Blood gushed around the hilt of her dirk, flooding over her, pumping out with the force that only an artery produced.
“Bekka!” Xhinna shouted. She put her hand around the blade, trying to staunch the flow of blood, but it did no good. With a grunt, she pulled her dirk out with her hand still wedged around it, the blade nicking her flesh as it came free. Heedlessly, she threw the knife to one side, moving her bleeding hand to cover the deep wound that pounded out more and more blood. “Bekka!”
The blond healer appeared in the corner of her vision, just beyond the Mrreow’s head. She took one look at Xhinna, at the blood—and Xhinna knew, even before Bekka shook her head.
“No!” Xhinna cried, pushing her hand harder against the wound. The bleeding was slowing, couldn’t Bekka see that? It was all right, it was—she looked up at Bekka once more, then caught the Mrreow’s eyes as they dimmed, their life ebbing.
And in that instant, Xhinna felt a feeble warmth from Razz’s lungs, as though the dying beast were breathing her life to her, giving her a gift, trying to lick her one more time with her rasping tongue.
“Xhinna,” a voice spoke beside her, faint beneath her own unceasing cries. “Xhinna, she’s dead.”
“No!” Xhinna cried. “No, she can’t be!” Her tears were flowing freely, her sight was blurry, and she pulled roughly away from the hand that reached for her arm. “No, she was trying to save me,” she cried. “It was a mistake, I couldn’t stop and—and—Bekka! Do something!”
“She’s dead, Xhinna,” Bekka told her, swimming into view. The blond woman was crying, too, crying for her friend, crying for the Mrreow that had saved her. The Mrreow that Xhinna had—
“No!” Xhinna shouted, refusing the truth. She felt another hand come around her waist from the far side and heard R’ney’s voice near her ear.
“Come away, Xhinna, come away now,” the brown rider begged her. Xhinna squirmed, her elbow digging into his chest, and he fell back with a grunt that made Xhinna feel even more guilty, but—
“NO, you have to help her!” Xhinna cried, heedless of the blood streaming from her own head wound. “She’s got to live! It was a mistake, I didn’t mean it! She’s got to live.”
“She’s gone, Xhinna,” a soft voice beside her said. Taria.
“I didn’t mean it,” Xhinna said, turning a pleading look at the green rider. “I couldn’t stop.” She shook her head, tears flying. “I couldn’t stop.”
“I know,” Taria said soothingly. “I saw. You didn’t see, you just reacted.”
“We’ve got to help her,” Xhinna said, turning from Taria back to Bekka and then to R’ney, who stood nursing the side he had fallen on. “We’ve got to save her.”
“We can’t, Xhinna,” Bekka said, stepping closer. She held a hand over the tawny beast’s eyes and slowly lowered the lids. “She’s gone, there’s nothing we can do for her.”
“Give me a bandage,” Xhinna ordered the healer.
Bekka’s eyes widened. “There’s no point, Xhinna.”
“Get—me—a—bandage!” Xhinna roared. In the distance, dragons bellowed in support. She felt a moment’s awe at that: She hadn’t known they would do that for her.
Tremulously, Bekka pulled a bandage from her carisak and passed it to Xhinna.
“And another,” Xhinna said, as she bunched the first one and stuffed it quickly under her hand into the wound gaping below.
“It won’t help—her heart’s been torn,” Bekka said as she passed another bandage over.
“I need something bigger—it’s got to go around her,” Xhinna said, ignoring the healer’s words. She heard a dirk being drawn and a sharp tearing sound beside her. She turned and saw Taria ripping her shirt to shreds. “Cut mine, too.”
Taria obeyed, passing Xhinna the bits she’d quickly knotted together from the wreck of her shirt. Xhinna held still for Taria to cut her shirt away; quickly she knotted the new strips to the end of the other shirt.
“I’ll help,” R’ney said, moving into her field of view and holding out his hand for the end Xhinna was trying to wrap around the large beast.
Bekka took the strip from him and continued it around the beast’s back, cinching it up in line with the wound, then passed it to Taria, who passed the last bit back to Xhinna. They repeated the process with the strips of Xhinna’s shirt so that the wrappings went around the dead Mrreow’s chest twice.
After that, Xhinna stood up. “I’m sorry,” she said, looking at the still form in front of her. “I didn’t know.” She glanced at Taria and her tears came again. “I was wrong—I should have listened to you.”
Behind her, Tazith started scooping out the soft sand, digging a deep hole.
“We’ll put her there,” Xhinna offered, glancing at the green rider. “If you don’t mind.”
“No,” Taria said softly, “that’s perfect.”
Xhinna nodded, then turned to Bekka. “Jirana?”
“She’s resting,” Bekka said. “She’s got a nasty cut that will need stitches, but she’ll be fine.”
“Stay with her,” Xhinna ordered. She sent out a call for X’lerin and the rest of the fighting wing, asking them to send half their strength here and set the rest on perimeter patrol. She moved around to stand behind the Mrreow’s head. She reached down, laced her fingers together under it, and began to lift with her knees.
R’ney moved to the Mrreow’s tail, but he couldn’t reach around. Taria joined him on the far side. They couldn’t budge it. A rush of noise flowed around them and suddenly there were more riders, each finding a place around the Mrreow’s sides and lifting: X’lerin, W’vin, J’keran, Colfet, K’dan—what was he doing here?
“I killed her when she was trying to save me,” Xhinna said from her position at the Mrreow’s tawny head. “I want to bury her here by the sands she fought to protect.”
The others nodded and heaved the body off the ground. They moved slowly, in silence, and gently placed the Mrreow in the hollow Tazith had dug.
“I’m sorry,” Xhinna said, half to the dead Mrreow, half to Taria. “I should have listened.”
She reached down and took a handful of sand and sprinkled it over the body. R’ney joined her from the other side, then Taria, X’lerin, W’vin, J’keran, Colfet, and K’dan.
They stepped away as Tazith gently pushed the rest of the sand over the dead creature.
When the hollow was full, Taria stepped up to her and said, “What are your orders, Wingleader?”
“Xhinna!” It was Bekka hurrying over to them. She was alone.
“Where’s Jirana?” Xhinna asked.
“You’d better come,” Bekka said, her eyes suddenly shiny with tears.
“What?” Xhinna demanded.
“She said for me to tell you she was okay,” Bekka said, her face crumpling. She gestured hurriedly. “You’d better come.”
Xhinna reached out and grabbed Taria, tugging her behind her. As they moved, she noticed that Taria’s belly was huge, that otherwise the green rider was gaunt, hollow-eyed with terror and exhaustion.
“You look awful,” Xhinna said over her shoulder as they moved.
“You’re all green with tunnel snake,” Taria said. She sniffed and made a retching sound. “And the smell!”
Jirana was lying on the ground, her eyes closed. Javissa and J’riz were beside her, the green rider’s eyes flowing with tears while his mother just stroked her daughter’s hair quietly.
“The Mrreow sliced her open,” Bekka said as Xhinna knelt beside the girl, reaching forward with one hand to stroke Jirana’s upright palm.
The girl opened her eyes and tilted her head toward her. “Laspanth?”