Nothing But Bones

35: Back To Beaverdell

"You didn't tell him anything that happened to you," Elton points out, while Tiff is giving up on shoving her phone back into her pocket.

"There's no need. I've never told him stuff like that."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning we only got friendly like... five or six days ago. I was pretty resentful, given what happened."

"Right." Elton hasn't forgotten. "I can... see that."

"I mean— I knew him as the guy who called me Beefany for a year until he went into a coma— which didn't matter, by the way. The Beefany thing, I mean. Not the coma. The coma mattered."

He doesn't know what that means. "Beefany?"

"It's a long story. I... tripped. But I don't— I don't talk about that kind of thing past its relevancy, anyway. Wounds, I mean. He doesn't need to know Oneiron smacked me with a flame sword and told me I was pathetic and he was going to erase me and rip my soul from my body. He doesn't even know what happened in April, outside of the FBI supposedly arresting me and fucking up my graduation and prom plans— not that I was going to go anyway. I was going to fuck around in the woods. Even though someone asked me. My point being, there's no need." She pulls the fabric away from the wound again, more focused on what's happening there than what happened in the past. "I think I'm just going to keep losing blood until I pass out."

"Can't you.. I don't know.. heal?"

"Not... really."

"Fuck. So what do we do to fix—" He gestures to Tiff's chest. "To fix this?"

"I'm not really sure. I don't want to call on the Gnome for advice. I think he's too busy getting shot."

Elton taps on the steering wheel of his car, pondering the problem. "Oh! Maybe the book you got has something in it."

"I mean— maybe. But I'm not great at magic. Something about my blood— Even though I get something from the whole Guardian of Lake Wonder deal, it doesn't come as easily to me as it does to," she gestures nebulously out the window, "I don't know, other people I know. Darius Moore, that asshole. Don't tell him I said that. I could try, though. I think?"

"I don't know fuck all about magic other than what I literally learned tonight, but... I'll help if I can."

"I'd appreciate it." It comes out soft, genuine.

"Then I guess that's priority number one."

She shrugs. "Doesn't have to be. I could always install some plastic for the time being. I might be able to reconstruct my ribs, which would be pretty cool."

"It probably should be. I'll get us some food, too. The Big Beaver might still be open."

"Do they sell bandages there?" She gestures for Kepler, who has been hoarding the leftover stakeout donuts and the Elven Spell Tome at her feet, to hand her the book. After a bit of nonverbal arguing between the two of them, he hands it to her and shoves half of a chocolate donut in his mouth.

Elton looks down at Kepler, who is making sure each and every crumb of the donut has been accounted for. Dingus sniffs around and under Tiff's arm, eyeing Kepler and his ill-gotten treats. "Sorry, bud," Elton says, scratching his head gently over the middle console. "Don't got any for you, but I'll feed you when we get home."

"He can have, um— girl flesh. The hounds. They love girl flesh."

"What? No. He can't eat a girl. He probably would."