Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Panacea

All doubts of the miracle’s legitimacy vanished along with Emily’s scars. Former sceptics now judged Valen with silent stares like a criminal on the gallows for expressing the doubt they all harboured.

One by one, they all lined up to drink the Unborn God’s blood. Like clockwork they’d fall to the ground convulsing just as Emily did only to get up again a few seconds later completely healed of what ailed them.

A dwarf grew back his hand with speed unheard of even for vampires. Tiny white growths of bone sprouted from his wrist stump the moment he hit the ground. They continued to grow to form the skeleton of a hand, and each violent convulsion that wracked his body created veins that slithered up the newly formed bones like crawling red weeds. By the time he regained consciousness, it had formed a complete hand that was even more flexible and less calloused than its twin.

Valen watched from the corner of the church with Enid and Louise beside him. They’d been pushed there by those eager to receive the Unborn God’s gift, some of whom were less than gentle when shoving Valen out of the way. He assumed they’d branded him as a heretic in their minds. Louise would’ve started a fistfight with them had he not calmed her down enough to pull her away with him.

“Valen.” Louise watched an old man convulse on the floor as his arthritis healed. “What manner of magical fuckery is this?”

“I’m a scientist, not a mage,” said Valen. “I haven’t a bloody clue.”

“Uh-huh. What about you, Thunder Tits?”

“I’m a mage and an alchemist but that doesn’t make me a miracle worker,” said Enid. “I have no idea.”

“You know, you’re being awfully calm about this,” said Valen. “This seems like it should be a world-shattering revelation that makes us question everything we know about the Divine and their relationship with us mortals.”

“Perhaps. But you seem pretty calm yourself.”

“I don’t know.” Valen narrowed his eyes at Byron handing the chalice of quickly dwindling mystery fluid to a young man in a wheelchair. “I still don’t think I buy his story about the Unborn God.”

“It might not actually be the Unborn God’s blood,” said Enid. “Byron might just be framing it like that so people are more willing to put their blind faith into it. If you want my professional opinion, I think it’s some sort of panacea potion made from rare, probably poached magical ingredients.”

It was a stretch, but not entirely impossible. Certain body parts of wild magical animals were often used in ancient times to create magical potions with varying effects. Many species went extinct from overhunting before the practice was outlawed but rumours persist that some smarter members of the species were able to go into hiding or are being bred in secret by the rich and powerful.

The species that were left still got hunted and sold on the black market. Only their natural deadliness kept them from being wiped out by poachers who tended to target the much weaker juveniles.

“Panacea?” Louise seemed confused. “Isn’t that like an organ?”

“That would be the pancreas, Louise,” said Valen. “A panacea is what you’d call a universal cure for all ailments.”

“I’ve done some research on the topic as an alchemist,” added Enid. “I suppose it’s not impossible with the right magical ingredients. Magic is only magic because science can’t explain it. I’ve read about unicorn horns having healing properties too but they went extinct centuries ago.”

“You weren’t awake for this, but Byron and I were in the same biker gang,” said Louise. “Sure, we liked to raise hell and scrap with other gangs, but we never dabbled in the poaching trade. Not while I was around at least.”

“Byron isn’t the head of the entire Primordial Church,” Valen reminded her. “He just runs this particular church. That so-called Divine Blood must be given to him by his higher-ups. He might not know or even care about what’s in it. Bloke sure seems to be enjoying all the reverence it affords him.”

“But if this cure really does work then it’s no harm no foul, right?” asked Louise. “It’s saving peoples’ lives. Who cares if it’s really divine or illegal?”

“Ethics of poaching aside, there must be a catch,” Valen insisted. “There’s always one when things are too good to be true.”

The catch only made itself known once every person in the church had been healed. By then the sickly sweet scent that once pervaded the church had disappeared in its entirety.

When the cheering words of praise and grace settled down, Byron reached into a compartment behind his pulpit and pulled out a solid gold bowl big enough to mix a cake with.

“Now, it’s time to show your gratitude to the Unborn God who healed you.” He walked up to Emily and shook the bowl side to side in her face. “Those who were healed or had your loved one healed, I encourage you all to show the Unborn God how much the life they’ve given you is worth by offering a monetary token of your devotion to them.”

The sound of opening wallets filled the air. Emily herself placed a very generous stack of twenties into the bowl with a smile on her now healed face.

“Now, I’ll be completely honest with you,” said Byron as strolled from person to person shaking the golden bowl in their face. “From here on out, it’s up to you to hang on to this blessing. Follow the tenants of our faith. See not the myriad races we’ve been twisted into by the cruel gods. Instead, treat each other like the brothers and sisters we are under our One True God. Spread the word of the Unborn God so that they may grow in power. Send those who are sick and hurting like you once were here or to any other Primordial Church. For should your faith ever waver, the blessing you now enjoy will be stripped away from you and you will return to the broken people you once were.”

“Wait a minute.” A young man who had entered the church bound to a wheelchair stood staring at Byron with all colour drained from his face. “I could go back to being a cripple?!”

“And I might lose my hand again?!” cried a dwarf who gripped the wrist of his new hand tight as if it could fall off at any second.

Byron paused his stroll to silence any further questions with a masterful wave of his hand.

“Now, now.” He sounded like a parent pacifying his impatient children. “Worry not. Should you ever lose this blessing, just come back here and I will personally administer it again.”

More cheers erupted from the crowd. Byron received it with little grace, soaking in their adoration with open arms an ego-empowering euphoric bliss.

“And therein lies the rub,” said Valen under his breath.

“Rub?” asked Louise. “What’s this got to do with a barbeque?”

Enid rolled her eyes. “Gods, you’re dumb.”

“Well excuse me for not being able to afford a bloody education!”

Valen cleared his throat before another insult war could start.

“Sorry, I meant the catch. There’s the catch. That potion probably does heal them for a set amount of time before running out, at which point they’d have to return to the church to receive it again.”

“That’d explain why so many people believed him in the beginning,” said Enid. “They must’ve come here to be healed before. That’s why they didn’t even flinch when it looked like that elf girl was having a seizure.”

“Okay?” Louise furrowed her snow white brow. “I still don’t see the problem. They just have to keep coming back to get the treatment and all is well, right?”

“They’ll be pressured to keep paying him too,” said Enid. “To show their ‘devotion’ to the Unborn God, as it were.”

“Best case scenario they’ll keep paying Byron what they can afford every time they get sick again,” said Valen. “Worst case scenario he’ll start withholding the potion unless they pay more than they can afford or do what he tells them to.”

“Would he really do something like that?” asked Louise.

“I can’t speak for Byron as a person but I wouldn’t put it past his higher ups,” said Valen. “If they really cared about saving people they’d have made the potion recipe available to the public instead of creating a new religion out of it.”

“You said you knew him, yeah?” asked Enid. “Does exploiting people for profit sound like something he’d do?”

“...No?” Louise sounded unsure. “Maybe? Honestly I wasn’t all that close to him.”

Valen raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say he had a crush on you?”

“He had a crush on you?” Enid raised her eyebrow as well. “What, is he a nonce too?”

“Oy!” Louise pointed an accusatory finger at her. “I’ll have you know I got curves too you furless werecow!”

“Where?”

“The hoodie’s baggy, okay?!” Louise shoved both hands in the pockets of said hoodie. “Also, I’m pretty sure ‘Byron’ only had a crush on me ‘cause we’re both arctic werewolves.”

“Why does that matter?” asked Valen.

“Some stupid shit about keeping our racial intregity, whatever that means.”

“Ah.” Valen decided that he definitely didn’t like this Byron fellow. “Duly noted.”

“So much for not seeing race,” said Enid. “He sounds like a bloody prick.”

“He was nice enough to me when we were in the same gang,” Louise insisted.

“Everyone is nice to you when they want to get in your trousers.” Enid spoke more from experience than she would’ve liked to admit. “That or your wallet.”

“Yeah, I don’t really have much in that second one,” said Louise. “Delivering pizza is honest work but it doesn't exactly pay well.”

People started shuffling past Valen and his friends on their way out the door. He looked at the stage and saw Byron waving farewell to the grateful congregation with one hand while the other held his golden bowl now filled with more cash than most Nocturnal District residents made in a year.

“Looks like the event’s over.” Valen decided to wait for the whole congregation to leave before sneaking out behind them. “I’m not quite sure how much of this I can use for my dissertation but-”

“You over lot over there.” The same smug voice he’d been hearing ramble on for the past half hour or so cut him off. Valen turned to see Byron beckoning him over to the now empty stage with an open palm like one would a dog. “Come here for a moment, wouldn’t you?”

Valen was thinking of a polite way to decline when Louise brushed past him. She walked up the stage stairs and flicked off her yellow hood before Byron could say anything.

“Evening' Timmy,” she said with both hands in the pockets of her baggy hoodie.

“Wait, Louise?!” Byron took a step back in shock. If he blushed, Valen couldn’t see it under his fake tan. “You…you were here?”

“Yeah, and I brought a couple mates along too.” She looked back at Valen and Enid. “Hey Valen! Thunder Tits! Come introduce yourselves, yeah?”

“I guess we’re doing this now,” Valen muttered under his breath before walking over to Louise.

“Bloody Snowball,” said Enid, though she followed him without protest.

Valen stood beside Louise as he introduced himself to Byron.

“Good evening, sir.” He smiled the close-mouthed smile he’d trained himself to show in the company those he didn’t trust to not stake him at the sight of his teeth. “I’m Valen. Louise here is an old friend of mine.”

Byron narrowed his eyes on him. “She’s never mentioned you before.”

“It seems we were friends with her during different times of her life,” said Valen. “Still, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he lied. His eyes shifted to Enid, taking a solid second to notice her appearance above the neck. “And you are?”

“Enid,” she said bluntly. “I’m friends with Valen.”

“Right. Of course.” He turned his attention back to Louise with a somewhat less shiteating grin on his face. “Anyways, Louise! I didn’t expect to see you here. Never took you for the religious type.”

“I’m not,” said Louise. “I’m mostly here because of Valen. He’s writing a dissertation about your church.”

“Ah. I see.” He grinned at Valen with gritted teeth. “An educated fellow, aren’t you?”

“You could say that,” said Valen. “I’m currently studying at Silverlake University.”

“Ah. Posh sort, eh?” Byron’s grin twisted into a sneer that he quickly corrected. “Are you studying to be a doctor? You seemed to know what you were doing with the elf girl earlier. Not that there was any need for it.”

“Psychologist, actually. I majored in biology for my bachelor’s, though.”

“Good, because if the Unborn God has their way, doctors will soon be a thing of the past.” He shifted his attention back to Louise, his smile returning to a genuine one as he did. “Anyways, Louise! It’s so good to see you again. How’re you doing?”

“I’m alright,” said Louise. “Actually, I was hoping you’d help Valen here with his dissertation while I use your toilet.”

“Ah…right.” Byron went back to gritting his teeth. “Of course. I’d be glad to help.”

“Where is the toilet by the way?”

“Take the backdoor. It’s down the hallway to the left.”

“Thanks!” Louise patted Valen on the shoulder before descending the stage stairs. “You boys should have plenty to talk about.”

The moment Louise disappeared behind the back door, Byron’s paltry attempt at a polite facade faded away.

“What’s your relationship with Louise?” he asked, his amber eyes glaring daggers at Valen.

“She’s an old friend.” Valen kept his tone polite but without any pretence of fondness. “We grew up close to each other.”

“Are you dating here?”

“I don’t see that’s of any importance, sir.”

The answer only served to rile him up further.

“Bullshit. I saw her in that loud-ass yellow hoodie kissing you during the sermon.”

Enid focused her eyes on Valen. “She did what now?”

“It was just a friendly kiss on the cheek,” said Valen. “She was very generous with them when we were kids.”

“A friendly kiss?” Byron snorted with unamused laughter. “Is that what you call it?”

“It is,” said Valen. “I’d offer you one as well but I’d hate to smear your tan.”

Enid stopped glaring at him to look away, the faintest hint of a smile on the corner of her lips.

Byron was less amused.

“Look, I know you vampires will shag anything with a pulse but you stay away from Louise, you hear?”

Valen was almost taken aback by his blatant hypocrisy just minutes after preaching the unimportance of race. Although, he guessed that was to be expected with what Louise told him about his shallow crush.

“You must know Louise quite well, yes?” Valen asked without waiting for an answer. “If you do then I’m sure you know that she is very capable of speaking for herself.”

“She doesn’t know it, but she’s more important to our kind than you can possibly know. Do you know how many arctic wolves there are in this city?” Byron didn’t wait for an answer either. “There are probably less than a hundred werewolves with pure white fur left and she’s one of them. She ought to get with one of her own kind to ensure the purity of our bloodline.”

Enid scoffed. “What, someone like you?”

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“Exactly!” Byron exclaimed, the sarcasm evidently lost on him. “This one gets it!”

“Whatever happened to race not mattering?” asked Valen. “One ought to practise what they preach.”

“This is different,” said Byron with a dismissive wave. “It’s about preserving the purity of our bloodline. You vampires are big on blood purity too, yeah? The Unborn God understands.”

“Speaking of which, where do you get that blood of theirs exactly?” Valen looked past Byron’s shoulder at the now empty chalice sitting on the shrine next to the now half empty potion flask. “I don’t imagine it being a very easy resource to gather.”

“The Unborn God works in mysterious ways that not everyone has the piety to be privy to,” said Byron, a fancy way of saying ‘I don’t know and to be honest I don’t really care.’

Valen assumed that knowledge of where the stuff came from or how it was made was above whatever Byron’s pay grade was.

“That blood could be put to much better use in hospitals and the like,” said Valen.

“The faithless masses have no business partaking in the Unborn God’s sacred blood,” Byron replied. “Without proper piety the effects of the blessing won’t last long anyways.”

Valen doubted piety had anything to do with it but decided to entertain the notion for the time being.

“Even so, it could still save many lives. Paramedics can use it to buy injured people enough time to be brought to hospital.”

“Then it’s up to those paramedics to come to us for guidance. The Unborn God can’t help those who don’t wish to be helped.”

Valen considered telling him that he needed a different kind of help as well, but Louise returned from her toilet break before he could offer him an appointment with one of his psychology professors.

“Hey!” Louise sauntered beside Valen with both hands buried deep in the baggy pockets of her sleeveless yellow hoodie. “Sorry I took so long. I had some spicy wings at the bar before coming here. Tell your custodian I’m sorry.”

Enid pursed her lips a little tighter than usual in what was for her a look of profound disgust.

“I think it’s about time we left,” she said, wrapping her hand around Valen’s.

“Agreed,” said Valen. “I believe I’ve learnt all that I needed to. Thank you for your time, Brother Byron.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Byron lied, not even attempting to hide his disdain. He turned to Louise and his grim expression immediately brightened. “Say, Louise, how about you and I grab a drink? I just gotta take care of some stuff in the back and then I’m free for the night.”

“Ah, thanks, but not tonight,” said Louise. “Gotta make sure these two get back to their posh-arse flat in one piece.”

“Of course.” Byron gritted his teeth. “Stay safe then.”

“We will!” Louise turned around and started walking towards the door with her hands still buried in her pockets. “Come on you two!.”

Valen turned to Byron one last time, more out of politeness than anything else. “Goodbye and goodnight, sir.”

‘Good riddance too,’ he thought to himself.

“Likewise, lad,” said Byron.

Valen was fairly certain they were the same age, but didn’t care enough to call him out on it. Enid didn’t bother to say anything at all and until they joined Louise outside.

She only spoke when they’d walked away enough from the church enough to be out of hypersensitive earshot.

“Your priest friend’s an arsehole,” said Enid.

Surprisingly enough, Louise didn’t seem angry. She only offered a noncommittal shrug with her hands still hidden in her pockets.

“Okay, so he’s a bit crass-”

“No,” interrupted Enid before she could finish. “You are a bit crass. I am a bit crass. That guy is an arsehole who wants to fuck you because he’s too inbred to consider sticking his micropenis into anyone who doesn’t share a direct ancestor with him.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

“I actually have to agree with Enid on this one,” said Valen. “He had some rather choice words while you were away.”

Louise came to an abrupt stop. “Like what?”

“Nothing that matters now,” Valen insisted. The last thing he needed was for her to turn around just to cause trouble. “Let’s just get back to our rides.”

Louise narrowed her eyes on Valen before letting out a sigh and a shrug.

“If you say so, mate.” She looked up at the domed sky and squinted to see through the dark tinted glass. The rain had stopped but the water droplets it left behind still trickled down the sides of the dome in a gravitational race to the bottom. “Let’s hope you get out of here before sunrise.”

“Yeah,” said Valen. “I have a lot to think about when I get back. That panacea Byron used might be temporary but it can still save so many lives if only the right people had it.”

“Like who?” asked Louise.

“Doctors and scientists who can conduct some proper study on it.” Valen scratched his chin. “I guess I can try convincing my professors to see the church for themselves. Byron might be willing to lend a sample of that magic blood if it’s to respected scientists.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” said Enid. “I don’t think that bastard or his cult is very eager to share their meal ticket’s secrets. If they did, no one would have a reason to shower them with money anymore.”

“You’re right,” Valen admitted with a dejected sigh. The more he thought about the situation, the more unwinnable it seemed. “Even if the Primordial Church allowed testing on the panacea and my professors are somehow able to replicate it, there’s the legal issue of distribution since it could be classified as a trade secret.”

“And if others can’t distribute it, that just leaves Byron and his cult as the sole provider,” Enid pointed out. “Your professors would’ve just given them the exposure needed to exploit even more people.”

“But people going to the Primordial Church for help is still better than them dying from their illnesses, right?”

“Maybe, but we still don’t know how reliable that panacea is or if there are any long term effects on the people who take it. Also, those people would be owing their lives to a total bellend.”

Louise remained silent as she picked up her pace, walking ahead of Valen and Enid with her hands buried in her pockets.

Valen decided to drop the matter of Byron and the Primordial Church for the time being. Racist incel or not, Byron was still Louise’s old friend and he didn’t want to insult Louise through him.

The three of them continued to retrace their steps out of Sharpe Street while making smalltalk sprinkled with surprisingly few insults between Enid and Louise.

When they got to the narrow alleyway that separated Sharpe Street from Reveller’s Row, there was no longer any trace of the unconscious mugger Enid had electrocuted earlier that night. None, save for a fresh pile of vomit on the floor that Valen took care not to step on.

“Seems like that werecoyote from before got off fine,” said Enid.

“I don’t think ‘fine’ is the right word,” said Louise, pinching her hypersensitive nose at the smell of vomit.

“He’ll heal,” said Valen. “Hopefully.”

They sped past the alleyway and emerged to the booming music of Reveller’s Row on the other side. Enid’s blue luxury car was parked right where she left it. Even the most opportunistic gangsters knew better than to cause trouble in Reveller’s Row when their bosses were making bank through the tourism there.

Valen turned his gaze skywards and saw that a faint tint of orange light had already seeped through the artificial sky to signal the oncoming dawn. The sunlight wasn’t intense enough to be dangerous yet, but could prove incredibly painful if it got any brighter while he was inside a car.

“You brought your umbrella, right Valen?” Enid asked, having followed his gaze. “I haven’t gotten to sun-proofing my car windows yet.”

“Of course.” Valen reached into his overcoat and pulled out his collapsible umbrella. “You can drive home while I walk to the metro with my-oh.”

Valen unfurled the umbrella to find all its ribs bent and broken in every possible direction.

“That werecoyote from before got a solid hit on you, didn’t he?” said Louise. “He must’ve broken your umbrella during that little tussle.”

“Seems so.” Valen forced the broken umbrella back closed before shoving it back into his coat. “Shame. I liked this umbrella.”

“Can’t you just buy a new one around here?” asked Enid.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” said Louise. “In case you’ve forgotten, it doesn’t exactly rain in this bigass dome and the people born here aren’t expected to leave. You might as well be ordering a steak in a vegan restaurant.”

“Unfortunately, she’s right,” said Valen. “When I lived here I had to order my umbrellas online.”

It’d been far too long since Valen had to worry about the sun, having been spoiled by his university’s convenient night classes.

He remembered when he was just a child attending a normal school outside the Nocturnal District hoping that it’d give him a better chance in life. Back then he had to slather himself with copious amounts of sunscreen and hold onto a cheap umbrella for dear life every time he walked to school.

“Why don’t you crash at my place for the day?” asked Louise. “Thunder tits can go home and you can stay till night falls.”

“Absolutely not,” said Enid before turning to Valen. “I’ll pay for a hotel if you need somewhere to stay here.”

“It’s alright,” said Valen. “I trust Louise. Besides, I think it’d be nice to visit her place again.”

“Are you sure about this?” Enid squeezed his hand tight.

“I’m sure,” said Valen. “You know I can take care of myself.”

“As long as you’re fine with that.”

She paused for a moment, then gestured for him to come closer with one beckoning finger.

Valen leaned forward to put his face next to hers and she planted a small kiss on his cheek, a gesture she usually reserved for birthdays and exam weeks.

Kissing or being kissed anywhere near the neck was considered the ultimate sign of trust in vampire culture-especially if either the kisser or receiver wasn’t a vampire themselves. It implied complete confidence on the non-vampire’s part that their vampire friend won’t use that brief moment of closeness to bite them.

Enid knew the meaning behind it, and every now and then used it to remind Valen of their friendship.

Louise rolled her eyes, unamused. “You two wanna have a quick farewell shag in the car too?”

Enid glared at her with pursed lips.

“Shut it, Snowball.” She pulled open her car door. “You better not cause trouble for him while he’s here.”

Louise took one hand out of her pocket to grab Valen’s shoulder, having to stretch her arm all the way up to do so with the height difference. “Whatever you say ma'am.”

Enid turned to Valen.

“Take care, Valen.” She got into her car and the engine hummed to life. Before leaving, she rolled down her left side window to speak with her best friend one last time. “I’ll have dinner waiting for you when you get home.”

“Uh, that won’t be-” Enid rolled up her window and drove away before he could finish “-necessary.”

Valen dreaded to think of what culinary abomination would await him back home. As much as he loved his friend, she had the tendency to make every kitchen she stood in a hazardous area. He still wasn’t sure what she did to make their last oven explode.

Louise brought Valen to where her motorcycle was parked, in front of a pub which he now saw was named ‘The Smiling Stray.’

It was a homely little place compared to the trendy modern bars and nightclubs it shared the street with. A warm orange glow radiated from its windows which showed a small but very engaged population of patrons drinking and eating together with smiles on their faces to the sound of old-fashioned fit for an ancient bard’s repertoire reverberated.

“Charming little place,” said Valen. “Do you go there often?”

“Only when I need a place to relax,” said Louise. “I know you don’t drink but I think you’d like it. They got some brilliant burgers on the menu.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

Louise zipped up the pockets of her hoodie before going to drag her motorcycle out from her parking spot. Valen realised then that she had at least one hand in her pockets for almost their entire walk there but didn’t see the need to comment on it. He was too distracted by a familiar accessory strapped onto her motorcycle.

“Is that my old helmet?” Valen asked, pointing at the extra motorcycle helmet that hung from the side of the passenger seat cushion. It was covered in scratches and the red paint on it was so faded it could pass for a dark pink, but looked to be in perfect working condition.

“Oh yeah.” Louise became oddly quiet. If Valen didn’t know better, he’d have thought she was embarrassed. “I keep it around just in case. You can go ahead and use it.”

“Will do.”

Valen removed the passenger seat and unstrapped the old helmet that’d been secured under it. He put it back on his head for the first time in almost six years.

The fit was a bit tight but the discomfort was worth the comfort of knowing his skull was protected from the sidewalk. He tucked his black ponytail into his shirt and tied the long ends of his overcoat in front of him to keep it from getting caught in the wheels. It might wrinkle the fabric and be a pain to iron out later, but it was still better to be safe than sorry.

Louise straddled her yellow motorcycle and strapped on her own bright yellow helmet. “You still remember how to ride passenger?”

“Keep my head out of your way and my hands off your chest?” Valen asked, half joking.

Louise chuckled. “Yeah, but since thunder tits isn’t here, feel free to ignore that second one.” She started up her motorcycle. “Well? Hope on!”

“Ah, right!” Valen tried his best to hide the light blush on his face.

He mounted himself on the long seat cushion behind her. While only slightly tall for a vampire his age at around 190 centimetres or so, he still towered over Louise from behind. He could’ve used her dishevelled white hair as a cushy chinrest if he wanted to, but since he liked his chin unbroken, he decided to put his head on her shoulder instead.

“Hold one tight,” Louise perched her wolven feet on the rubber footrests. “I know you’re tough but I’d still rather you not get hurt and bleed all over my ride.”

“Duly noted.”

Valen leaned forward and held Louise by the stomach. Upon doing so, he was surprised to feel something in the belly pocket of her hoodie. It was round and hard with a slight warmth to it. Almost like the shape of a small potion flask.

“Uh, Louise?” Valen asked with worry in his voice. “What’s that in your-”

She switched the bike to full throttle and launched both of them onto the street before he could finish.

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