On his hands and knees, the doctor hurled his guts out over the alley’s storm drain. It disappeared into a dark pit covered by iron grills, below faint scuttling of nails on wet stone could be heard, followed by the sounds of squeaky fighting, presumably over the fresh meal. A final convulsion produced little more than a faint dribble. His stomach was surely empty, the liquor already absorbed well into his blood stream, yet his body showed no signs of relenting. He put a hand to his head and went to use healing magic on himself, but at the last second he stopped.

  How much lifespan would that waste?

  How many others could I heal?

  Christopher was going to be late for his meeting - date? - with David at the Flaming Flamingo. Waking up he was barely in a state to move, but he tried to power on and this is where it got him. The sun had set in Kerioth, meaning it would be around three hours past noon and if he didn’t get moving soon he might as well not go.

  He lowered his hand and used it to climb to his feet, but then another wave of nausea hit him, buckling him back onto the dirty floor against the sandstone wall. He gagged and nothing came out, not a lick. It hurt his throat as it was forcibly clamped shut and he honestly wished he had vomited something, at least which felt more satisfying than his body trying to choke itself. He spat, trying to clear his mouth, but that was dry too. His body felt cold. The sweat was coming out all over and the cool afternoon air was draining every ounce of body heat. At the same time he felt so hot! His throat especially. He needed water, but every time he tried to stand he would collapse back down.

  As if magically summoned, a skin of water appeared, sloshing in front of his face. He could smell it like coming rain. Christopher did not look to see who offered it, but accepted the Good Samaritan's kindness quickly, snatching the water from their brown hands. He closed his eyes and took a swig.

  ‘Not too much now,’ a familiar voice said. ‘Only a little at a time or you will upset your stomach again.’

  He spat the water out in a spray. It was her. That woman who kidnapped him yesterday. He spun and saw her. A tall figure wrapped in a cloak, her face covered in scars and a black eyepatch. This time she held a spear. Last time he saw her he vomited too. Now he was starting to make an association between the acidic bile on his tongue with her cursed face.

  ‘I didn’t think you could show your face in public,’ Christopher said.

  ‘I didn’t expect to find a respected doctor vomiting in a dark alley.’

  He groaned, took another sip of water and this time when he climbed to his feet, his body didn’t force him back down. A wave of nausea washed over him, but then fled.

  ‘The answer is still no,’ Christopher said. ‘I can’t sneak you into there.’

  ‘So you still run.’

  ‘No, I’m done running.’ He coughed and wiped some saliva from his lips. ‘I am facing my decision, you made me see that. It is different now, I have decided to go through with the Church’s guidance instead of just “doing my job” and looking away.’

  ‘The effect is the same,’ she said with a look of contempt through her one eye. ‘What difference does it make?’

  ‘To me, everything.’

  She shook her head. ‘Do you really believe that Alek deserves this fate?’

  ‘No I don't, but all the same the Church has their reasons. It's for the greater good.’

  ‘They had their reasons for killing children too. That was also for the “greater good” and they believed it whole heartedly as they stole each and every child’s second life.’

  Christopher took another sip. He desperately wanted to empty the entire skin, but he knew it would only return him to his knees so he handed it back to her.

  ‘So you won't help me?’ she asked.

  ‘I won’t, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try to help him. I have a… friend who is a Bishop in the Church. I am seeing him tonight and I will try to convince him to free Alek, the proper way. No violence or treason, but an appeal.’

  ‘It will never work.’

  ‘Neither will a revolution.’

  She took a deep breath and Christopher prepared for the worst, but she pinched the top of her hood and pulled it slightly down.

  ‘Good day then,’ she said and into the shadows of the alley she disappeared.

  * * * *

  Christopher forgot how noisy the Flaming Flamingo was. The wooden floor was covered with small round tables, ringed by skinny stools so close to each other that it was impossible to move without bumping every other patron inside. From every table came a streaming roar of laughter. Nearly every minute someone would be bumped too hard prompting a fist fight that no one bothered to take outside. In the middle of this ocean sat David and Christopher under the hanging lanterns and their best-forgotten memories.

  A waitress with a motherly face and streaks of grey hair emerged from the crowd. She wore a white button-up shirt that struggled to contain her oversized breasts and Christopher wondered how she managed to move through the crowd at all. She slammed down two bowls in front of Christopher and David while juggling another two plates and a platter holding four mugs sloshing with ale.

  ‘Thank you,’ Christopher said, but she had already turned around and was yelling at some burly adventurer wearing nothing but pants.

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  David picked up a fork and started picking at his food with an uninterested look.

  Christopher’s stomach growled despite his earlier battle with it and he desperately wanted to plow into the spicy fumes rising from his rabbit molokhia, but he needed an answer first.

  ‘So?’ the doctor asked.

  David made a whiny, grumbling noise, still looking down into his bowl, but eating nothing.

  ‘I don’t think it's a good idea.’

  ‘And why is that?’

  He shook his head, still refusing to look up and meet the doctor’s gaze. ‘I don’t even want to talk about it. We should be catching up, not fussing over… some boy.’

  Christopher’s fists clenched in response. If only he knew how much that last word meant to me. He would never be able to explain it, not to anyone.

  ‘I mean we shouldn’t be talking about it,’ he continued, lowering his voice so it was only a murmur above the clamour around them. ‘For all the city knows, the boy is dead and it is better that way. In fact I don’t know why the Church doesn’t just execute him for real. It would be safer for everyone.’

  Christopher wiped his brow. ‘I can’t believe what I am hearing. David, you have never even seen Alek. I mean you were in the dungeon when the whole kerfuffle occurred. How can you call for someone's death you have never even seen?’

  ‘I didn’t need to see it. I heard the whole story. Some are saying he has demon’s blood.’

  ‘Ridiculous.’

  ‘What’s more ridiculous is walking under the angel.’

  Christopher sighed. Unfortunately he did agree on that point. After just looking at an angel he felt uneasy, he could not even imagine walking within its range, let along directly under it.

  ‘Regardless I can’t help you,’ David said. ‘I am barely a Bishop anymore and I have my own issues to deal with.’ Finally, he looked up from his untouched meal with wide pleading eyes, begging for sympathy. ‘Marie has abandoned me and my project has been stolen. I’m being isolated within the Church and have lost all respect. It’s like I have the plague or something. I mean I spent a week in that horrible dungeon and- and they beat me every day for a crime I didn’t commit, but no one cares, no one.’

  Christopher had run out of sympathy. He slammed his fists on the table and stood up, learning over the table and his skinny stool toppled behind him with an unnoticed crash.

  ‘Are you being fucking serious?’

  David lent back, wide eyed and shielding himself with his hands as if the wrinkly, old man across from him would have the strength to do anything more than ruffle his curly hair.

  ‘I mean- I mean.’ Christopher didn’t even know where to begin with this insolent- He grabbed his own hair and nearly pulled out a tuft. ‘You complain about that dungeon - that I healed you in every day, VOLUNTARILY - but you had it easy compared to Alek. Your beatings could be passed for falling down a fight of stairs. He would DIE if I didn’t heal him. And lets not forget he did not commit a crime either. You may not have, but your actions DID lead to your assistant dying. Alek has killed no one.’

  ‘Stop saying his name,’ David said in a hush. ‘Someone might hear.’

  ‘I’ll say his god-damned name if I want to.’

  ‘Alright, whatever. Say his name, but he actually deserves to be in there. I didn’t do anything wrong.’

  ‘DAVID, YOU KILLED SOMEONE WHILE TRYING TO CREATE A WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION.’ Christopher felt like he was going crazy. Even if that was a slight exaggeration of the events - a slight exaggeration - it was still more than enough reason to execute David based on his own logic. ‘I didn’t want it to come to this, but the only reason you are still a Bishop, the only reason you are out of that dungeon right now is because I,’ Christopher thumped his scrawny chest, ‘campaigned for your release and your innocence. Because I vouched for you.’

  ‘What?’

  Christopher smoothed his hair back down, trying to calm himself. ‘They were planning to execute you David. I don’t know if they would have, but I do know they were thinking about it. They thought that the weapon was just a plot to assassinate Arch-bishop Suraj so that you could take his place.’

  ‘I would never.’

  ‘Luckily, when Marie woke up from her coma, again that I healed, she was able to give credit to your story. She hates you, for what happened to Leo. She said you rushed the project before she was finished, before she could ensure its safety, but she did say you were honest, as did I.’

  David put his head in his hands. ‘I feel so pathetic.’

  Good.

  Christopher picked his stool off the ground, in between the stools from the table behind him, and sat back down.

  ‘But still,’ David said, ‘I think you would have more sway in the Church than I would right now.’

  Christopher shook his head. ‘I can vouch for someone’s personality whom I have known for years, but I don’t have any say in matters of the Church. However, David, you are a Bishop. I still remember when you were a priest’s apprentice. Now you are one of the most powerful people in Kerioth. All I need from you is to ask for an appeal. A formal investigation into whether Alek is a threat or not. Then I will have an official channel to speak into as his doctor.’

  ‘Do you really think it will work?’

  ‘I’m not sure, but this is the correct path. This is a chance to right a wrong, to save an innocent soul and I can promise you that this child is no threat, but he is going through true Hell down there right now. Remember your days in that dungeon and show some empathy. This is a chance to earn some repentance and if you do this for me we will consider it even between us.’

  David managed a weak smile. ‘Even?’

  ‘Even. All debts repaid.’

  David skewered a piece of rabbit thigh from his still steaming molokhia.

  ‘Alright, I can do that. I’ll even put in a word for the boy myself.’

  ‘You promise?’

  ‘Aye, I’ll talk to Suraj tomorrow.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Still, David’s earlier question nagged at Christopher's mind. Will it work? Will this be enough to free Alek? There was only one answer: It would have to be.