Paicus’ clinic was far more humble on the inside than Maine had imagined. There were no hanging jars of potions or tinctures, no stacks of enchanted bandages, not even a bowl of healing leeches. Instead it was a dull gray room of cots and threadbare blankets. The walls were simple wood, weathered and warped with age, stuffed with cotton and cloth where the cracks were large enough to let in the weather. The only ventilation was from the rafter windows, and the sawdust was spread thick on the floor to soak up vital fluids. Overall, it didn’t seem a very cheery place to her, but someone had at least gone to the effort of brightening it up a bit; a little bouquet of fresh flowers had been placed by every bedside, and though the linens looked poor, they were all fresh and quite clean. She hoped that the Firstborn would be able to appreciate those little touches, at least once they were out of danger.

A bustling Avan woman ran by, pushing a cart overladen with supplies, feathers trailing after her. “Gangway!” she cried, making for the other end of the room. Near them, another woman, a Naga in nursing grays nearly as faded as her scales, was trying to splint the leg of thrashing Goblin, who lay with most of his head wrapped in thick gauze. He clutched the bed, writhing in agony as she struggled, breath hissing out between her fangs. A Halfling boy, barely bigger than his own pillow, sat on the next bed over, holding a stack of fresh bandages for her and watching curiously. Paicus’ meager staff were apparently so overwhelmed that many of the existing patients were being called into service. A Goblin with a cast on his leg was hobbling from bed to bed, pushing another cart with his crutches, while a young Elf girl in a long gown was trying to spoon feed a fierce looking Half-Man who had both his arms wrapped and splinted.

Fengmi pushed his own way into this chaos, looking around hurriedly for someone in charge. The woman with the cart rushed by again and he stuck out one hand, stopping her in her tracks easily. As she sagged forwards, he asked “Where’s the Firstborn leader?”

“I have no idea!” she exclaimed, picking herself up awkwardly. She looked angrily at him and the group. “What are you doing here? Why are you looking for them?”

“Marshal’s business,” he grunted, shoving past her. He started to walk from bed to bed, glancing hard at each occupant. Most were in no condition to notice his passage, but some shrank back into their beds or tried to rise from them. Fengmi ignored them, continuing on. Sheets had been hung from the rafters in the back of the clinic, sectioning off some of the beds. Behind one, Maine could see figures moving back and forth along with the mutter of voices. Fengmi saw as well, and began to march towards them

“Hold on! Now hold on!” a voice called and Vaux ran out in front of him. He held out his arms, blocking the big man and started to yell. “You’ve no grounds to arrest anyone! We’re victims here, we haven’t done anything!” Maine and Matthew pushed their way forwards till the siblings stood just behind the Marshal. Vaux jumped a bit guiltily, his glasses slipping off his pug nose. “Oh, the Maiersons! Well… We’ve not done anything, except to them,” he amended.

“Out of the way, runt,” Fengmi started to push past him, but the Goblin refused to be moved.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you,” he said bravely, raising his fists. He waited, trembling, his face scrunched up for the impending strike. Fengmi just sighed, shaking his head.

Behind Vaux, the curtains parted slightly and a small, dark-skinned man poked his head out curiously. He stepped out, holding the stub of a cigar in his hand, and said loudly, “‘Peace Ho, Peace Ho!’ as the Bard would say. This is no place for fighting! Just give them half a breath and you can talk to anyone you want - even me! That is, if you desire cultured conversation.”

He was the darkest skinned man that Maine had ever seen. At first, she thought he was a Halfling (he was so short), but on closer inspection, his ears were too small and rounded, and he wore boots, something no self-respecting Halfling would dare. He wore what looked like a very odd miss-match of what looked like stage-costumes, a fine, black tailcoat and top hat over faded-leopard skin rags, like a primitive savage at a formal dinner.

“Who are you?” she asked.

He swept off his hat and bowed elegantly to her. “Prince Biwanaboto of Lost Zalabutu tribe, deep inside the Congo,” he proclaimed, his voice smoothly switching to a exotic African accent. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Maine curtseyed back smoothly, just as Miss Imi had taught her, and he laughed. He stood back up, his voice switching back easily. “Before that, I was Bill Freeman, of Pittsburgh fame, star of stage and screen. You can just call me Bill.”

“And you work here now?” Matthew asked curiously.

“As a way of repaying the good Doctor,” he nodded. “He rescued us from an inconvenient fate, so it’s only fair that we stay for a bit and help out.”

“‘Us’?”

Behind one of the curtains in the corner of the room, a large, heavy shape moved suddenly, startling them. A huge, shaggy head pushed its way through the drapes, staring blankly out. It was a man’s head, though nearly as large as a wagon wheel, and surrounded by a shaggy mane of hair, like a lions. It pushed forwards into the room, revealing that it had more than just a lion's mane, but its body and paws as well. It gazed vacantly at the group, till its eyes fell on Bill. “Biscuit?” it asked in a deep, rumbling voice.

“Huh, a Manticore,” Fengmi grunted. Matthew and Maine however were staring wide-eyed.

“It can talk?”

“Eh, I don’t know if I call it talking,” Bill downplayed it. He wandered over to the hulking creature and without a hint of fear began to scratch under its jaw. Its eyes rolled back with pleasure and it began to shake. “Don’t let the Human face fool you, Manticore’s are about as smart as a cow, and just about as dangerous. He can recite a few words, but that’s as far as his repertoire goes. I just call him Biscuit.”

“Biscuit?” it asked again, and Bill dug in his coat pocket, pulling out a cracker. “Yeah, you know that word, alright,” he said sarcastically, but he continued to scratch vigorously at the beast, feeding him a treat. “The big lug was my only friend while we were in captivity. Once we were freed, the Imps just flew off (ungrateful buggers) but this poor wretch didn’t know what to do. He would’ve been lost on the streets by himself, I just had to take him with me.”

Biscuit nuzzled at his hand lovingly. “Biscuit!” it agreed.

Matthew snapped his fingers. “The zoo! The one the man who came in with Trimble was talking about. You were both stars there!” he exclaimed. He frowned, trying to remember. “Oh, what was his name - Tolland, Tooland?”

“That’s the villain!” Bill nodded. “Worst mistake of my life! A two week performance, I was told. A dollar a day, room and board provided, and a captive audience. Hah! They never told me I’d be the captive!” He struck a sudden, tragic pose. “A man of my talents locked behind bars, an outrage! I’ve recited Shakespeare on street corners and in bars all up and down the coast, and they treated me like I was some kind of animal!”

The clinic door opened behind him and Bill’s face brightened. “Ah, but here’s the man of the hour!” He spread his arms wide. “See, Doctor Paicus? The wheel comes full circle! I told you, you’d be rewarded for freeing us. Look at all this business you’ve got now!”

Paicus sighed wearily. “This is a free clinic, Mr Freeman, people pay what they can.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Ah, but you helped when you didn’t need to! ‘So shines a good deed in a weary world!’”

Paicus rolled his eye and nodded. He looked finally at the group, his eye finally settling on Fengmi and Dakota. “I hope you gentlemen will please remember that this is a place of healing,” he stressed to them. “Please, refrain from any violence.”

Dakota stepped forwards, nodding quickly. “We know that Doc. Don’t worry, we’re not here for the Firstborn.”

“At least not today,” Fengmi muttered, making Vaux flinch back.

“We need to talk to Marsha,” Matthew said quickly. “Is there any way we can speak with her?”

Paicus frowned, clearly disapproving, but he said, “If it’s really necessary…” He stepped behind the curtains for a moment and there was a moment’s whispered discussion. Then he pulled the curtains aside.

Behind the curtain, Marsha lay spread out on one of the beds, grimacing in pain as William and Pol bent over her stomach. William was holding a pair of long forceps in his hand, probing deep inside her wound, while Pol held a lantern over his head, watching critically. It must’ve been agony, for Marsha’s face was streaked with sweat, her lips almost white as she clenched her jaw. Celeste sat by her side throughout the operation, holding her hand. In her other hand, she held a pistol, trained in their direction.

She ignored Paicus, looking squarely at the Marshals. “Back off,” she warned them. Fengmi only snorted with laughter, looking at the gun.

“Is that silver you’re packing? Cause without it, you ain’t gonna do much good.”

He started to shift his weight, and she cocked the gun quickly, the hammer trembling in the air. Marsha turned her head and, despite the obvious pain, laughed. “She could be, lawman. I do love to give her pretty things.”

Celeste gave her hand a squeeze as she held the gun steady. “She knows I can’t resist the shine of silver.” Fengmi’s eyes narrowed and Maine held her breath, waiting for the next move.

Paicus stepped forward and deliberately put himself between the two. “Haven’t you people had enough bloodshed to satisfy you? I won’t let you bring it in here.” He looked towards William and Pol. “How are you coming there, young William? Any issues?”

“No issues, sir, thank you,” William said, looking up quickly. He frowned then, glancing at the standoff. “Can you please have them hold off until after I’m done? This is my first gunshot wound and I want to get it right.”

Pol nodded irritably. “Yes please wait your turn,” she said. She moved the lantern closer and nodded to William. “The last piece is right there, just pull it out and we’ll start to stitch her up.”

He brightened up immediately. “You’ll show me the mending needles?” he asked excitedly. “I’ve been reading about them! Which do you prefer - using Wyvern sinew or Elf hair for the thread? And what about bone stitching? What’s your opinion on–”

“Elf hair, it’s much cheaper,” she answered shortly. “And I much prefer setting the bones with Fey paste myself.” She looked up at the standoff still in progress and clucked her beak, her feathers ruffling slightly. “Well, don’t keep us in suspense!”

Slowly, Dakota placed his hand on Fengmi’s arm. “Hoss, we don’t have the time for this,” he said gently.

Fengmi stared at the two Firstborn for a moment, then nodded and stepped back. IN response, Celeste uncocked her gun and lay it in her lap, though her free hand remained close by it.

“Well, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Marsha grunted, her face slick with sweat.

Dakota started to open his mouth, but Matthew jumped in first. “Henna! What happened to Henna?” he asked fearfully. The two Firstborn looked at each in surprise.

“We went by her shop and saw your plans, we know that she was working with you,” Maine told them. “What happened to her?”

Marsha opened her mouth, but suddenly grunted in pain, almost doubling over. “Not all of our people were in the warehouse,” Celeste explained, taking over. “During the Auction, she was being kept under guard in another part of the city.”

Vaux nodded, adjusting his glasses. “You can’t be too careful with traitors after all,” he said.

“What about after the Auction?” Matthew asked impatiently.

“She should still be there,” Celeste told them. “We told them to stay put until we gave the signal. That would’ve been this morning, but…”

“Where is she then?” he asked. “Tell me!”

“Somewhere else,” Marsha grunted. Matthew stared at her helplessly, but she refused to say more. He sunk into a chair dejectedly, holding his head in his hands.

Fengmi stepped forwards, looming over Marsha’s bed. Celeste carefully placed her hand over her gun. “I assume that’s your insurance policy?” he asked in a quiet voice.

She winced and nodded. “You can call it that.”

“It doesn’t matter if the boy’s sweet on her,” he warned them, “that girl doesn’t matter a twig next to the Weapon. We need to know where it is!” Both Celeste and Marsha stared blankly at him. Vaux blinked, looking clueless. “Do you have it or not?” the Marshal thundered.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Marsha grunted.

Slowly, Dakota’s started to sink. “I don’t think they knew about it.”

“No! They’re lying!” Fengmi snapped, but his partner shook his head.

“They don’t smell like they’re lying. If they had it, they didn’t know.”

A low growl started in the back of the big man’s throat. His fingers began to twitch, the hair on his arms starting to grow in great spurts. Celeste snatched her gun up, cocking it again, but he seemed not to even notice. He loomed up over them, his teeth sharpening and turning to fangs. Before he could transform entirely however, he spun abruptly and stomped out of the clinic, the door swinging off its hinges behind him.

Dakota started to hurry after him. “Don’t worry about him!” he called back quickly. “I’ll keep him out of trouble!” He disappeared through the door, leaving the Firstborn staring in shock.

“What the hell was that about?” Marsha snapped. Celeste however was shaking her head.

“Damn shifters, can’t trust them a bit!”

Vaux peered nervously after the Marshals. “What were they talking about? What’s this Weapon?”

Matthew sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s a long story. My Grandmother had something very important hidden in the Vault, and when you robbed us, you took it with you by accident.”

Paicus fretted, “What did Madelyn do now?” Vaux however was trembling.

“Ho-Ho-Ho-How important?” he quivered.

A roar echoed from outside, sounding far off, but still shockingly loud. “Enough that the government sent them after it,” Matthew told him shortly

The Goblin almost fainted. “Well, we don’t have it now!”

“Which means Trimble does!” Marsha growled. She began to push herself up, ignoring the protests from William and Pol. “Get the troops ready!” she barked at them. “We’re taking back Gravesend! I want three dozen bashers ready to- ready to–” Her eyes started to roll up and she collapsed back into bed. Paicus hurried over and began to assist with the surgery.

“She’s fainted,” he said, looking at the other Firstborn. “She’s in no condition to go lead anyone, I’m afraid. You’ll need to decide what to do.”

Celeste seemed frozen, staring at Marsha. Vaux shook her arm. “We don’t have three dozen of anyone who can stand,” he reminded her. “What should we do?”

Maine looked at her brother. He was gazing sadly at the row of beds in the clinic, the moaning, injured Elders, still recovering from the attack. Slowly, he turned to her, and the two shared a look.

“Are they well enough to be moved?” he asked.

Paicus blinked, considering it. “Most can, if it’s done slowly and carefully by wagon. But where are you thinking of…”

“They can’t stay here,” her brother explained. “There’s too many, and who knows if Trimble’s men will come back. They need to be somewhere large, and protected.” Maine stared at her brother. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

Celeste narrowed her eye. “What do you mean?”

Matthew stood up slowly. He looked at Paicus and his staff. “Get whomever you can ready for transport. I’ll send men back to guard the rest of them and keep the clinic safe.” He pointed suddenly at Vaux, making the Goblin jump. “In the meantime, you’re going to tell me where Henna is and I’ll send men to pick her up.

Maine jumped up. “Matthew, what are you–”

“We’re taking them back to the Factory,” he said shortly.

Marsha came out of her daze. “The hell are you talking about!?” she demanded. She struggled to rise, and Celeste struggled to hold her down.

Matthew watched her, looking not all pleased with himself. “Shut up and lie still,” he told her bluntly. “You Firstborn owe me, and you can start by letting me keep you safe.”