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 of salve. 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.

Florence slowly lifted her head and met my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? You have nothing to be sorry for, Florence. I understand why you left.”

“Yes, but I should have waited for you...”

“Stop.” I raised my hand. “Please. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I should never have made you come. It was so stupid of me. This is exactly what I was afraid of–of you getting hurt because of me.” I thought of Florence’s mother, Jia, and the way the Drakharrow students were treating her. It all came back to me.

“Maybe you were right after all,” Florence said, staring down at the floor.

I took a deep breath. “What do you mean?”

She looked at me. “I mean... maybe they are monsters.”

I was shocked. “The highbloods?”

She nodded. “All my life...” She lifted her chin and gave a brittle laugh. “Can I tell you something, Medra? All my life I’ve wanted to be one.”

“A highblood?”

She nodded. “They’re strong. Beautiful. They all belong. We blightborn... We don’t have that. Do you know what I mean?”

I wasn’t sure I did, so I said nothing.

“We only belong in terms of how we relate to them. And that used to make me feel safe. Coming here made me feel safe. They wanted me. Our protectors wanted me. They saw value in me. Some day they might even need me.” She gave a hollow laugh. “But tonight...”

Florence’s worldview was changing. And that might be a good thing. But I didn’t want her to go too far. Because her mother had been right. Florence’s ideals, no matter how naive I might think them, did protect her. They were a comfort. And I didn’t want her stripped of all that. Not in a single night. Not because of me.

“That boy. Kiernan. The one who did that to you. He’s dead,” I said quietly. “I thought you should know.”

Her eyes widened.“What? Medra, what did you do?”

“Not me. Blake Drakharrow.”

Her eyes widened. “Because of me?”

“Not just because of that,” I hedged. I doubted Blake even knew what had happened to Florence. Or if it would have affected him one bit if he had known. No, he’d done what he’d done to Kiernan because someone had threatened me. His property. Not because he cared about either Florence or myself. “Kiernan threatened me after you left. Blake... He threw him into the fire.”

Florence covered her mouth.

“Is that typical?” I still had no idea. “Do highbloods usually kill each other like that?”

“The rules are different for highbloods,” Florence said slowly. “I’m starting to wonder if there even are rules for them at all. But if Kiernan did something to threaten you then I suppose Blake could easily argue that it was a challenge to House Drakharrow’s honor and he’d been within his rights.”

“Kage Tanaka was there, too. I think it had something to do with him.”

Florence nodded. “There’s a strong rivalry between those two. But they seem to keep it in check. At least, they did before this.”

I decided not to point out we were only a few weeks into the start of term. There was plenty of time for things to go to hell.

“What happened to you was wrong, Florence. So wrong. I’m so sorry it happened tonight. I thought the party would be fun. I made a massive mistake.” To my shock, I realized I was near tears. “You could have died.”

Florence slid around the ottoman, careful not to disturb the sleeping pup. “Hey. Medra. It’s all right.” She put her arms around me and I leaned into the embrace, smelling the scent of the lavender salve she’d been using. She smelled calm and comforting. Peaceful. I squeezed her back gratefully.

When she pulled away, her face was solemn. “Besides, you already had it happen to you. You know what thrallweave is like. Having someone in your head like that... It’s so violating. When I got back to the dormitory, the first thing I did was throw up.”

“I don’t blame you,” I said, eying her sympathetically. “And you’re right. It’s a horrible violation.”

“I’m glad Kiernan is dead,” she said slowly. “Isn’t that terrible? There must be something wrong with me.”

“There is nothing wrong with you, Florence,” I said firmly. “I’m glad he is, too. That wasn’t the first encounter I had with him. He seemed like a nasty piece of work.”

“But it’s so final. He’s just gone. Forever. Even he didn’t deserve that. Did he?” She hiccuped and I realized she was trying to hold back sobs.

I slipped my arm around her shoulders. “You didn’t do it. You didn’t hurt him. Neither did I. It was out of our hands.”

Was it true? I’d wanted to kill Kiernan, yes. But I hadn’t done it. Blake had beaten me to it. I doubted he was sitting by the bonfire crying and wracked with guilt right now. No, he was probably drinking with Regan. Or doing other things.