leah,” Abel said, his tone plagued with regret. “You know we’re doing everything we can to find them.”
Leah scoffed. “So that’s a no?”
“That’s, ‘we’re working on it,’” Daniel cut in. “We—” he paused, “they were just risking their lives to find proof—”
“But they didn’t,” Leah said. “That’s what you’re saying. My brother is dead and you have no idea who’s responsible!”
She’s— Clergy thought. He never mentioned her…
“That’s not fair,” Daniel said, but those words proved to be his last.
“Not fair?!” Leah spat. “What part of any of this is fair?!” She stepped in as her scowl deepened. “Is it my brother being dead? The guard not even caring? I can’t even have a funeral because the news would make things worse! The others just think he’s missing! I-I can’t even say goodbye!”
Abel tried to step in. “You know where he’s buried.”
“That’s not the point!” Leah snapped. “You give me the worst news of my life, and I can’t even grieve! I have to deal with this alone!”
“Leah!” Micah said. He brought his hand to her shoulder. “You’re not alone.”
Leah stared at him for a moment, glossy eyed and panting. Then she took a deep breath, and the kind, confident woman from before reemerged. “Fine,” she said. “If you’re not here because of David then why did you come?”
“Well,” Abel said. “We wanted to ask you about this.” He held up the log book from the archives.
Leah looked at it for a moment. “It’s a log book,” she said at last. “What, did you take this from the front?”
“No,” Abel said. “Just look through it.” He held it out to her. “Tell me what you think.”
She gave Abel an odd look but did as she was told. “Yeah, it’s a log book,” she said. “What’s this about anyway?”
“Skip to the end,” Abel said.
Leah flipped through the remaining pages until she found the last one with writing. The one where the guards’ names had been crossed out. She stayed stoic as she peered at the page. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
The group remained quiet. Oh shit, Clergy thought, is this a confession?
She handed it back to Abel. “It’s a log book, like I said. It’s in my handwriting and everything.”
Abel eyed her for a moment as everyone else did the same.
She raised a brow as she motioned the book to him again. “Anyone gonna take this?”
“What about those last entries?” Micah finally said. “The ones that are crossed out. What can you tell us about them?”
Leah sighed then took the book back, looking over the text. “I started writing down their names. They asked me not to, and I don’t need anymore trouble with the guard.” She closed the book and met Abel’s gaze. “What’s this got to do with David?”
“We found that in the garrison archive,” Abel said. “We’re looking for those guards you treated. They have information that might help us find the people who took him.” He nodded over to the book in her hands. “Before you crossed it out you wrote that you took a violent incident report. What did they tell you, and why did you put this in the archive of all places?”
“They didn’t tell me anything. As soon as I wrote those words they told me to stop. After that I just crossed it out.”
That seems believable, Clergy thought to himself, but did the rest of the group agree?
“That’s it?” Daniel asked. “They had no explanation for their injuries? Left no clue as to where they were headed?”
“None,” Leah said. Then she rolled her eyes and leaned in. “Look they were clearly skittish alright? Was that weird? Yes. Was it worth a month of harassment? No. This place can’t deal with that kind of trouble again. You of all people should know that.”
Abel groaned, but Daniel pressed ahead. “Why was it in the archive then? Why move it and start a new log?”
She looked at him for a moment. Then back to the book. “That’s really where you found it?”
Abel perked up at that. “You didn’t know it was there?”
“No,” she said. “I knew the log book was changed, but I just figured someone wanted to clean up the book.”
“Why would they bother doing that?”
Leah sighed. “When the guards want to give us trouble, that's the first place they look. Any discrepancies and our Council funding gets cut. We can’t afford that right now. We’re busier than we’ve ever been.”
The group mulled over her words. She seems genuine, Clergy thought, and if she’s really David’s sister, why would she lie about this?
“You know it’s really suspicious to have quiet meetings in the back,” a girl’s voice said from behind. “Especially when the room’s overfilled and the line’s out the door.” The group turned to face it.
“You don’t exactly look busy over here.”
The voice belonged to a girl, maybe 18 or 19, with radiant tan skin and piercing brown eyes. Her hair was cut short on the sides, while long locks were tied back loosely into a bun. A bronze ring gleamed from her wide nose, and crowned her full lips. She wore an arbor green vest over a beige tunic, with a red bandana around her neck. Beneath that were frayed brown pants and well-worn boots. She crossed her arms. “Don’t everybody jump to explain.”
Her brows were thick, and raised with confidence and contempt. Clergy might’ve squirmed if he was standing by himself. He still wanted to.
“Naki,” Leah said. “I already told you there’s nothing more you can do besides—”
“‘Help hand out bread to the line’,” Naki said. “Yeah I got that. Problem is it seems like there’s something else I could be doing.” She turned toward the others. “I know who you are.”
“And I know you,” Daniel said. “You work with Saadya. I’ve heard your name before.”
“Then you know my problem with you.”
Daniel gave her a curious look. “Not really, no.”
She scoffed. “Your little ‘riot’ got over a dozen people hurt. Beaten by the guard, and most of them, of course, were Amarian.” She looked at Abel, glared, then stepped in close. “I’m not even gonna begin to deal with you,” she said with disgust. “Dekar wanted the first word. I’m looking forward to watching.”
Guilt tugged at the edges of Abel’s face, but he kept his composure. “I did what I had to do—”
“We didn’t want anyone to get hurt!” Clergy suddenly blurted out. He didn’t know why he’d gone and said that, but he’d been gnawing on it the whole time. If it wasn't for me, the riot wouldn’t have happened, and no one would’ve gotten hurt. He didn’t want any of this, least of all for his sake.
Naki cocked her head and gave him a dry look.
Oh shit.
She started to come over. “You didn’t want anyone to get hurt?” She asked wryly. “That’s funny. Cause I bet you never even thought about them until the moment you stepped in here.” She stopped just a pace away from Clergy, and looked him dead in his eyes.
Clergy looked away.
“You’re a squirmer. I can tell,” she said. “You feel bad cause they’re in your face now, but put them a few streets away, and suddenly you don’t mind what you can’t see.” She cocked her head to meet his gaze again. “That’s not caring. That’s cowardice, and you don’t need to put a show on for that.”
Clergy grimaced then looked away again. Guilt was eating him up inside. How could he face her? Face any of these people? Look at what he had caused. There’s no way he could ever make this right— But I’d rather try, he thought to himself. Even if I’m scared I’d rather try. I won’t walk away from this.
“You’re wrong about me,” Clergy said suddenly. He looked up and matched Naki’s glare. “What happened to these people? It matters, and someone’s gotta take responsibility.” He looked down at his hand, then met Naki’s gaze again. “Someone’s gotta do something to help.” It’s the least I can do, since I caused all this.
Naki looked him over for a moment. Then she scoffed. “You don’t know how to help. You don’t even know how to ask.” She paused on that for a moment. “But I think you actually mean that.” She scoffed again. “I don’t know why.” Then she shook her head. “And in fact,” she said, “there is something you can do. To help.”
“Now hold on,” Abel said. “We’re not doing indiscriminate favors. Taking responsibility doesn’t mean doing whatever you say.”
“Doesn’t it?” Micah asked.
“Now how is that helpful?”
“I can be helpful,” Daniel said. “We’re going to talk to Saadya anyway, so we can ask her all about this together. After we get there—”
“I’ll do it,” Clergy said.
The group ogled at him.
“You don’t even know what you’re agreeing to,” Daniel said.
“Doesn’t matter. I made a mistake and I need to own up to that. If things go bad I’ll… I’ll take care of myself.” I already did it once. Twice is hardly pushing my luck.
Right?
Now, Naki’s scoff turned into a laugh. “You heard him,” she said. “He’s taking responsibility.” She nodded away. “Let’s go for a walk.”