him.
No. Women didn’t have magic so they couldn’t have a familiar, a focus for magic like his staff. This was probably just a pet raised by the woman from a pup. She’d called him “Puppy.”
If that was the case, the wolf’s health was important to her. The villagers had said, if they could be trusted to tell the truth, that he had to get past the witchwoman in order to find the dragon. Therefore, the woman’s goodwill was important to Jaylor if he wanted to find out anything more about dragons.
“Let me see him. I think I just stunned him.” Jaylor decided to try his few healing techniques.
“Get away. Haven’t you hurt him enough?” Her despair stopped him just short of contact with the wolf’s body. She probed at the front leg, which jutted at an awkward angle. The hum at the back of her throat intensified as she kneaded the thick fur.
Witchwomen had all kinds of tricks to make people believe they had magic. None of them really worked. His own mental probe revealed the source of pain.
“I can help him. Get around behind and hold his head. He might not bite you, but he will bite me,” he grumbled. She didn’t move. “Trust me, please. I know what I’m doing.”
His eyes locked with hers. He looked away first.
“Do you?” Her tone froze any good feelings he’d been having. This woman was beautiful. She had an aura that invited confidence. But Jaylor wasn’t tempted, not anymore. He’d seen her anger and despair when the wolf dropped to the ground.
“Do you have the brute strength to reset a dislocated shoulder?” He stepped back to allow her the distance she had deliberately set between them. “Your herbal potions and false chants won’t do him any good. Magic won’t help either. Not even the University healers can set bones that way.”
She glared at him as if deeply insulted. Then, mutely, she dipped her face deep into the animal’s fur, dangerously close to the mouth and huge teeth. Teeth that had so recently been aimed at Jaylor’s throat. He pushed down his instinctive fear.
“You’re a magician,” she said flatly. “I should have known. The dreams were so detailed, I should have understood.”
Stargods! What the s’murghin Tambootie did that mean? Silently, the girl shifted behind her pet. Her small hands gathered the wolf’s head onto her lap. The low hum came again.
Jaylor felt the soothing effect of her music. He was calm as he knelt beside the animal.
He shouldn’t be. A wild wolf was unpredictable even in the best of spirits.
He rested his right hand gently on the wolf’s injured shoulder. His mind sought the source of the damage.
When his fingers tingled, he knew he’d found the proper place. He applied pressure while his strong left hand encircled the paw.
Golden eyes opened and looked up into his own, with perfect trust and understanding.
Something in those eyes was familiar. They spoke to Jaylor in sentiments he was too nervous to understand.
“Careful now. He’s awake and this is going to hurt.” He pulled on the paw slightly, testing the wolf’s reaction.
Nothing. The animal just continued to stare, patient and controlled. More controlled than Jaylor felt under the influence of that golden stare.
Jaylor swallowed, clamped his teeth shut, and pulled. He felt the strain across his shoulders first, then his chest. Breathe. Must remember to breathe. He pulled harder. His other hand pushed with greater intensity. Sweat dampened his shirt and trickled down his nose.
“Move!” Jaylor grunted. He was tempted to stop and rest. He didn’t dare. The wolf was awake. Pain glazed the yellow eyes. If Jaylor relaxed, the animal would attack. Fear increased the pressure he applied to the joint.
“Move!” He grunted again. This time he visualized the bone sliding into place again, much as he had seen the cup fill with wine in the University cellars. With his thoughts came the sound of grating, like a rasp on stone. The ground beneath him seemed to vibrate
Aziz Ansari, Eric Klinenberg