Chapter 4 #2
Once Clayton had finished putting the spell patch on The Arm’s head wound, he let out a tiny sigh of relief.
The edges of the patch shimmered, and the whole thing faded, seemingly sinking into the man’s skin.
“What the—?” That was new. If it was a manifestation of Clayton’s abnormality, it wasn’t one he was aware of.
The Arm scowled. “It’s a side effect.”
“Of what?” He might have asked that a bit loudly, but new magic affected him that way.
“The kind you forget about if you value your life.” A hand covered Clayton’s face, pushing him backward. It was possible he had gotten a tad too close to the man in his excitement.
“I hardly think that was called for,” Clayton huffed.
Due to Clayton’s obsessive study habits, there was very little about the Other that surprised him, so new things always set off a zeal for discovery in him that made him want to learn everything. After all, what if the phenomenon was something that would negatively impact the healing spell?
Clayton needed to investigate further, so he fished around for another spell patch to see what would happen if he stuck another one on The Arm. Would it dissolve as well, or would something new happen?
“Tough. I do.” Sparks skittered along The Arm’s arms, making a faint hissing and popping sound, and Clayton could feel heat radiating against his skin even from the respectful distance he’d been struggling to keep.
On second thought, the man seemed healthy enough, so there was no harm in letting the topic die. “So, about those missing items.”
“I’m not here for the items. I’m here for the kids.”
“Hold on. What kids? Specific kids? You aren’t here to buy children, are you? Because we’ll have words if you are.” From a nice, safe, rock-throwing distance, of course.
The Arm gave Clayton an incredibly dirty look. “I don’t traffic in kids.”
Clayton loosened his grip on the sharp rock he’d just now realized he’d grabbed. “What exactly are you here for, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“The same as you.” The Arm got to his knees and shook his head slightly. “Only more successfully.”
Clayton stood and reached out a hand to the man, only to have it ignored. The Arm came to his feet gracefully, not moving at all like a man who’d had a roof cave in on him.
He was only a bit taller than Clayton, but he was twice as broad. Why was it Clayton’s lot in life to be surrounded by bodybuilders?
Clayton puffed out his chest and projected as much manliness as he could before saying, “My success tends to be of a subtle variety. I doubt someone like you could recognize it.”
He hadn’t forgotten that dig about him having no magic. As far as Clayton was concerned, now that the man was on his feet again, their unspoken truce was over.
A raven colored eyebrow lifted. “Sure it is, Red.”
“If the two of you are done flirting, I suggest you come over here before the rest of the ceiling comes down on you.” Eira’s tired, pain-filled voice inserted itself into their staring match.
Clayton tilted his head toward the ceiling reflexively and shrugged. “Don’t worry, it’s finished.”
He tried to be as vague as possible when it came to incidents such as these. He found the less he drew attention to his abnormality, the better. Being on the receiving end of an angry mob was even less fun than it sounded.
“Humor me.” She said faintly before leaning her head against the wall and closing her eyes.
Clayton hurried to her side and crouched down, checking her injury. She wasn’t bouncing back half as fast as he was. Clayton was almost ready to take off his spell patch, but Eira looked barely more lucid than she had when he’d found her.
Dammit. Due to the magic-resistant nature of her race, she was going to heal much more slowly, even with magical help. He should have realized that. And with him up in her business, it could take even longer.
Clayton shot to his feet and moved back a full meter from her just to be safe. “Eira, I think we’re going to have to go on without you, I’m afraid.”
“We?” The Arm came up beside him.
Eira was not sturdy enough to withstand Clayton’s condition, but The Arm? He had taken quite a pounding and bounced back quickly. He had potential. Truce back on.
“Yes, we. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think I’m safe in assuming we’ve both got the same mission, yes? Find the missing things?”
A shrug was his only response.
Clayton decided to take that as a yes and continued. “If there are missing children involved, as you suggested, then we need to solve this thing quickly.”
The Arm nodded.
Missing children… Hold on.
“Eira, you said most of the items missing revolved around Merry and Tommy’s part of town, yes?”
“That’s right.”
“Was it that part of town, or the children specifically, that the missing items centered around?”
Eira paused, thinking, then paled. “It’s the children.”
“Mr. Arm, please come with me.” Clayton turned, picking his way through the debris left by his little accident. The Arm was beside him in a flash, navigating the rocky terrain with ease while Clayton twisted one ankle and stubbed each big toe in succession before he managed to get clear.
“It’s Mal.”
“Oh, it’s not the work of evil, trust me. Anyway, I’ve seen far worse.” Clayton spoke many languages, so he often assumed everyone else did as well, and he thought the man beside him was talking about what Clayton had done to the tunnel.
“No, my name is Mal.”
“Oh, sorry. What a lovely name. I’m Clayton; a pleasure.” He nodded his snootiest nod and offered a hand to shake. Mal stared at it until Clayton let it drop awkwardly. “Can you tell me any details about your case?”
“The Benighted up north are missing some kids. It happened right after some of their stuff went missing. I heard this town had a similar problem, so I came.” Mal scowled as though condescending to speak to Clayton for so long was a great effort on his part.
“That’s all you can tell me?”
Another shrug.
“You'd better be good in a fight.”
“Better than you.”
“I don’t think I like you very much.”
This time, Clayton was rewarded with what might have been a grin, but it held far too many teeth—all of which were pointed. It roused feelings that had no place in the situation he found himself in.
“Were any of the children found?” Clayton asked.
“None.”
Clayton picked up his pace.