"Oh, it's you," I breathe a sigh of relief. Malachi stays stone cold, his beady gray eyes boring into the side of my head. I hold my breath as I wait for an answer. I shift a little to my right, and catch his eye. He's afraid. I slide towards him cautiously, one hand on my dagger hidden in the contents of my cloak. I creep towards Malachi's back and muffle my scream. A gash the size of a dragon egg was etched into his skin, the edges bleeding with pus and a foreign purple liquid. The smell is atrocious, even from my angle and have to keep myself from gagging. Shivers quake up the sides of the mark and I am caught in another whiff of the horrid stench. It's almost too much for me to bear. I run in the opposite direction, bile clogged in my throat. I swivel around and see that Malachi is no longer in my presence. Calling out, I find that it appears that there was no one there in the first place. I sprint to the door and rush out, carefully following the directions Mr. Elite gave me. I was running out of time.