Page 73 of Spark of Sorcery
She unscrews the lid and I squat to sit on the mattress in the small sliver of space beside the bed, watching as she takes a sip of the milk to check it’s not too hot.
The little dragon sniffs at the air and mewls.
“You want some, huh?” she asks it, then directs her next question to me. “Did you bring a spoon?”
“No,” I say, “I forgot.”
“Hmm,” she says, “never mind.” She dips her little finger into the milk and holds it out to the dragon. It sniffs at her digit and does nothing.
“He doesn’t know what to do,” she says, gently guiding her finger between its beak. “Jeez, that’s sharp.”
The little dragon starts to suckle, when he stops, she dips her finger in again and repeats the process.
“How do you know how to do this?” I ask.
“Oh,” she nudges her finger into the dragon’s mouth. “I once found a kitten in the forest. I guess it had been abandoned. It was a matter of trial and error to get it to eat. This proved the best way.” Her face darkens. “Then Muriel discovered her and … well …”
“Muriel?”
“My step-mom.”
“She was the one who beat you.” I say it as a statement. If the woman was cruel enough to harm a kitten, I bet she was cruel enough to harm her step-daughter.
Briony says nothing, fussing with the dragon.
“Would you like me to kill her?”
“What?” she says, alarmed. “Who?”
“Your step-mom.”
She chews on her cheek and I can tell she’s considering it. “No,” she says finally.
I’m glad she doesn’t make me promise, though. Because that is a promise I may not be able to keep.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Briony
Neither of us sleep much that night. The baby dragon wakes every few hours crying for milk and Thorne is forced to return to his tower in the early hours to restock.
“Jeez, for something so little, he has a big appetite,” I say, wondering if my plan to keep him is going to work out.
As the little dragon suckles from my fingers, I voice my concerns to Thorne. “How am I going to keep him fed? How am I going to keep him hidden in my room? And don’t say I should take him to the Headmaster. I can’t give him up.”
In the brief time we’ve spent together, I’ve realized for all his gruff, silent and brooding exterior, Thorne Cadieux is a big softie. Beaufort wouldn’t let me keep this dragon. He’d be marching me over to the Headmaster’s office right now. And Dray wouldn’t be serious enough to helpme. But Thorne seems to be someone who would happily wrap himself around my little finger.
“I’ll find him some food,” he says. “And I can magic him up some kind of cage.”
He looks over at the available space in the room.
“A cage?” I say, in disgust.
“It would be for his own safety,” he says. “If you leave him to free roam, he could hurt himself.”
“Or I could skip lessons and stay here to look after him.”
“And draw attention to yourself. And the fact you are keeping a baby dragon in your room.”
