“Small wonder she wasn’t up for housebreaking a dog.”
“She’s been in to see you, my mother. Twice tonight. My sister, my father as well.”
“Oh.” Blair patted her face, imagined how she looked. “Terrific.”
“So, to continue the tale, I begged for the pup relentlessly, and to no avail. She would not be moved. I had a good sulk about it up in the nursery, imagining running off with the gypsies where I could have as many pups as I pleased, and so on. And I kept thinking about the pup, and then there was this…moving inside me. And this light was spinning around. I was frightened, and called out for my mother. And barked.”
“You turned into a puppy.”
Her eyes were clearer now; he could see it, see the fun in them as he told the story. “Oh, what terror—and what a thrill with it. I couldn’t have a puppy, so I’d made myself one, and wasn’t that an amazing thing.”
“I’d make some crack about being able to play with yourself, but it’s a cheap shot. Keep going.”
“Well now, I went running out, and down the stairs where my mother caught sight of me. And thinking I’d gone and snuck a pup in the house despite her, she set off chasing me. I thought she’d hide me good when she realized what I’d done, and tried to run outside. But she cornered me. She’s always been quick. Hauled me up, she did, by the scruff of the neck. I must have whimpered and looked plain pitiful, for she sighed, deep, and scratched my ears.”
“Softie.”
“Aye, she’s a good, warm heart my mother. I heard her speak, plain as day. That boy, she said, what am I to do with that boy. And with you, she said to me—not knowing I was that boy. She sat down with me in her lap. When she began to pet me, I turned back.”
“And when she regained consciousness?”
“Oh, she’s made of sterner stuff than that, my mam. I remember her eyes popped wide—but mine must’ve been as big. I threw my arms around her neck, so glad to be a boy again. She laughed and laughed. Her granny, it seemed, had the same skill.”
“Excellent. So it’s a family trait.”
“Here and there, it seems. By the end of the week, her granny, who I swear was older than the moon itself, came to stay with us and teach me what I needed to know. And she brought with her a little spotted puppy I named Conn, for the warrior of a thousand battles.”
“That’s a nice story.” Her eyelids began to droop. “What happened to Conn?”
“He lived twelve good years, then went over the Bridge of Rainbows where he could be a puppy again, and play all day in the sun. Sleep now, a ghrá. I’ll be with you when you wake.”
He glanced over as Glenna came quietly in, and even managed a smile. “She’s gone off to sleep again. Natural sleep. That would be good, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes. No fever,” Glenna said after laying her palm on Blair’s forehead. “If she refused the medicine, I’d guess the pain’s lessened. And her color’s good. Moira says you won’t leave her.”
“How can I?”
“If it were Hoyt, I’d say the same. But why don’t you lie down with her, get a little rest yourself?”
“I might jostle her in sleep. I don’t want to hurt her.”
“You won’t hurt her.” Glenna moved to the windows, drawing the drapes. “I don’t want the sun to wake either of you. If you need me, come for me, or send for me. But I think she’ll rest easy enough for a few hours now.”
She put a hand on Larkin’s shoulder, then leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Lie down beside her for a while, and do the same.”
When he did, Blair stirred and turned, just a little, just enough so that her body curled toward his. As gently as he could, he took her hand. “She’ll pay for what she did to you. I swear to you, she’ll pay.”
Listening to her low, steady breathing, he closed his eyes. And finally slept.
In another room a fire blazed, and the drapes were drawn tight against the glass. Against the dawn.
Lora’s wild wails echoed through the room. She thrashed as Lilith, once again, slathered a pale green balm over the burns and the boils tha
t covered Lora’s face, her neck, even her breasts.
“There, there, don’t. Don’t, my darling, my sweet, sweet girl. Don’t fight me. This will help.”
“It burns! It burns!”