Tyrez pressed it to her, willing the crystal’s power to heal. But more blood trickled from her lips.
The truth hit him like a closed fist. She was dying.
“No.” He hadn’t even heard Sirki arrive. She was still in Dragona form and had a livid scorch mark running along her neck and shoulder. “I gots hits—it knocked Dani loosse.” Her face rippled as she shifted.
“Don’t shift. I need you to go for help.”
Her expression reflected his greatest fear—that help would never arrive in time. Tyrez had seen enough death to know it was the truth.
Panting breath announced the arrival of Jacques, hauling himself through the heavy snow, his breath fogged in the cold. He held one arm close over his ribs, but appeared otherwise all right.
“She doesn’t look good.” The Satyr’s voice was tinged with horror as he confirmed Tyrez’s fears. “I don’t think she’ll survive being moved.”
Dani was having trouble breathing. Bubbles formed at the corner of her lips.
Large tears slid down Sirki’s Dragon face, dropping onto the snow with small tinkling sounds as they crystallized. “No. Shes can’ts die. It’s alls my fault...”
“Sirki. I need you and Jacques to go for help. Get back to Arandag, and bring Razir I don’t care if he’s with Aranta.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Jacques insisted.
When Tyrez glanced at him, the Satyr shrugged. “She doesn’t need me weighing her down when she collects the Dragon brigade.”
Jacques’s determined tone surprised Tyrez, but he didn’t have time to argue.
Sirki’s scaled face contorted as she did her best to stifle her tears. “Dos yous wants me tos brings the healer?”
No Dragon healer could do anything for Dani, Tyrez felt that in his gut. “I’m taking her to Cara,” he said.
Jacques shook his head and repeated his verdict. “You move her, and she’ll die.”
Tyrez grimaced. He needed his sister gone. “Sirki, go. Razir has to see what happened here. We need to know how these Dragons died.”
She eyed him with doubt in her eyes, but then she nodded. With one last look down at Dani, she turned away. Three long bounds through the snow, and she was airborne.
The Satyr didn’t even glance at her, but rather kept his intent focus fastened on Tyrez. He cleared his throat. “You know that if you do this, being a prince will not save you.”
Jacques was many things, but he wasn’t dumb.
The penalties for transferring the Dragon virus to another were severe and uncompromising. His father would never forgive him. And if she lived—she might be bound to him forever.
Dani might hate him too. But without this, she would die.
Tyrez’s gaze dropped to the glittering crystals in the snow. “Sirki’s tears,” he said. “Collect them. See if you can get Dani to swallow them. If she can’t, place them under her tongue and let them dissolve.”
The tears were nearly pure crystal dust. If he could get it inside Dani—it solidified his decision. As the Satyr bent to retrieve them from the snow—each was about a half inch across, in every color of the rainbow—Tyrez gently lifted Dani’s uninjured arm.
It was the one with the diving Dragon tattoo.
The Satyr crouched over Dani’s face with his handful of crystal tears, gently prying her mouth open.
Tyrez held Dani’s arm aloft, cradling her wrist in his hand. He allowed his jaws to lengthen, just enough that his teeth could drop.
“Be sure, my friend.” The Satyr glanced back to Tyrez. His dark eyes were intense, and deadly serious.
The Dragon met it squarely, unflinching. “It’s her only chance.”
The shaggy head nodded. Jacques knew it too.
