Oracle

Part 18

When they reached the stairs, John swept Jaspar up to carry him down, making Jaspar yelp in surprise before gripping on to the man's neck as they went downstairs. John laughed at him, making Jaspar pout. "You could have warned me, sir," Jaspar muttered, letting his head rest on John's shoulder.

"And be denied that lovely sound, never," John purred into his ear.

The noise of the pub dimmed slightly as the people spotted them enter but soon rose again as people fell back into their conversations. Jaspar was new but not quite interesting enough to hold their attention for a long time.

Jaspar was sat down in an armchair which he suspected was the same one he had been in for dinner. John, Jaspar hoped, patted him on the knees before a heavy but warm blanket was thrown over his knees. The blanket smelled of wood burning more than the thick smell of alcohol which filled the room. The blanket was comforting to have on since Elison must have taken the robe he had on earlier from him.

"What time is it?" he asked as hands smooth the blanket over him.

"10 pm," John replied, ruffling Jaspar's hair. "You can stay down here for an hour and then you're going back to bed," he warned gently, sounding way to paternal considering some of the businesses he ran. Jaspar just nodded, not about to argue that fact, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be downstairs in the pub without his bodyguard anyway.

"Wake again sleepyhead," Justice teased from close by. "Here's a glass of water," he said, passing a glass into Jaspar's hands.

"Thank you, Justice," Jaspar smiled up in the direction the glass had come from, as someone snorted from a little way off. Or possibly just quietly, given how close his voice was when he spoke next.

"This is a bar Justice. You should be offering the poor bugger something a little stronger than that at least," the man commented unimpressed. There were a few sounds of agreement from who Jaspar assumed were the regulars, ranging from teasing to honest disapproval. The sounds stopped as John coughed politely, apparently sitting opposite him.

"The boy is healing. Water is better for a healing body than booze," John said sternly. "Just because you all chose to numb your pain in unhealthy ways does not mean I am going to allow any of the people under my care to do so," he scolded.

There were a few uncomfortable scuffles at that the reprimand before someone blurted out, his voice slurring to show he had been drinking for a while now, "The butcher cut out his eyes. There is nothing left to heal." The man coughed, the hacking noises suggesting the man was also a heavy smoker as well. "Unless you got a contact?" he added sounding almost thoughtful. "Must be some sod in this city who can regrow eyes somewhere."

If he had been able to, Jaspar would have blinked in surprise at that idea. He knew that the bigger the city the bigger the supernatural draw and the bigger chance of finding unusual powers. "Contact?" he murmured as John made a negative sound.

"Nothing to my knowledge. I'm still looking for someone for Justice's leg," John admitted. "Any of you?" John asked. There was a moment of silence as people thought that statement over but no one came up with any ideas. "I thought not," John comment sounding slightly regretful.

"As far as Justice's leg goes, I have someone who can regrow hands but nothing else yet. They are improving. In a year they have gone from just a finger to a hand so maybe in a few more years," someone mentioned with a thoughtful expression. "But even the other limb re-growers I've heard of, I've never heard of any being able to regrow eyes. There is probably a black magic reason. The fact eyes and souls are connected thing. Most black arts people won't dare go into soul stuff because of the increased chance of corruption."