thought, and she staggered beneath his weight.
But the Salamander flitted in front of them, leading the way, and together they managed to stumble into the hallway and on to the next room. This proved to be a bedroom, but Rose could go no farther than the chair nearest the door. Cameron's weight was too much for her, conditioned by long walks though she was. Weaving like a pair of drunks, they stumbled to that chair, a huge, leather covered wingback. He dropped into it heavily, unable even to lower himself down slowly. She collapsed on the footstool, only now aware that she was perspiring with the effort of carrying him, pushing damp strands of hair out of her face. Her hair was coming undone, draggling down in untidy strands, and her suit-jacket had come unbuttoned.
She had a notion that the Salamander would know what was required now, and she turned to it as she fastened her jacket properly again. 'Get him what he needs,' she ordered it. It vanished, precisely as she had hoped it would, and after a moment to catch her breath, she rose to her feet again. Although feeling more than a little giddy, she set about lighting candles and arranging a table at Cameron's elbow while she waited for the Salamander to return.
It floated into the room supervising a levitating tray; somewhat to her surprise, the tray contained a large glass of milk as well as a piece of raw or near-raw meat and a collection of pills. She eyed the latter with misgiving, recalling what Master Pao had told her.
'Put that tray down on the table, then get me a kettle of hot water, a pair of tea-cups, a strainer, and the brown paper parcel in my valise,' she ordered it, and picked up the glass of milk.
Milk! Well, I suppose it is strengthening. But it is hardly what I would have assumed a monster would drink.
She took it to Cameron who lay as one dead, oblivious to his surroundings; he sagged back in his chair with his head lolling against the side-wings. His hood had fallen back again, and she was once again favored with a view of his head and face. His eyes were closed, and he panted shallowly, his tongue lolling out a trifle. 'Jason,' she said, steadily, I have something for you to drink.'
The eye nearest her opened part-way. 'Are you still here?' he rasped, rudely, without a word of thanks that she had gotten him this far.
'I am, and I have no intention of leaving just yet. Can you drink this on your own, or will you need help?' She held out the glass of milk.
His lips writhed, as if in distaste, but he brought a paw up to take it from her. His style of drinking was not elegant, but he managed without spilling it all over himself; his mouth and lips were more flexible than an animal's, which must have accounted for his relatively clear speech.
When he handed the empty glass back to her, though, his paw and arm were shaking. She set the glass down and began to cut up the meat for him, without asking if she should. Perhaps his normal mode is to tear it apart, but I don't think I could sit here and watch that.
He glared at her, but said nothing as she put the plate and fork down on his knees. He picked up the fork, awkwardly, in a paw-hand that shook like a birch-leaf in the wind, and stabbed at a bite. He conveyed it to his mouth without mishap, and swallowed it whole, wolfing it down without chewing.
Wolfing his food ... of course! If you somehow mixed up a man and a wolf, it might look the way he does! Now she knew-though she had never seen a live wolf, only stuffed specimens in museums and at the University-why those distorted features had seemed familiar to her. They were not wholly lupine, but they were certainly not canine. There was a feral ferocity there that no dog would ever display.
The Salamander reappeared with her kettle and the package of herbal medicines from Master Pao's shop. She extracted the white-wrapped packet from the rest, measured the proper amount into the cup and poured the hot water over it.
Cameron eyed her with misgiving. 'And just what is that?' he asked sullenly.
She gave him the cool look of mingled superiority and pity that had quelled impertinent undergraduates many times in the past. 'Medicine from Master Pao,' she told him crisply. 'He wants you to leave off whatever you're dosing yourself with and take this instead. I am inclined to see to it that you do, now that I have taken note of those quack nostrums you think necessary. Half of them are probably poisonous, and the others useless, and I intend to see that you at least try Master Pao's medicine.'
He paused in the very act of conveying another bite to his mouth, and gazed at her with astonishment, his jaws still open. 'And just how do you propose to do that? Pour it forcibly down my throat?'
She sniffed, and regarded the steeping tea with a thoughtful eye. 'I dosed a puppy for worms when I was a child,' she told him matter-of-factly, feeling rather like a governess with an unruly child to tend. I don't think I would have any particular difficulty with you. You can hardly hold up your fork; the puppy was considerably more active.'
He continued to gape at her, the paw holding the fork slowly dropping. 'By George,' he managed, finally. 'I believe you would!'
'Whether you believe it or not is immaterial, for the tea is done and ready to drink.' She poured it into the strainer held over the second cup, and waited while it dribbled into its new container. 'There.' She shook the last few drops into the teacup, and picked it up, handing it to him. 'Do you take it yourself, or do I tilt your head up, pour
