Page 283 of Interion

The old man closed the first graph and opened another, this one dated seven years earlier.

“This graph is from when she first arrived.” He pointed at the screen—aside from minimal differences, the image looked nearly identical to the current one. “Do you remember the first time you came to me?”

Zion ran his hands through his hair, certain he'd have a heart attack before the day was over, and began pacing the room aimlessly. Of course he remembered. He remembered arriving at the veterinarian's door with a little bundle of cloth in his hands. He was desperate, and the shadows had gone mad. The delicate little creature in his arms was so small she fit in his cupped hands, looking up at him with large, round blue eyes. She grunted and sneezed, seemingly allergic to the fabric she'd been wrapped in. The moment he'd laid eyes on the little creature lying among the wreckage of the war against the chimeras, he'd felt an inexplicable connection to her. And there, standing in the rain of ash with a euthanasia syringe in his hands, he couldn't carry out the order to eliminate all existing chimeras.

So he'd disobeyed the king's order and was willing to face an entire army to keep her, since everyone wanted her dead. She was the last of her species. He'd had to break countless rules to bring her to safety and paid the price—six months' suspension from the army. Still, it was a decision he'd never regret.

“When she arrived, Kiara was a newborn. On the way here, she got sick, and the bones of her wings started poking through her fur.”

“Yes. She was mutating,” Owen said, and the two turned back to the screen. “We're facing the same situation, so her body's going to change. I believe the mutation was triggered by predation. She killed and tasted blood, and all signs point to chimera genes activating this way.”

Zion didn't know where to look, what to do, or what to say. Kiara was going to mutate. What if, when she woke up, she wasn't the same creature he'd raised, trained, and protected?

“There's no way to slow this down?”

“It's irreversible. Once it starts, there's no stopping it.”

“What do we do?”

“We wait, Zion. All we can do is wait until the mutation runs its course, then assess what's changed and how she reacts. I'm preparing a sedative, in case things get out of control.”

In case she goes mad and tries to kill someone.

In case she turns into a monster and the only option is to put her down.

The possibilities hung unspoken between them, and the mention of a sedative only masked the true message behind the words.

“And the wings?”

Owen looked away, staring down at his hands. Then he shook his head, and Zion braced himself for the worst.

“We'll have to amputate. That's the main reason I called you here.”

Zion felt himself sinking into despair. He'd still held out hope that they could save the wings, even knowing it was nearly impossible. Perhaps that hope was why the doctor had taken his time evaluating the situation and hesitated to reveal the solution.

“We don't have the ability to reconstruct a new wing. It's complex, and Kiara isn't an ordinary animal—her muscles and bones are different. Besides, some kind of infection is necrotizing the base of the wing, and at this point, it's already irreversible. So if we can't reconstruct the lost wing and the other one is in tatters, the only option is to amputate.”

The general scratched his head. He wanted to scream, but he wouldn't do that in front of the old man.

“There's no way to save the wings? Zero chance?”

He refused to accept the situation. Kyller losing an arm was bad enough.

“I'm sorry, but it's impossible. Even if I had the power, it would be easier to build new ones than patch this one up. I could keep the shredded wing, but it would be dead weight and hinder her movement. The chimera would lose her center of balance and suffer terrible pain as the muscles atrophied.”

“Both options are terrible.” Zion shook his head.

“I need your consent to proceed. I've laid out both options—now you need to choose and sign the papers.”

“I need a moment. Can I see her?”

“You can, but be quick. The sooner we act, the better for her.”

Zion massaged his right temple and followed the doctor through the corridors. Kiara lay on the metal surgical table. She was so large they'd had to push a second table against the first to support her head. Her fur had been shaved, and several wounds had been healed with the old doctor's elemental gift. Only one cut had been sutured, probably too deep for the healing power to handle. It ran along her side from her neck to the middle of her belly—sixty stitches in all. The general noticed that the stump of one wing was already bandaged and an IV bag dripped beside the table.

Owen closed the door and pointed to the clock on the wall before leaving him alone with the chimera. Zion approached, and only then did he find the courage to look at the remaining wing. It was ugly. The white feathers had been torn out in places, exposing lacerated flesh beneath. Worse still, the wing started straight but twisted outward halfway down, clearly broken. He slid his hand over the animal's mane, replaying all the happy moments they'd shared on the wall—how content Kiara had seemed when flying and racing with him.

“You were so brave,” he whispered to the creature who held such an enormous place in his heart. “So strong and dedicated. You saved our family when I couldn't.”