Erin rushes to grab it, and I collapse on my bed. Any time I flex my fingers, the bleeding starts again. Luckily, it’s my left hand, so my dominant hand is still fine.
Cleaver hops up on the bed next to me and settles down, laying his axe-like head on my chest. I’m glad I didn’t bring him today. He might’ve attacked Aurora or drawn others with his inevitable howls.
Erin rushes over with her extensive first-aid kit and gently takes my wrist, looking at my hand. It’s got a jagged bite mark in the shape of Aurora’s teeth, the edges of which are turning purple and bruising. The gash in my palm starts to bleed again as Erin manipulates it.
“Avery, you might have to go to the infirmary for this. I don’t know how much I can help.”
“I can’t,” I moan. “They’ll put her down.”
“I thought this looked like a bite,” she says softly. “Aurora bit you, huh?”
I nod. Erin puts some antiseptic on the gash, and I hiss in pain and squeeze my eyes shut. Cleaver whimpers and nuzzles me.
“I’m fine, boy,” I say, using my other hand to scratch his ears.
“You’ve been doing so well with her. What happened?”
“There was something on my glove. Smelled weird. Freaked her out.” I wince as Erin cleans my wound. When I open one eye to peek over at her, she’s wearing a dark expression.
“I saw Piers with a spray bottle,” she mutters. “This afternoon, before creature handling.”
“Do you think it was him?” I ask. “Did he spray it on anything? Did you see?”
She shakes her head. “My ahool is in the C-chambers.”
“Piers’ creature is in W4,” I mutter. “He knows I’m in W2.”
“Asshole.” Erin shakes her head. “I’ve done the best I can.”
I haven’t been paying attention. I should have been watching him like a hawk instead of avoiding him. All this could have been avoided if I was just paying better attention.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts. I still don’t know how he knew I was running late this morning.
She’s wrapped my hand in bandages. “I’ll have to hide this somehow.”
“You should rest for now.” She packs her supplies back into her kit. “I still think you should go to the infirmary.”
“I can’t let them put Aurora down. Plus, I’ll lose points and time.” Just because I’m ahead doesn’t mean I can’t fall behind. I need to be more vigilant than ever.
Erin sighs. “Get some rest, then.”
The next morning, I grab some gloves and cut the fingers off. They hide my bandages nicely, but my hand still hurts, and if I move my fingers too much, the gash breaks open and blood starts leaking through the bandages again.
“You can’t function like that,” Erin says as I hurriedly re-do my bandages a second time. “You have to go to the infirmary.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll just try not to use it.”
She looks at me doubtfully but doesn’t protest further.
Piers immediately notices my new fingerless-glove look, and grins when he sees me in PW. “What’s up with the gloves, Black?” he shouts at me. People turn to look.
“Gives me better grip,” I say dismissively, but he turns to Owen and Bennett and nudges them. He knows.
Going through training is hell. I have to keep my left hand almost immobile, which is almost impossible. I get a few weird looks when I fall behind, but I claim to be working on some single-handed strength exercises. I’m easily the worst scorer in the class this morning, even behind Erin, thanks to this little stunt.
When Professor Davies asks for a volunteer to demonstrate proper technique, Piers shoves me forward, and Davies takes my shuffle for balance as consent. I’m forced to spar with her in front of everyone. Needless to say, she defeats me soundly.
After class, my hand is searing with pain. I stay in the dorm and Erin brings me lunch from the dining hall.