“Maybe we should get him a doctor instead of arresting him,” the smoking officer said. “Yorem, go check if Medhar’s still here. He should be in the infirmary with the patients.”

  “Yes, sir,” Yorem -the young officer- said, rushing away.

  “Doctor Stenser is here?” Skye asked, smiling at the thought of seeing a familiar face. “He knows me. I-I live in his house. He’ll vouch for me. He’ll tell you I’m not lying.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Kitsil grumbled.

  A moment later, Dr. Stenser stepped in, cleaning his glasses with the edge of his white robe. Skye wanted to run and hug the man who’d been his caretaker for months. But the fatigue in the doctor’s eyes made him stop.

  Stenser’s black hair, always immaculate, was tousled, his smooth jaw shadowed with stubble. Stenser must have been called like last time to treat some miners, but the cave-in had happened hours ago. The only reason he’s here this late was because he’d been waiting for Skye’s return.

  Skye looked at his feet in shame. He’d avoided the doctor ever since his outburst, and hadn’t the chance to apologize. He was due a severe tongue-lashing.

  “Hello there,” the doctor said softly, kneeling in front of Skye. He examined his face, then gently checked his arms, turning them over. “Nothing too serious. Just a simple Geo contamination and light bruising. Fantasia dissipates naturally. Stay in the city for a few days and you’ll be good as new. Don’t forget to drink lots of water and eat well tonight.” He added a smile that didn’t reach his eyes before standing. The one he always wore to put patients at ease. To seem friendly to strangers.

  Astonished, Skye watched the doctor pour himself a cup of water. Why didn’t he say anything?

  “Phew, I came here for an emergency, stayed for ten.” Stenser took a seat beside the constables. “Can’t you do something about these cave-ins?” He drank heartily, then noticed the officers eyeing him with suspicion. “What?”

  “Kid says you know him,” Kitsil said. “Says he lives in your house. His name’s Skye.”

  Stenser turned to Skye, his smile faltering into a frown. “I do let patients sleep at my clinic from time to time, but I think I’d remember you if you’d been there recently. Who’re your parents?”

  Skye stared at the doctor in shock. It wasn’t simply recently. He’d been living with the Medhars, eating at their table, for eight months. Was the doctor angry with him? Was his idea of punishing Skye for going against his wishes to disown and kick him out of his house?

  “Doctor, I’m sorry,” Skye said through heaves, tears threatening to fall again. “I will never, ever search for gemfarms again. I promise.”

  “Alright,” Stenser said, smiling awkwardly. “That’s good… I guess. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

  “So, you don’t recognize the kid?” Kitsil asked.

  Stenser gave one last glance, then shook his head. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen this kid in my life before.”

  The world spun around Skye, the room magnifying before him as if he looked through a fisheye lens. The officers argued, and shouted, and threatened, but their voices intermingled, incomprehensible.

  Why was the doctor playing this game now? Why was this happening to him?

  “That’s it,” Kitsil snarled, hefting his sizeable astrum once more. “I’ve had it with your nonsense!”

  Yorem and Stenser stepped in to block the large drunken man. Skye stared in horror. This didn’t seem like a punishment. And the doctor wasn’t the type to mistreat anyone. He was the kindest man Skye knew.

  Skye turned to the ornamented bell, watching it float away. What have you done to me?

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Desperately, he shouted over the discord. “I can prove it! I’ll make it ring.”

  Kitsil pushed Yorem aside. “Boy! If you-“

  Dong!

  Kitsil shrieked, staggering back in horror. His astrum clanged to the ground. Stenser, Yorem, and the old man jerked in place, gasping, while the smoking officer toppled from his chair. They all gawked at Skye in pure shock.

  “Necro, boy!” the mustached man cried. “Where did you come from?!”

  “Did you see that?” Kitsil said shocked, not a hint of anger in his voice. “He just appeared out of nowhere!”

  Skye blinked. “What are you saying?” His voice quivered. “I’ve been here for a while. We were talking and I rang my bell…” He looked around for any hint of recognition.

  “Bell?” the smoking officer repeated. “Boy, either you drank too much, or I did. It was only the five of us when you showed up.”

  “Did you… teleport here?” Yorem asked, scowling.

  Skye’s pulse roared in his ears. What in the Void is going on?!

  “Are you alright?” Stenser asked, approaching. “You seem contaminated. Have you been to the Deeps?”

  Skye took off running, ignoring the questions and calls behind. Whatever the bell had done, it was not a pleasant thing. It warped their minds somehow, playing with their memories.

  He had to know what was happening to him. More importantly, he couldn’t waste time here and risk getting arrested. If those wardens knew a witness to their crimes had been caught, they’d come to silence him.

  He had to expose and stop them. To bring justice for the murder of his teammates. The only lead he currently had was the crime scene. He had to mark its location on his map before the path there faded from memory.

  Despite his pain, he ran through the narrow roads, through the deafening silence of the night, broken occasionally by snores and the hoots of hidden owls. Few people roamed the streets, and those he avoided as much as they avoided him. The cobblestones made a hazel and cinnamon mosaic across the floor, aided by the mud. It had rained during his absence it seemed, as the whole place was damp and had that musty, mossy smell that filled the air after a thorough downpour.

  He reached the Medhar’s residence, panting and wheezing. A clinic-home built into the face of a large stalagmite, four floors tall and winding. Impatiently, he knocked on the door until it creaked open.

  He hadn’t considered how annoying being awakened in the middle of the night could be. Mrs. Jella stood in the gap, cradling her swollen belly with one hand, her brown hair tied in a messy bun. Her green eyes blinked sleepily as they looked him over.

  “Yes?” she asked, frowning at his dirt-stained figure. “Doctor’s not here.”

  “I know,” Skye said, pushing past her and rushing inside.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Jella cried, astonished. “Where are you going?”

  Skye paused on the stairs. “To my room.” He stared at her in equal confusion.

  “What do you mean, your room? This isn’t your house!” she snapped. “Get out before I summon the constables to arrest you!”

  He froze. She didn’t seem to be bluffing, and she was too kind to participate in any scheme to estrange and hurt him. She’d practically been his mother for the past eight months. Yet, now she stared at him with terrified eyes. Like this was their first meeting ever.

  He felt like a complete idiot. He didn’t imagine the range of the bell would extend this far.

  As Jella screamed for help, he bolted up the spiraling stairs, toward his room. He slammed the door open, then froze in shock for the second time. No clothes lay on his bed where he’d left them, and no parchments littered the floor or were stacked on his table. Everything was tidy, as if the room hadn’t been touched in months.

  Panting, he hurried to the back of the room, pushing the wooden closet aside. In the dark, low corner, he reached for the small hole he’d dug to hide his stash of maps and gems…

  And found nothing. The wall was flawless. Not even a crack was present.

  Shaking his head, he stepped back, whimpering, “No, no, no, no, no, NO! This can’t be happening!”

  He stumbled out of his room and charged down the hall to Rierana’s. She would remember him, she was his friend, the one who knew him the most.

  Her clothes filled the chair, and hung on the stand in the corner. The room smelled of her perfume. But she wasn’t there. She had to be sleeping over at one of her friends’ homes. But where?

  Downstairs, voices rose as neighbors answered Jella’s cries. He bolted down the steps to find their neighbors, Mr. Karn and Mr. Farkle, trying to calm Jella as she wept and trembled. She pointed at him screaming, and they lunged to strike him, giving no time for explanations. Dodging and ducking between the two bigger men, he burst out the door.

  From their high windows, the neighbors shouted after him. “Thief! Thief! He’s over here!”

  He knew these people, and they knew him well. He’d eaten with them, played with their children, got teased by everyone. But now, they reacted as if he was a criminal. As if he was a complete stranger.

  Ahead, constables rode powerful gusts of wind, racing toward him. He ducked into an alleyway and collapsed, crouching low as he gasped for air. With his petrified body, he was beyond tired. He couldn’t move anymore.

  Clutching his chest, he reached inward, toward that faint note of anticipation, and summoned the bell.

  Eyes closed, he ringed it.

  Ding!

  When he peeked back into the street, he saw the people return to their homes, the constables flying back to their posts. Even his footsteps had vanished from the mud.

  It was as if he was nothing more than a ghost. As if he’d never existed.

  ?????Days until Green Eve: 62?????

  that for an inciting incident?