A nurse came to check in on Scotch every hour and at three o'clock, there was a knock on the door, but whoever it was didn't come in. It was strange because none of the nurses knocked and waited.

"Come in!" Scotch called. The door opened. There stood a tall Human with dark skin and bright blue hair with purple highlights. Scotch recognized the Sorcerer immediately. It was the one he saw in the portal going from the Second Ring to the First Ring.

"Hello, we meet again," the Sorcerer removed his hood and pulled up a chair to sit beside the bed, "I was told you had a horrible injury on your side."

"Yeah..." Scotch wasn't sure where this was going. The Sorcerer's black eyes turned blue, and they seemed to glow.

"I've come to heal."

"With magick?"

"Exactly."

"I'm not sure about that." Scotch noticed a spark of blue light flash between the Sorcerer's fingers. "I mean, it's not like I don't believe in it, or, I mean..." It was somehow mesmerizing to watch the blue light flicker around the Sorcerer's fingers.

"Your friend, Mason, I did the same. I usually don't heal others in this way because then you must think about what is fair or not, who to save, it becomes very morally complicated, if you know what I mean?"

Scotch nodded. "So why us?"

The Sorcerer let the light die and tapped his chin. "Hm, well, let me ask you, have you seen a citrine stone, by chance?"

"What's that have to do with anythin'?" Scotch didn't like the roundabout, maybe-I'll-tell-you-but-maybe-I've-changed-my-mind talk. "I don't like bein' left in a mystery."

"I think you know what I'm talking about. You have gotten close to the citrine stone and you will need that to prove whodunit. The citrine stone is the stone of justice. Ring a bell? Wow," He chuckled, "that's an old Human expression. Can't believe I still remember that fig."

Scotch remembered Luka had the citrine stone on a necklace around his neck. "It's got magical properties?" he asked, and the Sorcerer nodded.

"Whoever has it now will not only be to his or her disadvantage but could potentially have negative effects on what you're trying to accomplish. You should have the stone in your paws. Soon. Now, lift up your shirt and let me heal you. You and Mason are needed sooner than these wounds are willing to heal, and I make exceptions for good reasons."

Scotch guessed that if Mason had it done, he could, too. Besides, it would be cool to be able to say that he was healed by magick. In the Sorcerer's hands was a soft pale blue light that became darker and darker until it was nearly purple. When the light touched his side, Scotch felt nothing. 

He watched in amazement and wonder as the stitches came out by themselves, and the skin pulled together while the light seeped in the wound cleaning out all the ugly puss along with the caked blood on the sides of the wound and in his fur. The healing process was completed in a matter of ten seconds.

The Sorcerer leaned back in the chair. "All done! I wouldn't go poking at it or rolling on it for a good three hours though. That's how long it takes for the magick to work its way into the depths. If you really had to, it's okay, but not ideal if you want to be healed within the day."

Scotch gently touched the wound, and it was like nothing was wrong there. He often forgot this world had magick in it.

"Thank you," he said, still staring at it, trying to see if there were going to be any marks left. He could tell a little where it had been because his fur around the wound was slightly shorter than the rest. But it wasn't easy to tell.

"So, I have to find the citrine so that justice can be served?" He looked up, but all that was left of the Sorcerer were a few blue sparkles still lingering in the air. Scotch pawed the air, but there was nothing there. He had up and vanished.

And I still had questions. Like his name, maybe. Basic things. Scotch scowled at the empty chair. He also wanted to ask more about the citrine stone of justice because getting it would mean confrontation with Luka. As far as he knew, Luka and Maya had escaped the attack on Sniperhelm. They could be anywhere. And one or both of them would probably have a gun, but not Scotch. In fact, right now he only had his flimsy fists, having not trained heavily for combat yet at school. He needed to talk to Mason about this.

He sat up and found his strength had more or less returned. He swung his legs over the side and there was a knock. Christoph invited himself in with a glass of water. He widened his eyes for a moment and went back to a poker face.

"Mason wasn't faking it, huh?" He handed the water to Scotch. "Cool water for a heated wound."

Scotch reached for the water. "Thank—"

Christoph pulled back and smirked. "Beverage for beverage."

"Water isn't a beverage," Scotch argued and gulped down half the water, suddenly realizing how thirsty he was. "Beverage is juice, smoothies, beer—"

"Scotch."

"What?" He arched a brow.

Christoph burst out laughing and Scotch felt his cheeks go hot.

"Curse this name."

"I heard your sister's name." Christoph chuckled. "Butter."

Where he might have heard that, Scotch could name a few. "Butterscotch. I have another sister though."

"And?"

"Taffita."

"Taffy?"

"Yeah, we call her Taffy, but she doesn't like it. She's like the black sheep in the family, off doin' things and not tellin' until she's already there doin' it. She went off once to the deep countryside to become a silk seamstress for a month without tellin' our mother until it was almost time to come back."

Scotch didn't know why he felt like talking about his family so much, but once he started, he babbled. He talked about Taffita's sporadic outings but never to the city. Still, she made their mother worry. He talked about Butter and how they used to compete who would lose more or less fur by whatever age.

"And she lost a lot more than I did." Scotch chuckled at the memory of when Butter realized that Scotch wasn't losing any more fur.

"So, it's just your arms?" Christoph rolled up his sleeve. "I was born with skin."

Scotch gave a dry laugh. "We were all born with skin, Two Names."

Christoph pulled his sleeve down. "You know what I mean." He peered over at Scotch's side. "Does it hurt?"

"No, but it feels, well," He paused to find the word, "interestin'. Like it's still delicate, but it doesn't hurt."

"That's good." Christoph nodded and yawned. Silence followed. Both their ears twitched catching the same slight sounds beyond the door. Scotch finished his water and put the glass on the stand.

Now what? He stole a glance at Christoph and their eyes locked. "What are you lookin' at?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Were you scared?" Christoph asked.

Scotch didn't feel like admitting to Two Names. "N—"

"I would have been. We'll make them pay. Luka and Maya. They won't get away with it." Christoph's eyes shone with determination. It was weird to feel reassured by someone like Christoph. It wasn't too long ago that they were enemies.

Scotch sighed and stood. "Well, I'm going to see Mason."

"You remember the way?"

"I'm fine."

"Alright. Suit yourself, Beverage. I won't be responsible if you get lost and someone has to come get you at some information desk. 'Lost Sarvai Scotch, not the beverage, come get him. He's an eighteen-year-old ma—'"

"Shite!" Scotch jolted in realization. "My birthday's next week. I think." He checked his Bolt, and it sure was. His and Butter's birthdays. "Fignuttin', I don't know." With a sigh, he sat back down on the bed. He didn't even know what tomorrow held and he knew he wouldn't be able to send anything to Butter in time for their birthday.

"I hate that your birthday's before mine. I was born in the fall." Christoph scowled and curled his lip in disgust. "You get three whole months of being older than me."

"Yeah," he said absentmindedly. If he missed it, what would he explain to Butter? He knew she would understand, but not to any deep understanding. She wasn't close to their father as much as he was. Panic was beginning to set in as he also realized he hadn't sent his mother a letter either. He sent one shortly after arriving at Cataloogy Police Academy, but that was quite a few months back. She would be missing him.

When's this gonna be over? When can we go back to school without worryin' about Trinity or Alex or Luka or Maya? What if this goes on for another month? What if we still have to go back to school in the fall but nothin's fixed?

As his mind began to whir with uncontrolled thoughts of what-ifs, his brain went to his default thought—talk to Mason. Mason was good at grounding him where he needed to be grounded and going off on what-ifs with him if it seemed like it was good to get it all out.

A hand on his paw startled him to the present. Christoph was holding his paw again.

"What are you doing?" Scotch curled his lip. "Creep."

Christoph shook his head. "Send Butter a text, say you're busy on a case. Butter's home, right? She can tell your mother that you're working hard and will get back to them in a couple months at most. Moms always worry more than is really necessary. Once the case is solved, you'll have two things to celebrate about, won't you?"

That was true. He hated that it was true. Butter was home and she could tell their mother that he was working and would get back to them in a couple months or so.

"I hate that you make good sense," Scotch grumbled. He was supposed to hate Two Names but more and more it was becoming difficult to find things to despise.

Christoph shrugged. "It's easier to see the solutions to things when you're on the outside."

"True again." Scotch sighed. The panic had subsided. His mind was clear with what tasks he needed to do. He didn't even have to go talk to Mason which wasn't a first. It happened with Ginger, too. He smirked at the thought of Ginger and Christoph being alike in the sense that they could see solutions to things clearly. They couldn't be more strikingly opposite. Ginger was as villagetowny as you could get, and Christoph was cityfolk to a tee.

"Opposites attract," Christoph whispered as if he had just read Scotch's mind.

"You and me," he continued. "Total opposites."

Scotch grimaced. "But not attracted. We're like mortal enemies."

"Mmhm," Christoph slipped his hands away, "By the way, River and Ginger are having coffee in the cafeteria. Mason should be joining shortly. I've come to fetch you."

"Why didn't you say that in the first place?" Scotch groaned. He would've gone to Mason's room and find it unoccupied. Then he might even get lost. Following Christoph out of the room, he thought about him and Christoph. Scotch had no choice for a roommate. Christoph did. And it wasn't attraction in a good sense, but a bad sense.

"I hate your guts, Two Names," Scotch called after him.

"Whatever you tell yourself," came the reply from the hallway. It irked him.

Scotch hurried to catch up. "Ya hate me, too!"

Christoph cracked a smile. "Yeah, maybe."

Shite, he's so annoying.

"You're just so full of yourself thinkin' everyone likes ya, but guess what? They don't. Hey, Christoph!" Scotch tried to get Christoph to stop being so weird about this, but the idiot just kept grinning.

I hate his guts! Scotch scowled.