Page 91 of On Wings of Blood

I shook my head. “It's that young then?”

“Yes. Just a few weeks old. Naveen had one when we were young, but he got it when the pup was older. They aren’t supposed to be taken away from their litter when they’re this young.”

Naveen and Florence had grown up together. I’d forgotten. “So, he lived in Veilmar and had one of these?”

“No, that was before my mother and I came to Veilmar. When we lived closer to Naveen and his family in the country. Their dwarven settlement was underground, of course. Fluffins actually live underground. It’s rare for one to be up on the surface.”

Right. I remembered them talking about some sort of stairwell access to the underground city Naveen came from.

The idea of an entire race of people who dwelled below the surface was fascinating to me. I made a mental note to read up on dwarven culture. Right after I’d read up on fluffins. And dragons. And how to get my mother's soul out of my head.

And here I thought you'd forgotten about me,Orcades chided gently.Not that I'm not content where I am.A pause.That betrothed of yours is certainly a forceful man. Handsome, too.

No. Nope,I muttered internally.We arenotdiscussing that. Not right now. Possibly never.

Oh, all right.She sighed.But he would make a wonderful fae. Your grandfather would have loved him.

I clenched my jaw.That is not the glowing endorsement you seem to think it is, Mother.

I know you killed him, but Gorlois le Fay had his good points once,she began.

I cut her off. I had recently discovered a way to silence her. It was one of the accidental benefits of what Professor Rodriguez had been teaching me. Compartmentalization.

My mind quiet again, I watched as a soft glow spread from Florence’s hand, enveloping the creature, centering on its wound.

Fascinated, I watched as the wound closed slightly, but not entirely.

“A highblood did this.” She looked up at me.

I nodded in confirmation. “I think so. Can you tell for certain by looking at the wounds?”

“Someone fed from him. He’s lost a lot of blood. I can tell that much.” She stroked the fluffin’s fur. The creature’s eyes were half-closed. “But then they also did this.” She pointed to the long gash along the little pup's side. “Why?”

“I don’t know, Florence.” I shifted uncomfortably in my spot on the floor. “I sort of hoped you might have a guess.”

She shook her head mutely. “So cruel. So pointless. And why feed on a pup? Highbloods don’t normally use animals. It’s considered beneath them.”

I stayed silent as she reached for the kit she’d brought down from her room and pulled out clean bandages and a bottle ofsalve. Carefully, she applied the salve to the wound. The pup whimpered, its eyes flickering open again.

“I’m sorry, little one,” Florence whispered. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.” She glanced up at me. “I can’t heal it completely. I’m not that skilled. All I can do is stitch it and hope for the best.”

I watched as she worked, stitching along the gash, the horrible wound oozing blood onto the salve.

The little pup stirred slightly, letting out another weak whimper, his wide, owl-like eyes flitting open then closing again.

“He’s so little, so fragile,” Florence said sadly, as she wrapped bandages snugly around the fluffin’s torso. “I’ve done what I can but he’s still feverish. Whoever attacked him did more damage than I can heal. The fever might come down on its own. But...it might not.”

I crouched beside the fluffin pup, watching as he breathed shallowly. He seemed to be falling asleep.

“So what do we do?” I’d hoped Florence would have the wisdom I lacked. The magic solution. Something that would set everything to rights.

But when I looked into her dark eyes, I saw she felt as lost as I did.

She sat back on her heels. “We’ll let it rest for tonight. But we might need help–real help–tomorrow.” She hesitated. “One of the house healers would be best. Someone with more skill or stronger magic. If the fever doesn’t break, if the wound gets infected, it could get worse.”

The fluffin pup lay quietly, his small chest rising and falling gently. I pulled the blanket overtop, tucking it in around him. I thought again of the girl on the beach. I wasn’t going to tell Florence about her. Not yet. She’d been through enough tonight already.

“We’ll figure it out in the morning,” I said quietly. I examined my friend. She looked exhausted and sad.

---