Chapter ONE - Weebly

Scabies ex vomitu meo evocata. Itch, conjured
from my sick.
The foul mess vanished from beneath his face, and
the stone street hummed along the length of his body.
He didn’t hear a scream this time, but the image of the
little girl vanished again. Ethan assumed that meant his
spell had worked. He would have preferred to cause
the man pain; he wanted desperately to kill him. But the
idea of such a powerful conjurer convulsing at what
would have felt like ten thousand flea bites, and
scratching his skin raw, gave Ethan a certain amount of
satisfaction. And if he could find a man on the street
madly scratching himself, he would know at last who
this conjurer was.
He picked up his blade and sheathed it. Then he
struggled to his feet, cradling his ruined hand against his
gut and clenching his teeth against another wave of
nausea. He fell against the side of the nearest building,
his head spinning, his body aching in every joint and
muscle. He felt the way he had after Sephira’s men beat
him in his room, except worse. Much worse. He
pushed himself away from the wall and staggered