Falling silent at that, Eva glanced down at the coiled basilisk. Juliana had mentioned that they had only created a handful of basilisk replicas. And each replica needed an imprint from the origin species.
Eva was no magizoologist, but she had a feeling that basilisks were not the most common of snakes nor the easiest to work with. They probably needed all kinds of special equipment just to ensure safety against a stray glance at their eyes. And then there was venom and the pure crushing power of the rest of their body.
“You got one,” Eva asked, “as a gift? What kind of creature is it?”
“A winged manticore. Something similar to a sphinx though far more ferocious. Manticores are not one of their cheaper products. It came as quite the surprise, really.”
“Oh?”
“Shortly after I dropped out of the guild’s training program, Genoa stopped by. She had it all wrapped up and basically thrust it in my face saying, ‘here, sorry.'”
Eva frowned. “Sorry?”
“She may have been partially responsible for a handful of the trainees leaving the guild. Though in retrospect, she couldn’t have known what would happen. It is, however, something of a long story. Regardless, to this day, I still don’t know if she was feeling guilty or if she merely wanted to remain on friendly terms. Either way, we met up several times for lunch or, in the earlier days, an impromptu spar. Became friends through that.”
Zoe, after finishing speaking, got a distant look in her eyes. As if the world around her just disappeared and left nothing to stare into but space.
Eva was mostly certain that Zoe was far too young to have that look on her face. “I had been wondering how you two knew each other,” she said after a moment of silence. “You are like thirty or forty years younger, aren’t you?”
Zoe’s faraway look turned to a low-effort glare. “I doubt she would appreciate being called so old.”
With another sigh, Zoe picked up an essay. “Anyway, I don’t know the answer to your problem. Maybe you could ask Carlos when he comes by.”
“Maybe.” Telling him that she had modified their gift might not go over so well, especially if they actually had risked their life to imprint the basilisk.
Before Eva could think to pull out her book, the door to the women’s ward slammed open.
Devon, old trench coat and all, walked inside with heavy footsteps.
Without waiting to be acknowledged, he tossed a vial in Eva’s direction.
She plucked it out of the air, careful to avoid crushing it on accident, and looked over the contents.
Blood, but she had known that from the moment it entered her sixth sense. It was light red. Likely human. Freshly drawn, she would guess.
Eva glanced up at Devon with an eyebrow raised.
“Add it to your wards,” he said as he turned his back to her. “Got an emergency case coming in.”
She wanted to ask more, but he was already gone. For a moment, she considered not adding it. What if he was bringing something dangerous into her home?
With an internal chuckle, Eva dismissed that possibility. If there was one thing she could count on no matter what, it was that Devon wouldn’t do a thing to harm his precious test subject.
Obliging him, Eva got out of her seat and went to her room. Adding the blood to the wards took mere seconds. As soon as she had finished, she returned to the common room and waited.
Zoe had leaned forward in her seat. Her papers had been set to the side as she fiddled with her dagger. Worry lines riddled her forehead.
Eva gave her a sympathetic shrug. ‘Emergency case’ wasn’t very descriptive.
They didn’t have to wait long. Devon was back through the door less than a minute later. Perhaps not in quite as dramatic of an entrance, but Eva couldn’t help but stare at him.
Not him.
What really drew the eye was what he carried in his arms.
Bundled up in a patchwork coat was a child, maybe half as old as Eva, fast asleep. A half-full intravenous fluid bag hung from Devon’s shoulder, pinned up with a few bobby pins. The most striking thing about the child was his utter lack of hair and gaunt, pale skin.
After taking one look around the room and not finding what he was looking for, Devon barked out, “Eva. Fetch Arachne and get everything set up. As soon we finish your treatment, we’re starting on this kid.”
Zoe was on her feet in a flash, dagger drawn and pointed at Devon. “Kid? What is he doing here?
Devon just shrugged. His tentacle arm moved in a very inhuman manner beneath his trench coat. During his shrug, the kid’s arm flopped up in front of Devon. Using his tentacle, he maneuvered the wrist out of the ragged coat. A light blue wristband just about fell off the kid’s bony wrist.
“Jones, Simon D. Blood type A positive, entrusted to Doctor Paul Johnson. No allergies. No parents listed.”
Sparks started growing on the end of Zoe’s dagger. A few managed to escape her control and bolted straight for the ground–burning through a handful of scattered essays on their way to oblivion.
“You kidnapped someone’s child from a hospital?”
