Aurora Meadows's Arc

Chapter 1 of 5

Aurora knelt in the dirt outside her cottage, pressing wet moss against the hippogriff's flank. Blood kept coming. She had built this whole life at Timber Lake to heal creatures like this one, but her garden still refused to bloom. Without those petals, she had only her hands and whatever she could find. The creature shuddered against the stone path. Its saddle was tooled leather, fine work, stitched with a crest she did not know. A short blade hung from the strap, and one stirrup was snapped clean. Whoever had ridden this animal had not climbed down willingly. She ran inside and tore strips from a clean sheet. Back outside, she packed the wound with yarrow from her kitchen jar and bound it tight. The bleeding slowed. It did not stop. Footsteps came hard up the path. A young man with red hair and a torn green vest staggered into the yard, one hand pressed to his own ribs. He saw the hippogriff and dropped to his knees beside it. "How bad," he said. "Bad. I need to move her inside." Aurora pointed to the small stable she had built for nights like this. Together they lifted the creature, slow and careful, and laid her on fresh straw. Aurora coaxed the small fire in the corner brighter for warmth. The hippogriff's breathing steadied. Aurora looked at the stranger. Blood streaked his sleeve too. "Who's chasing you?" she asked. He met her eyes and said nothing for a long moment. "Nobody chases me," he said finally. "They follow. There's a difference." The hippogriff was alive. But whatever had wounded her was still out there, and now it knew the way to Aurora's door.