Clyde's Hollow Eyes were still active when he noticed it.
A faint golden glow coming from the remains of the Howling on the ground. Warm and pulsing, barely visible against the dark cobalt of the street, the kind of thing you would miss entirely if you weren't already looking at the world in layers.
He reached toward it.
Aldric's hand caught his wrist before his fingers got anywhere near it.
"The remains of a Howling are highly unstable," Aldric said, calm and flat. "Even after death the ichor inside can detonate. One wrong touch and there will be nothing left of you to bring home."
He reached into his coat and produced a pair of gloves, pale and slightly luminous at the seams.
"Lunar repellent gloves. Put them on first."
Clyde pulled them on and crouched beside the remains. Up close, through the Hollow Eyes, the golden glow resolved into something solid. A card, half buried in what was left of the Howling's dissolved form, its surface covered in cogs that were still spinning slowly despite the fact that nothing was driving them. At the center of the cogs sat an old clock face with Roman numerals, its hands frozen at a specific position, chains wrapped around the whole design and binding it tight.
He picked it up carefully.
This is an Astral Card. From inside a Howling.
"We will need to purify it before it can be used," Aldric said, taking the card from Clyde's gloved hand with his own. "The corruption from being inside a Howling leaves a residue. Once it is clean, it becomes usable in combat."
Clyde looked at him. "Combat? You can use an Astral card in combat?"
"You can use any Astral Card in combat, provided it has been purified. The method is straightforward. You offer your blood directly to the card and the Divine Ichor responds. The more blood you offer, the deeper the ability you can access."
So that's how he used the Briar vines earlier. He offered his blood to that card right there in the street.
Aldric tucked the card away. "You look tired. Go home and rest."
"Thank you, Principal."
Clyde straightened up and looked around.
Aurelian and Eira were already gone.
Wow, they didn't even say goodbye.
The street was mostly dark by the time he started walking home. Most of the lanterns had gone out in the mechanical night sequence, the cobalt light from above doing the remaining work on its own, laying its cold blue quality across the cobblestone and the building fronts and the empty market stalls that had been full of noise just a few hours earlier.
I wonder if Luchian ate the currant cake.
He pushed the front door open and stepped inside.
Luchian was at the kitchen table with a small pile of coins in front of him, counting carefully, sorting the coppers from the silvers with practiced efficiency, the tip of his tongue just barely visible at the corner of his mouth the way it always was when he was concentrating on numbers.
"Luchian, what are you doing?" Clyde asked.
Luchian looked up with a grin that took over most of his face. "Can't you see? I'm counting today's earnings. The carrots sold ten times better than any painting I've done this month!"
"Really?"
"Really." He stacked a small column of coins neatly and sat back, satisfied. "Vegetables, Clyde. That's the answer. People always need vegetables."
Clyde leaned against the doorframe. "Did you eat the currant cake?"
"Yes." Luchian's expression softened into something genuinely warm. "It was very good. Thank you."
"Good." Clyde pushed off the doorframe. "I'm going to sleep."
"You look terrible, by the way."
"Thank you, Luchian."
"Goodnight, Clyde."
"Goodnight."
He went to his room and lay down without changing, staring at the ceiling for about thirty seconds before his eyes closed on their own.