A Blood Sacrifice
Joel, Freia, and I vacated the main square of Muniche shortly after the ironworker assaulted me. Joel suggested that we go outside to the commons to pass the rest of the day there. The sun sank toward the horizon and I had begun to tremble with belated shock, my mind replaying the drunken brute’s grasping hands, clumsy feet, and sudden downfall. Pictures of Augustin appeared in my brain again and again: his threatening stance upon the ironworker, his apparently meaningless dance with the golden haired woman, his last words to me before he disappeared. I realized, just as we reached the western gate of the city en route to the fairgrounds, that I was in no state of mind or body to remain with the party goers now. I could not speak or form a cognizant thought. I desperatel
