Gwendolynne
“You want me to treat your lizard,” I repeat, my voice flat. The familiar in question rests on Harrisford’s forearm, perfectly still and unblinking.
“Mydragon,” Harrisford says, scoffing. “Good lord, Chan, you could at leasttryto be more specific. Exactly what sort of vet student are you?”
My face heats again, and irritation expands in my chest like a bubble. “The type that sayslizardto differentiate it from the actualdragonsthat are stabled outside. You know, the enormous, classic, fire-breathing ones?” When a dragon is brought in ill or injured, they keep them confined in a series of fireproof concrete pens, tethered to prevent them from flying away. Occasionally the Mythological Creatures Hospital has to treat a wingless Chinese dragon too—those ones don’t breathe fire—but since they’re non-native we only ever get captive ones from the zoo.
As usual, Harrisford is acting like a typical myth.creat student:completely lacking nuance.
“I should think you’d be able to differentiate them given the considerable size difference,” he drawls.
I roll my eyes and then turn my attention to the lizard. “Well, what’s wrong with it, then?”
“She, notit,” Harrisford shoots back, echoing my words from before. “And she—I’m worried she got injured—”
“In the explosion?” It all suddenly makes sense. Harrisford’s familiar had been sat on his shoulder before the gala. She would have been there when the explosions hit.
I knit my brows, confused. “Can’tyoudo it?”
“No, Chan.” His lips twitch with something like amusement. “I’m not accustomed to handling things so…small.”
I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously. “Why don’t you take her to the emergency hospital?” Being open 24/7, it costs a lot more than the regular hospital, even with our student discount—but that wouldn’t really deter Harrisford, would it?
His gaze slides away from mine and he shifts the lizard up to his shoulder. “Well, I…” Seemingly automatically, he begins to stroke his familiar’s chin. She raises it slightly, arching into his touch. “If you must know, I wasn’t supposed to bring her. Familiars are banned from events such as these. You know, for security reasons.”
Inside my head, Percy utters,Bah!
“Oh,” I say, ignoring my cat. “I didn’t realize. I’ve not been to one before.” I guess it makes sense. Familiars allow their bonded humans to drain magic from the atmosphere, and in a crowded event like a gala, it could quickly deplete levels to zero.
His eyes lock on mine, cold and calculating. “Of course you haven’t.”
Chewing on my lip, I cast a glance at the lizard, who by now has turned her head and is regarding me with one black beady eye. “So you want me to check her over and patch her up without telling anyone why she was hurt? And in exchange you’ll, what? Keep quietabout my cat?” I let out a short, sharp laugh. “Harrisford Briggs, are youblackmailingme?”
He cocks his head. “What’s a little blackmail between friends, eh?”
Friends? Is that what we are? I weigh the word in my mind, frowning, finding it woefully inaccurate. We’re more like enemies. Rivals. Competitors. Nemeses.
Still, this is my one chance of escaping the wrath of Professor Kaur. My one chance to get away with all the rules that I’ve broken within the last six hours. So I square my shoulders, heft Percy’s weight into my other arm, and nod.
“Okay, then,” I say. “I’ll do it.”
Harrisford follows me to Saint Gertrude’s, which takes a while since we’re both on foot. We march along, carrying our familiars, neither of us saying a word. I’m still stewing over the look Harrisford gave me when I asked if he owned a campus bicycle.
Night has fully fallen, and the sound of chirruping crickets laces the balmy air. We’re walking through one of Seamere’s ancient, ornate outdoor corridors, and residual heat from the day is radiating from the stone. It’s abnormally hot for nighttime, even for a London summer, and I wonder whether this funny weather we’ve been having is somehow connected to the magic surge. I drag a hand across my sticky forehead, sweeping hair out of my eyes.
Is it much farther?Percy’s voice whines in my head. His tail jerks back and forth like a metronome that can’t keep time.
Unbelievable, I think.You’re not even walking!But he just lets out an impatient sigh.
Thankfully, the elaborate turrets of the hospital building eventually come into view, the stone grotesques leering at us from high up on their perches. Saint Gertrude’s isn’t a regular, modern vethospital. It’s an imposing, ivy-clad gothic structure, cracked and crumbling and held together by magic—much like the rest of Seamere.
When we reach the staff entrance, I set Percy down and pull out the big brass key that Jenna had once slipped into my pocket. She’d patted it, given me a knowing look, then sauntered off. The key slides into the lock without making any noise.
“You have a key to the hospital?” Harrisford’s tone is incredulous. It sparks with wicked amusement. “Two rules in one night, Chan. It must be your personal record.”
I turn to face him. Moonlight spills across the pavement, but his face is shadowed by the eaves. There’s really nothing I can do to explain this, to hide Jenna Rutherford’s crime. I only hope I don’t get her in trouble, too.
“Yes, I have a key. But”—I swallow, the movement painful—“you can’t tell anyone, all right? My supervisor gave it to me so I could lock up of an evening. And if you tell, it won’t just be me who gets in trouble…She will, too. It doesn’t seem fair, that.” I stare up at him, into his darkened eyes, challenging him.
