24. Cold Wind, Dark Omens

Tariq took advantage of the fact that the nurse had left to get the suturing tools, and ran to Joseph. He wiped the boy’s eyes, then shook his shoulders.

"Doctor! Hey! Wake up!"

"Ugh! Aaah..."

"Come on! Wake up!" The prince dried his hands on his robe, ignoring the fact he himself was bleeding terribly. He pulled the doctor into a sitting position and kept shaking him.

"Wake up, Doctor!"

Joseph lurched from one side to the other, his head lolling back and forth, but he slowly opened his eyes. They were swollen and opaque, and full of red veins. A few more tears streamed down his cheeks, but now they were a regular translucent colour.

The doctor stared at the prince for a moment, his forehead wrinkled and his mouth half-open. His his eyes darted across the room, lingering on the lit candles before travelling back to the prince's face, particularly the wound on his head.

"You're still bleeding?"

"Mrs. Weber will take care of it."

Joseph nodded, rubbing his eyes.

"I...had a nightmare... It was about that...monster."

Tariq clenched his fists. It was certainly *more* than just a nightmare, but it would be pointless to disturb Dr. Selden even more at the moment.

*He really seems to have a gift for channelling...*

Part of him wanted to have a more in-depth conversation with Dr. Selden about this later. There was a chance the demon might be targetting him simply because he’s a lonely soul without any astral protection. If the doctor was indeed a channeller...he could be in serious danger of a more vicious astral assault in the future.

The problem was, Tariq remembered *very well* how the doctor had reacted when he summoned even a simple, gentle imp such as Mabel. How he was so quick to vilify him.

*Even if I wanted to help...does he have what it takes to handle this? Or would I just end up disclosing even more lore that should remain occult, and become more vulnerable at the same time?*

"I apologise for my behaviour earlier today..." Joseph's voice came out low and uneven.

The prince frowned and lowered his head, staring out the window behind the bed.

*You apologise to me now... But what if you see the other things I can do? Won't you malign me again?*

Receiving no response, Dr. Selden lowered his head as well, wrapping his arms around himself.

"I know I went too far... But I was so scared because I’d never seen anything like that. I didn't even know that...such a thing was possible.”

Tariq's answer was still just silence as he continued to stare out the window.

"You acted very nobly, Your Highness. If it weren’t for you..."

"I told you to not call me *Your Highness* again."

Joseph swallowed thickly and nodded. The prince looked back at him, his eyebrows now pulled together in pity.

*Remember, he came back, and in such grim circumstances. No one EVER came back.*

The room suddenly felt a little cosier when a warm sensation filled the prince's chest, giving him hope that, for the first time, he might be able to find a connection with someone outside of his adoptive family. He argued with himself in his head:

*It's too soon... Don't lower your defences just yet… It was because of him that you lost your sword...*

*No... It was because of me... I’m the one who let another person destabilise my emotions.*

*But this person is asking for forgiveness now. He came back for you.*

*Is he being genuine though?*

Tariq shook his head.

"Just go back to sleep, please. We can talk properly later."

Joseph nodded and laid his head back down. His eyes were cloudy and still watery, but his skin now had a healthier colour to it.

Tariq looked down, avoiding the sight of such a miserable figure, all covered in bruises, with two injured limbs, asking for his mercy.

Still clenching his fists, he pushed down an impertinent urge to go against his better judgement and just let it all rest in the past.

*I cannot forgive him so easily...*

*But...why do I have this feeling that, if I don't, it will haunt me forever?*

"So, let's take care of you now, lad, shall we?" Mrs. Weber the Younger asked, having finally arrived with a tray of bandages and surgery tools.

***

It seemed Mrs. Weber the Younger was surprisingly skilled at stitching up wounds. She had the prince's done in less than half an hour and she barely had to move his hair away.

"You're as good as new, lad!"

"Oh, already? You're quite good!"

"I appreciate that." She smiled, cleaning up her tools.

Joseph was already asleep again, just a few beds down from the one the prince was on. His long blonde hair was spread across the sheets, golden under the candlelight. This time, he seemed to be having a peaceful rest.

Mrs. Weber came back and took the bandages, which she promptly started to wrap around Tariq's head.

"Do you know him?"

Tariq eyes widened as he stared at the woman.

"Excuse me?"

"You were ogling him the whole time I was stitching you up, and you’re still doing it now."

"Oh... Uh... He’s my mentor. I...began my classes here less than two weeks ago."

She kept staring at him, barely blinking as she dried her hands on a towel. She seemed to be holding back a knowing smile.

"Does he have something to do with those cuts on your head? It's such a coincidence... He was out the whole night and came back just a little before you appeared."

Tariq went pale and licked his lips.

"I don’t see where you’re going with these questions, madam."

Mrs. Weber smiled, her forehead wrinkling. She shrugged and threw her towel into a wooden bucket near her desk.

"Very well. You can go back to your quarters now, young man. Wash your wounds twice a day with glycerine soap. Come back in seven days for me to take out the stitches."

***

Back in the corridors of St. Raphael’s Tower, Tariq checked the time on a grandfather clock that was hanging on a stone wall. It read 5:10 AM. He still had some time for a nap at least, as classes wouldn’t start until 8 AM.

He opened a stained glass window that depicted the Virgin Mary, covering his face with his scarf when the cold wind poured through.

*Shit... It wasn't like this when we arrived.*

The morning promised to bring a strong hoarfrost. Tariq silently thanked the ancient gods that they had managed to rescue Filip right before it started.

The prince whistled three times. A few moments later, Munin the crow arrived, landing on the windowsill and nipping at the boy's chin.

"Hey! I'm happy to see you too, little fellow!" The prince scratched the bird's head and offered him some seeds.

Once the crow seemed satisfied, Tariq signalled for him to perch upon his arm. Then, bringing the bird up to eye level, he said:

"Tell Father the curse is spreading throughout our motherland, and the dead are rising in the night, at the shadow of the *Magna Hour* to hunt and feast on the blood of her younger sons."

The crow's eyes glowed a vivid red.

CAW! CAW! CAW!

Munin leapt from the boy's arm and pierced the wintery night sky, swooping off towards his destination.

Tariq stared outside until the bird was out of his sight.

*Please be safe.*

"Are you sure that ringing the bells in the middle of the night will not wake the boys, Your Excellency?"

A bolt of shock shot through the prince, urging him to close the window in a rush and run away like a deer from a pack of wolves.

That was the voice of Malek Dvorák, the dean, and he wasn't alone.

"I give you my word they shall not be disturbed."

Tariq went pale, his legs feeling sluggish when he heard the second voice.

It belonged to the Archbishop Johannes De Beenhower, the same man who had sent guards to abduct him on New Year's Eve.

His vision began to blur, the bricks around the window already spinning...

*Shit... My talisman doesn't work against him...*

The last thing the boy had expected was to cross paths with the archbishop again so soon.

*If only I had time to warn Father...*

The sound of their footsteps on the marble floor showed they were just about to turn down the open and well-illuminated long corridor. If Tariq ran, they might hear his steps, and there were no dark nooks to hide in.

There was just the open window in front of him, and a marquee below it, where three gargoyles spread their wings to intimidate any trespassers.

*Trespassers like me...*

Sucking a deep breath, Tariq jumped through the window right before the two men appeared at the end of the corridor.

*********

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