Nikias couldn’t imagine simply ignoring a command from his parents so easily, especially at that young age.
If he had, he certainly wouldn’t have left the encounter with anything less than a black eye. Nikias wasn’t entirely sure what the reprimands were for. The children stayed far enough away from the dancers, and they didn’t seem to be in danger of getting underfoot.
Was it simply because it was dark out?
But then, in an effort to evade the pursuer, a little girl ducked, but she slammed into one of the braziers, starting to knock it over. There was a little boy that had been running by at that moment.
Nikias’ hands moved instinctually. The fire and metal slammed into his vitae shield, giving the boy the chance to hurry out of the way.
Only a second later, he was being scooped up into his mother’s arms, and while Nikias couldn’t hear from his seat, he could see her lips moving furiously as she reprimanded him.
The little girl that had run into the brazier recoiled. She was clutching her hand to her chest, and Nikias could see she was biting her cheek, face screwed up, desperately trying not to cry.
If she had a parent nearby, they didn’t swoop in to take care of her. It seemed very few people had even noticed, thanks to Nikias’ shield stopping the brazier from actually falling. It settled back on the ground on the edge of the square.
Nikias rose from his seat and began moving around the edge of the square, staying mostly out of sight. By the time he reached the other side of the square, the little girl had shrunk back into the shadows. Nikias could just barely see her sitting on the ground by a building. She had her hand pressed to her chest and she had her head tucked into her other arm, using it to muffle the pained sobs.
Nikias knelt in front of her, mouth surprisingly dry and throat tightening at a scene he knew all too well. But it was going to end differently for her.
Nikias called out a soft, “Hey, give me your hand.”
He didn’t know how to say it in their language, so he mostly just hoped his voice was enough to catch her attention. But the little girl didn’t seem to hear him, not beneath her sobs or the music.
Nikias gently reached forward, brushing his fingertips against her good arm. She jerked back, opening her eyes, and Nikias could see the large tear tracks on her red cheeks. Her wild chestnut curls clung to her cheeks. Nikias held out his hand and pointed to it with the other. “Let me see your hand.”
The girl glanced down at his hand, and she seemed to understand as she slowly held out her burnt hand. Nikias took her arm by the elbow, and turned it so her palm faced him, and he could see the harsh, red, blistering burn on it.
Nikias took a deep breath. He could do this. He’d been practicing. He certainly couldn’t leave her there in agony.
Nikias began casting. The little girl’s mouth fell open, even as she was still hiccupping with sobs. He suspected she’d probably never seen a Runai cast before in her life, much less a two-handed rune. Healing runes were complex—worse, they were a kind of complex Nikias had always struggled with. He’d never excelled at them, and they weren’t covered in depth on the command track. Only basic first aid was covered and a burn like this was different from a vitae burn. Those the Runai encountered far more often than a fire burn, given how little they used fire.
Nikias held his breath as he finished casting; this had to work. He watched as the blisters began to vanish. New freshly healed skin began to take the place of the burnt red. The girl’s face screwed up in pain again, and she let out another sharp cry.
Nikias hoped the short burst of pain would be worth the relief that would come later.
When it was done, the little girl stared at her hand, eyes wide with wonder, even as her cheeks still shone with the tear tracks. She flexed her hand a few times and then took her other hand and ran her fingers over it, gently prodding it, but not wincing in return.
She then looked up at him, a grin breaking out across her face. Then she started to cry again, but this time Nikias was at least assured it wasn’t from pain. Then before Nikias could blink, she’d flung herself at him.
Nikias’ eyes widened as she grabbed at his chiton, embracing him. Nikias so rarely interacted with children, and so he didn’treally know what to do, other than to pat her on the back and say, “It’s all right. Everything’s all right now,” even though he knew she couldn’t understand him.
Where were her parents? Why had she gone to hide in the shadows instead of running to them?
Nikias just stayed there until her sobs slowed again, and she pulled back. She reached up and scrubbed at the tears on her cheeks, and then she babbled something in her language. Then she was gone.
Nikias stood up, ready to go find Konstantin to at least see if maybe he could help locate her family, but that was when Nikias saw the little girl again. She was returning to a figure seated at one of the many tables, but he was slumped over the back. His eyes were shut and an empty bottle sat in front of him.
Oh.
No wonder she hadn’t gone to him.
Chapter 43
NIKIAS
Nikias had only taken a few steps when he turned and saw that his actions hadn’t gone completely unnoticed.
Bright hazel eyes lit by brazier fire pierced him in the darkness. Aimilia stood at the edge of the dancers and was watching him. Had she seen the whole thing?
