Marsa had held on tight to the soldier’s arm as Orfen ran. “Let go!” The man barked at her, but she held on anyway.
“I will not abide violence against children in a Temple of Vasara!”
“It is a beast and a thief!”
“Some thief! He had not a thing worth stealing on him!”
The soldier finally managed to wrench himself free, pushing Marsa away. “It has fled. It can not claim sanctuary out there.” He turned sharply and marched away. After catching her breath, Marsa followed.
Orfen was clearly faster than the two of them, by the time they were outside the temple the werecat was nowhere to be seen. The soldier cursed under his breath, jogging out into the main road, stopping people to ask them questions. Marsa waited until she could no longer see him to start her own search. Please, Vasara, let me find him first.
*
Marisol breathed slow and steady through her mouth to keep from retching. She could hardly stand just the sight or smell of blood but now she had it seeping through her fingers as she tried to press it back into Orfen’s body. Orfen laid half in her lap, pale and still as death. “Racqein!” she whisper-yelled over her shoulder.
Racqein stood at the mouth of the alley, his back against a wall as he looked out cautiously into the main road. His hand curled against the wood at his back, his nails digging grooves into it. “They are still looking for us. If we move it has to be deliberate and quick.” He slunk along the wall back towards Marisol and crouched down next to her.
“Can you carry him?” she asked.
Racqein grimaced, “not easily. We’d be slow and obvious... Do you have any clean clothes in your bag to wrap his wound with?”
“I didn’t know we were running so-”
“Your bag is back at the inn.” Racqein finished for her with a sigh. A little help would be appreciated, Racqein snarked at the man that had gotten them into this mess in the first place but Cruxion was completely silent.
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Marisol interrupted his attempts to communicate with Cruxion, “what about your MorningSun blood? Can’t you heal him?”
Racqein looked up from glaring at the dirt. “Medicinal blood won’t close a wound.”
“Can’t you at least try?” Desperation and fear made her voice climb higher and louder.
Racqein shushed her, “it won’t help.”
“Oh!”
At the sound of a shocked voice above them, Racqein jumped to his feet and brandished Cruxion’s sword at the stranger, hoping they couldn’t tell that he did not know what he was doing.
The older woman wearing white and blue priestess robes raised her hands, “I won’t hurt you.” Her eyes flicked down to Orfen on the ground and Racqein slid to the side to block him from view.
She looked back up at Racqein’s face and raised her eyebrows beseechingly, “Orfen is already my patient, I’d rather not watch him bleed out this close to my temple.”
*
After nearly an hour of searching, Marsa took notice of a strange sight in an alley, surprisingly close to the Temple.
Two Islanders crouched over a prone and bleeding body. At first sure she was seeing the aftermath of a robbery gone wrong, she almost screamed for help. But then she heard one of the Islanders speak with the unmistakable voice of a little girl, “...you heal him?”
The other Islander responded in a low tone that Marsa couldn’t quite make out. She took a few steps into the alley. At first glance the quieter Islander looked like a frightening fellow with an eyepatch and a bejeweled and bloody sword in his hands, but as she got closer she could see that he was also barely an adult.
“Can’t you at least try?” the girl begged.
The young man shushed her, “it won’t help.”
Marsa got closer and switched her gaze to study the bleeding figure... and saw the face she was looking for, “Oh!”
The young man’s response was quick and defensive. In the blink of an eye he was standing with his sword pointed, shaking, at her chest. She put her hands up and said sincerely, “I won’t hurt you.” She glanced down at Orfen and the young man slid protectively between her and the injured werecat. She looked back up to the young man’s face and into his golden eye. “Orfen is already my patient, I’d rather not watch him bleed out this close to my temple.”
Orfen’s friend lowered his sword but his face didn’t lose its cloud of suspicion. “You know Orfen?”
“I’ve met him.”
“You helped him?” Marsa nodded, “will you help him again?”
“Of course.”
Somewhat reluctantly, the young man turned his back to Marsa and bent down to pick Orfen up. He turned back to her, his expression still dark and cloudy but he said, “lead the way.”