Damn it Marcus! It'd been weeks since she saw him. He probably ran off on some adventure again and broke his promise. She was going to kill him when he got back. It was lonely here without him. She hobbled over to the window, the pain from the black rot shooting up her nerves with every step. Most days it faded to a dull ache, and on a good day she felt like her old self again, able to leap across rooftops and slip into crowds.

  Today was not a good day.

  She looked out over the market, the street vendors were hawking their wares, exotic fruits and fabrics, jewelry and scrolls, nearly anything could be found if you looked for it here. If only it wasn't so blazing hot! She missed the cool mountain breezes back in Rivosh. Not everyone cared for the Rivaini climate, but no one could love this dry heat!

  A crowd to the side of the street drew her eye.

  “I'm healed! Thank the waters!” A man yelled.

  Great, another scam artist. Katya thought.

  Don't the locals ever get wise to their tactics?

  Katya didn't pull away from the window though.

  More cheers and clapping came from down the street, along with an eerie green light.

  Ok, that's a new one. Might as well enjoy the magic show, it's not like I have anything better to do. Katya thought, reaching for her crutches.

  She slipped and they clattered to the floor next to her.

  “Damn it Marcus! You were supposed to stay with me!” No one answered. Her chest felt tight like string wound too tight. She grabbed the bed and pulled herself up.

  Today definitely was not a good day.

  Just getting to the door was a chore, and then she remembered the stairs.

  Nope, I'm doing this! She told herself as she made her way down carefully.

  “Sabachim! Would I help you?” The Sar'ketian innkeeper said when he saw her struggling.

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  Katya forced a smile. “Thank you, but I've got it.” All she had left was her pride and no one was going to take it away!

  The dusty streets at this point were practically abandoned. Had everyone gone to see the conman?

  The crowd was huge.

  Maybe Katya should have stayed in her room, she'd never get a good look like this.

  As she was turning away, a man in loose pants and a carmine vest gestured to her.

  “Ahhh! Sabachim! You wish to see healer, yes? This way!” The man steadied her with one arm and pointed with the other, guiding her to the backstreets.

  This was not what she expected. . . Did this conman actually heal? What were they selling?

  It was too late to turn around, but if this man tried to do anything untoward in the alley. Well, she had several daggers on her, and while it might be a bad day, she still could use them with deadly precision.

  Katya followed the man, her eyes watching the openings and shadows. She could see every ambush point easily.

  No one jumped out.

  Surprisingly quickly, the man had guided her to the front of the crowd and vanished, almost like some kind of spirit.

  “What in the hells. . .?” She started to mutter, then noticed everyone's eyes were on her.

  She felt her insides screaming at her to run, or limp, or crawl, just to escape the eyes.

  “Come here sister.” A soft voice called near her.

  A bald man sat on a stone bench by a gentle fountain. He wasn't Sar'ketian, was he a Kh'orrish tribesman? Age had made its tracks across his features, and his eyes looked like he had seen across distances, but they looked as if they were still searching for something.

  Katya, hobbled over to the stone bench and took a seat.

  Might as well see what is in store.

  The old man smelled of sandalwood. Why did Katya notice that? It's not what she expected from a Barbarian.

  The old man smiled gently.

  “The black rot, I have not seen this since my time under my kh’orrdanam. I'm sorry, it is beyond me to cure right now.”

  So he was Kh'orrish.

  “I know, no one can cure it.” Katya said. It was good she hadn't gotten her hopes up, so why did her heart ache.

  The old man laughed “I said it was beyond me to cure, right now. There is a way.”

  No. . . He was lying, he had to be a conman.

  “Today looks like a particularly bad day, may I help?” He asked.

  Katya nodded slowly. This man was trying to fool her, there's no way that. . .

  The old man placed his hands on her head and green light showered out from under them.

  The pain in her legs retreated, if not for a slight ache, she would have thought she was cured. The crowd gasped. They could see the black tendrils disappear from her legs.

  “What. . . What did you do?” Katya asked.

  “What I could sister. I wish I could do more, but there's preparations that would need to be made first.” he replied.

  It was impossible, no one could heal her. Every healer had told her so.

  “The old ways have their mysteries sister. Do not marvel. I have helped you. It should last for a month if you are lucky. If I may ask though, would you mind helping me?”

  For once in a long time, Katya’s heart felt light.

  Uncharacteristically, she responded immediately. “What do you need help with?”