Deadly Magic

Part Four

Once a far enough distance away from the market, Harry collapsed against a fallen apart well taking deep breaths.

"Oh my god, did you get a good look at his face?" He breathed out, laughing slightly.

"He was so angry. He has to feel so stupid, he believed everything i said. That was until you ruined it, Dusty."

Dusty must have known Harry was criticizing him because he jumping off of Harry's lap and hissed at him.

The boy had both his hands placed on his knees and was panting. Once his breathing was under control, he placed the palms of his hands together and closed his eyes taking in slow steady deep breaths.

Then he proceeded to stretch his limbs gracefully like he was well practiced.

"Sorry about that," Harry laughed. "I'm guessing that you are not used to running?"

"You should definitely be sorry for saving my hand from being cut off! And you're correct, i am not used to runnning from people. I do however race Clifford, my-" the boy paused, thinking hard, "-dog."

He was being vague, it didnt take much to conclude that the boy had spent his whole life in an estate.

"Where did you take me?" He asked skimming the area.

They had stopped in a alleyway between two abandoned buildings that had fallen against each other slightly. No one was there, just the three of them, dead vines still clinging to the once lively building. Dried up grass growing between the cracks of the barely paved road.

The only sound being heard is of that of the wind and a nearby fight taking place a few blocks over, shouting being muffled by the decaying buildings.

At that question, Harry realized where they had run to and how the boy must be feeling. Alone in a rundown place with a stranger in the middle of nowhere with not a clue how to get back to where they came from.

If he had been a normal ragamuffin, this is where he would of taken the boy to rob him of his valuables or worse, the prefect place where no one would hear his screams.

"If i told you, it would not be of much help," Harry said smiling, trying to be friendly.

He slowly stood up from the broken down well, waving his hands around as he spoke.

"We are standing in the residential part of Kiacia, for not the poor, but the poorest of the poor, the homeless" he paused for a moment to look around, "Where they did not bother to name the streets, however they go by names like, 'the alley by the sewage tank' or, my favorite, 'the stinky alley by the dead rat'. The closest major landmark being the temple over there, though it's now only ever used for shelter against storms."

The boy was frowning. He didn't look mad, more like he was trying to understand, sadden.

"Hmm, where did i lose you at?" Asked Harry. "Was it the 'rat' or the 'storm'? Perhaps 'stinky'?"

"It was the 'homeless'," the boy said sofly, whispering his voice cracking slightly. "People live in the old temple?"

"No, not everyday. People believe it's haunted... Speaking of homes, is there a place i can take you?"

It's the right thing to do after saving the pretty boy. Take the pretty boy home, refuse the reward for returning the pretty boy. Okay, maybe take the reward, that was if there is a reward. There is always a reward, right?

Let's be honest, they'd take one look at Harry and grab the pretty boy and send him on his way at knife point.

Harry only hoped the pretty boy lived far away so it would take at least a days travel to get him there.