Unconscious, Harton did not see the people, who heard a woman's scream and came out or peered from the back doors and windows of houses and shops into the alley. They stared and pointed to each other at the ragged urchin by the fallen man, a pool of blood spreading beneath her. Her hands were upon the man's bloody throat, glowing and transparent like water.
"Murder!" Someone yelled out in consternation.
"That be a changeling! I see it with my own eyes!" The man who came out first exclaimed loudly, his pointing finger shaking.
"I see it, too. Her hands burn with the witch-fire." Another confirmed.
More curious people began to step into the alley from an adjoining street. The girl's shoulders hunched, trapped, as she stared from one fear-ful, angry face to the next. Her hands no longer glowed, but still held against Harton's wound. It took her another moment to separate completely, and then she stumbled to her feet away from the unconscious man on the ground.
Blood dripped accusingly from her hands along her stained, torn skirt. Staring alertly at the hostile people, she backed away from them a few steps, then turned and sprinted down the alley.
"Don't just stand there! Don't let her get away!" Jaben, the baker's helper, yelled to the gawking others.
"She killed that man. I saw it with my own eyes!" He protectively held Manita, baker's frightened daughter.
Most of the crowd then pursued after the changeling. Others crowded around its victim.
"He is still breathing." Someone noticed.
"Is he still alive then?" Another asked. The men were afraid to touch him.
"What happened?" More people demanded to know. Fingers pointed in the direction the changeling fled, and the story spread.
The changeling was fast. The stones of the pursuers missed her at first. She never once stumbled, until one of the stones hit her square in her back, sending her light body sprawling forward. She scrambled back to her feet at once and kept running, without looking back. She darted from the alley into a larger street, ducking under the people, who paid no attention to her, until the pursuers poured out of the alley behind her.
"Changeling! Changeling! Stop her! Stop that girl!" They screamed to the people ahead. Someone then tried to grab her as she ran past. Her rotten sleeve tore, and she kept running still.
She darted off the busy street into another narrow adjoining valley, and after only a few steps in saw that it was a dead end. Turning back, she saw the first of her pursuers cut her way back out. She ran to the farthest wall, turned, and beheld her pursuers with dark eyes. Another stone flew and hit her hard on her temple. She merely fell back a step, then looked up at them, blood trailing from her cheek down to her neck.
Her black eyes challenged them, burning with hating anger. Her body changed right before their eyes into a hideous form. The first of her pursuers braked, fearful to approach her. The others pushed them forward, until they saw her as well. They formed a wide circle around her, yelling threats and shaking their fists.
"Kill it! We must kill it, I say!" Someone yelled. More stones flew. But the demon turned and leapt up over the wall.
"Call the guard!" Some wise man in the crowd yelled. Within a mere quarter-hour, the warning bells rang, the gates swung shut, and the entire city was in an up-roar.
***
Unconscious Harton heard nothing, lying upon the white-sheets of a bed in Landon's home, where the apothecary directed men to bring him. There, he began to treat him. He wiped off the blood from his neck, and frowned, confused. It was obvious that the old man's neck had been sliced with something sharp. But the wound was shallow, and ended in well-approximated scars. Harton's breathing, too, sounded fair. And, although pale, Landon felt a strong heart-beat.
"... There is nothing I can do to help this man." He stated curtly.
"He is dying! That demon killed him!" Someone yelled. And the words carried farther into the street, the story growing more gruesome by the moment. The apothecary, instead, winced with displeasure.
"I can do nothing for him, because he does not need any help. He will recover just fine on his own. Now, will someone tell me what is going on?"
***
Willen Andales and the other junior priests were disturbed from their studies and prayers when the town bells began to ring. They heard violent knocking on the outer wall of their sanctuary. Andales was one of the last to come out into the court-yard of the temple to hear the news.
"A changeling attacked a man, Laeden. Vicious it be! And hideous! Its maw was still dripping with blood when it was caught in the act."
"Who saw this?" The elder priest demanded, mindful of sir Tolen's law about witnesses being required before any accusation could be acted upon.
"A dozen witnesses!"
"And the man? Is he dead?"
"Not as of yet, but he is surely dying. Apothecary Landon said so. He says he can do nothing to lighten his suffering."
"Willen..." The elder priest called to the junior priest. Andales hastened to approach.
"Go with them and see if there is anything you can do for that man. See if you find out the truth of this matter. And you, you ride to sir Tolen, and tell him about the changeling. It must be hunted down before it kills anyone else." The leader of the Turstone Order directed another junior priest.
Stunned by the unexpected event, Willen hurried out of the temple to Landon's store. He didn't need anyone to guide him. He knew exactly where it was since he made the effort this morning to walk and find it, planning to speak to the fellow expert about the herbal medicine and healing techniques.
Landon's store was only a short walk away from the temple along the main market street. Nearly there, brother Andales saw the crowd gossiping outside the shop. He noticed Harton's horse and cart on the side of the alley, unattended. His eyes quickly took in the torn-up packages of herbs that the man so carefully gathered, to probably deliver to him as he promised last night.
Next, his eyes fell upon a large pool of blood on the stony ground. He found himself flying up the stairs of the shop, elbowing his way past the gawkers. He burst upon the apothecary and his assistant, who were at that moment ushering the no-longer needed helpers out of the room. Just beyond, pale as death and bandaged over his neck, he saw the man he hoped not to see, laid out on the bed.
"Harton!" Brother Andales exclaimed worriedly, immediately noticing with relief that the old man was still breathing.
"How is he?" Andales demanded of the apothecary. Landon's assistant stared at the intruder auspiciously over his glasses, as though the young priest was some curious strange frog to have crawled upon his spot-clean floor. Andales didn't even notice him, his blue eyes urgently pressing Landon.
"He lost a lot of blood. He needs rest above all. And quiet!" Apothecary said in an irritated tone of voice. Andales tried to wrap his mind around that.
"Then he is not dying?"
"Of course not. How many times do I have to say it?" The apothecary scoffed.
He pushed the last of the people downstairs and out of his shop. He locked the door behind them, and then turned the store sign from "open" to "closed". Then, he turned around to Andales, and narrowed his already small, beady, intelligent eyes at him.
"I remember you. You are from the temple. You also practice the healing arts. Come, I want your opinion on that strange wound."
"Strange? How so?" Andales followed the man back upstairs to Harton's bedside.
"Well, take a look at this." The apothecary said, gently unbinding the bandage. Andales noticed the shirt in a basin by the bed. It was soaked in fresh blood. Seeing the direction of his concerned gaze, the apothecary shook his head a little.
"A lot of blood. But the wound? Take a look and tell me what you see." The apothecary offered. An-dales bent over the victim, then straightened out.
"This cannot be the wound. It looks... healed."
"Indeed. But, there are no other marks on him. I checked. Or, at least it still was a wound when I last looked..." The apothecary muttered, peering closer at the thin pink line that went around the man's neck.
"The only other mark is his old scar above his knee."
"This scar is new. I had not seen it, when I spoke with him last night." Willen Andales said with certainty.
"When I first looked, his neck looked as though it was sliced by a knife." Landon noted.
"See how it goes half way around his neck? But it was not deep, not to account for how much blood he lost. He shouldn't even be alive, with so much blood lost."
"Yes. It does look like a knife might have done that." Andales confirmed slowly, studying the pink scar. He noticed that now it seemed even less visible, as though the wound continued healing at an impossible rate.
"He shouldn't be alive." Landon shook his head again.
"What on earth happened here?" Andales whispered to himself in even more confusion.
"I don't know. All I heard was a scream. I looked out the window and saw men chasing a child away. A girl, a beggar by the looks of her. Dark, dirty hair. No shoes. They said that they saw her by the fallen man." Landon gestured to the crowd outside the store. "Idiots. They just stood there and watched him bleed."
"Master Landon?" Apothecary's assistant politely interrupted. His master and the priest both turned to look at him. The man's face looked blanched, perspiring. "I've seen a beggar girl earlier today. Two children came in the store, with Mr. Harton, to deliver your order. I think they were orphans and Mr. Harton was bringing them to the temple." The assistant stared over his glasses at Andales, his nose wrinkled, as though he smelled something bad.
"You let beggars in my store?" Landon prodded. The assistant made an overly forbearing face.
"They came with Mr. Harton, sir. I thought he hired the girl. She was carrying things for him. I kept my eye on them the whole time. They did not steal or touch anything. I paid Mr. Harton. I also gave him your new order, sir. And then Mr. Harton left the store, with the children. Then I heard men outside yelling about a demon."
"You didn't see it?"
"Of course not. I was busy going over Master Landon's receipts. I am not some nosy old woman, peeking out of windows because I have nothing to do." The assistant said indignantly.
Duellen Andales frowned, thinking hard and trying to put all the facts straight in his mind. He felt as though he was missing something.
"That girl was a changeling." Landon said with an involuntary shiver. "And he was bringing it straight to the holy temple. Surely, that is why it killed him. It is said that demons cannot abide upon the holy ground."
"Then why didn't she kill your man, too? Surely, a creature so vicious should have killed them both, and you, as well." The junior priest raised his eye-brows and glanced at the apothecary's assistant.
"No one would have found him here for a while... Why try to kill Mr. Harton in the alley, where others might see it?... How long would you say it was, after you saw Mr. Harton and the children leave, and hearing the scream outside?" Andales inquired of the apothecary's assistant. The man frowned.
"I don't know. Maybe a few minutes? The girl came right behind him. She could have cut his throat right away. The demons are said to be fast." Unar suggested. Andales shook his head uncertainly.
"That still doesn't make sense."
"Well, his purse is missing." Landon's assistant pointed out. "I saw him put the money I paid him into a waist belt, and now it's not there." He nodded toward the man. Brother Andales checked unconscious Harton. He noticed a rent in the clothing on his hip.
"It looks as though his money belt was cut off."
"Well, even a demon could find use for money." Landon shrugged. "Although... that beggar had nothing in her hands when I saw her running..."
"Look... That scar... It is still healing." With amazement, Andales pointed at the scar around the man's neck.
Both of the men leaned in to look. The scar itself was now visibly fading with each moment that passed.
"Well, if he was attacked by a demon, why be surprised by the strange wound?" The apothecary commented. "Although it really doesn't make sense. Why should a demon first try to kill him, and then heal him?"
"Maybe it was going after his blood. If there was no wound, no one would have known what befell him. He is old. But it was interrupted before it healed the wound fully..." Andales deliberated out loud.
"Yes, that makes sense." Landon nodded readily.
"Unless... What if it didn't attack him..." Andales said thoughtfully. And, starting with that one tentative thought, new probabilities opened up successively within his mind.
"Maybe it didn't try to kill him at all. It could have been someone else - a thief, or a vagrant. That creature might have been trying to save him. And that's when everyone saw it, and thought it doing harm. No one thought to stop and ask questions. Everyone knows that demons are evil. They would naturally chase after it. And of course it fled from them... I don't recall any mention of demons healing...Maybe it is not a demon. This is incredible!" Priest Andales burst out with excitement. "This could be the proof elder Gaedus sought for... If they are not demons...This could change everything... "
The apothecary and his assistant looked at him as though he suddenly lost his mind and began to speak nonsense.
"But everyone saw it change, duellen. It was not human. Surely, it was a demon. How could it be any-thing else?" Mr. Landon protested, surprised.
"It could be any one of a myriad of other creatures. Our ancient manuscripts speak of such. And if it is innocent of murder, if it actually healed this man here, surely that is proof that it is not evil."
"Well, when Mr. Harton wakes up, he can tell the truth of what happened." Mr. Landon noted. Willen Andales looked at the old man's pale face.
"That might not be soon enough. Please, send word to the temple when he wakes. I must go and speak with the elders at once. That creature must not be killed, not until we make sure."
The apothecary merely nodded, still uncertain, but respectful of a priest's opinion, and unlocked the door for the young man. Andales ran all the way back to the temple.
The elder listened to what the junior priest learned, but found it hard to believe.
"Impossible. A demon would never do such a thing." The older priest cut him off, incredulous.
"Exactly! Demons take life. That is their nature and purpose of being. They do not, cannot heal. This creature healed a man!"
"Might have healed..." The elder pointed out.
"Laeden, even now they hunt it, and they will kill it on sight, as the law commands! But surely, it is wrong to kill it. Especially if it did not commit the crime. Surely, we should first ascertain its true nature, before we blindly condemn it. What if the original determination is wrong?" Andales insisted.
"You, yourself, had suggested it. And what if these beings are not just 'non-demons', but also intelligent?"
"They cannot speak." The elder priest reminded.
"Mutes cannot speak, but can be taught to communicate by gestures..."
The elder priest frowned at the young priest, whose eyes shone with contained enthusiasm.
"If it is not a demon, it could only be a creature of God. And if it is also blessed with a divine gift of intelligence, then its life is protected by God. Killing it without cause would be a grievous sin... I know Tolen will understand this. You are right, Willen. This creature should not be killed. I will ask lord Tolen to capture it."
"And then, if we later find it to be a demon, after all, we could then destroy it without guilt." The young priest suggested.
The laeden of Turstone acknowledged him, then walked out and quietly consulted with the other priest elders. They listened to his reasons and supported his decision without argument.
The elder sent a messenger, who intercepted sir Tolen's party at the gates of Turstone just as he rode in with the party of his loyal men.
The knight heard out the request of the chief priest.
"Very well. If that is what wise laeden asks, I shall do so." The knight told the messenger.
"But I will not make any promises. If it attacks any of my men, I might have no choice but to kill it."