Chapter 8.

Ferine carried Syl and the Dreen down all white halls. The Talaya's arms were full and Aure followed sulkily at her heels, yellow eyes searing holes into the back of Sylvester's head.

That alien stare, and the hatred behind it, might have worried Syl, if his attention hadn't been caught by the boy across from him, slumped against Ferine's chest.

The rose pink fur that had been patchy and chafed was now glossy and even. The once bloodied club of a tail was now as long as the boy was, slim at the base and fluffy at the tip, and curling around Ferine's forcep.

The boy's arms were thin, starved, and he had three claw tipped fingers on each hand. His face was small, and triangular, and tipped ears peaked out from the pink fluff on top of his head.

His eyes were even larger than Reja's, the fold in his lids reaching the area where a human's brows began. It was hard to tell his age, with a face like that, but his body didn't look older than fourteen.

Syl had been watching Ferine stand over the boy all evening; coating his fur in clear gel and injecting him with substances, before submerging him into a tank of white liquid. She'd pulled him out, long after Syl had thought him drowned, and rinsed him off with a spout of water.

"How could his tail grow back?" Syl asked tentatively.

Ferine smiled down at him absently and combed back his hair, but didn't respond. Like an adult with a pesky child, she ignored his questions, if she wanted to.

She probably thought that it would be a waste of time to explain such things to a pet. That he wasn't bright enough to understand.

The fact that she was probably right grated on Syl's pride and a small flush of anger heated his cheeks. But he knew his temper wouldn't result in anything good and his attention soon returned to the Dreen.

"What happened to him?" He asked again and Ferine's sighs were like a cool breeze.

"My brother found him in a raid. He was a plaything for a lot of bad people." She said and circled her thumb over one of the boy's clawed feet.

"Like a pet?" Syl prodded carefully, watching Ferine's face closely for any sign that he was overstepping. He saw it then, in the slight tightening around her red eyes.

"Nothing like a pet." She said waspishly and Syl hastily lowered his head and stared at his hands in his lap. After a moment, Ferine's fingers threaded through his hair again and he knew he was forgiven.

"Pets are treasured. Protected. This boy wasn't treated like a living being. He was shown no mercy at all. I repaired his body, but his mind could be broken. Euthanasia might have been kinder." Her voices were low and sad, like a gust of wind blowing across the ocean at night. "We'll see, when he wakes up."

Syl shivered and peered up at the Dreen.

The boy looked so peaceful, with his spindly arms curled against his chest. There wasn't a single wound visible on his body. They were all internal now.

Would he be sane, when he woke up? And would the Talaya put him to sleep, if he wasn't?

Syl's skin prickled with fear and he glanced down at Aure. The Kythe's bright eyes had fixed on the floor and his soft mouth was set in a grim line.

......

That night, Elvyre placed Syl on the foot of the bed, with a soft command to be quiet. Cynen was already asleep beneath the covers, breaths slow and steady.

Reja twined around the human and rested his chin on Syl's shoulder. Syl was thankful for the contact, as he watched Elvyre place the Dreen inside a cage of dark green metal.

The floor was cushioned with white and gold pillows and the Talaya tucked a white blanket around the boy's small form and shut the door with a faint click.

There was no lock that Syl could see, but Elvyre didn't seem concerned as he tapped a glass lamp rippling with unnatural light.

The light dimmed and the room went dark, without a hint of shadows. Syl knew he wouldn't be able to see anything, even after his eyes should have adjusted.

It was unnerving and he buried his face against Reja's silky neck, breathing in the comforting scent of his fur.

A lick brushed his jaw and Reja's flexible limbs firmed around him. A purr thrummed softly in his ear and warmth kindled in Syl's belly.

Reja might be demanding and breaking every personal boundary a human would establish. But he wasn't bad. He was just completely, utterly alien. But loving, in his own way.

Syl was grateful to have a friend in the dark, with the unknown around him and a boy locked in a cage, like an animal.

It was disturbing. He didn't understand the logic or the ethics in this world. But if the Talaya were so much stronger, and wiser, than his own people, then maybe they were right in this too.

.....

They all woke to a crash that night. Elvyre switched on the light and Cynen threw off the bedsheets with a furious buzz of voices.

The sheets fell over Syl and Reja's heads, heavy and suffocating. Reja yowled and clawed at the fabric, while Syl grabbed smooth handfuls, and together they managed to tug it off.

Cynen was gone and Elvyre was kneeling by the cage with a familiar silver device in his hand. The pink furred boy was awake and he was throwing himself repeatedly against the bars of his cage.

Elvyre opened the cage door and lunged, catching the Dreen by his scruff. The boy emitted a hoarse shout and struggled like mad, long tail lashing. His sharp little claws tore into the Talaya's wrists, but the device inevitably pressed to his neck.

The effect was instantaneous. The boy went limp and his huge eyes, a vivid turquoise, fell to a half mast.

Elvyre lifted the Dreen against his chest and kissed his pink brow gently. Even doused with drugs, that Syl had experienced firsthand, the boy hissed softly and turned his face away.

Elvyre's white brows lowered and he walked to the bed, settling back against the headboard with the boy in his arms. He reached for his bedside drawer and pulled out a cloth, running it over his bleeding wrists and dabbed the cuts with a salve.

Reja licked his nose nervously and his tail swished. He unfurled from around Syl and approached the newcomer slowly.

Syl felt an odd pang in his chest. Was it jealousy?

He'd never been close to anyone before. Not because he hadn't had the opportunity, but because he hadn't trusted the kids agenda; did they like him for him, or for his wealth and status? And the decent ones, like George, had been intimidated and kept him at arms length.

At least in this situation, strange as it was, he knew Reja genuinely liked him and it made him feel possessive. But it wasn't fair to resent a helpless stranger, who'd been through hell and back.

Syl pushed up on his hands and knees and followed at a crawl. The sheets were too slippery to walk on and he steadied himself by gripping the fabric.

Elvyre dropped the salve on the nightstand and pushed down the bedsheet to make room for Reja.

The Foll sniffed the pink boy's neck and scalp, tail lifting. The Dreen released a small rumble, almost a growl, and his thin body trembled.

Reja's violet eyes widened and then he was mouthing the boy's neck, a responding growl thrumming through his chest.

"Reja." Elvyre spoke sharply in admonishment and the Foll's growl immediately ceased.

"But he's challenging me." Reja lisped, tilting his head back and gazing beseechingly up at his master.

"He's just frightened, like Syl was." Elvyre spoke in gentler tones and kissed the Foll between his small ears. The Talaya's eyes lifted to rest on Syl and he arched a white brow. "Are you joining us?"

Syl hesitated. He wanted the contact of Elvyre's skin again, even if he wasn't entirely comfortable admitting it to himself. But lying next to a drugged boy seemed wrong.

"Come here, Syl." Reja had turned his head to watch Syl, purple eyes blinking slowly. He didn't smile, his face wasn't made to move that way, but the expression in his eyes was warm and inviting.