He was right. Of course he was right.
She drew a shuddering breath, then another. She let his steady presence anchor her and let the warmth of his body chase awaythe cold that had settled in her bones during the run through the forest.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.
“Neither do I.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “But we’ll figure it out. I promise you, Jessa—I will not let her die. Whatever it costs me, whatever I have to sacrifice—I will find a way to save her.”
She wanted to believe him, but she’d seen the truth in her uncle’s eyes. The medicine Dani needed was beyond their reach, locked behind walls of commerce and distance and cruelty.
We’re running out of time.
She didn’t say it aloud. She didn’t need to. He already knew.
CHAPTER 21
The small bottle sat on the rough-hewn table, catching the firelight.
Tarek stared at it like it was a serpent coiled to strike. Such a small thing. A few drops of pale blue liquid pooled at the bottom—the residue Jessa had managed to coax from the supposedly empty container. Barely enough to coat a spoon.
And yet it might be everything.
His hands shook as he reached for it. Not from fear. From something far worse.
You swore,the voice in his head reminded him.You swore you would never?—
The sound of Dani’s labored breathing drifted from the bedroom. Each rasp and wheeze carved another piece from his resolve.
Vows mean nothing if the ones you love die because of them.
Love.When had that happened? When had a frail human child wormed her way so thoroughly into his heart that her pain hadbecome his own? When had her sister’s tears started to feel like acid on his skin?
He picked up the bottle.
Jessa appeared in the corridor leading to Dani’s room. She looked terrible—dark circles under her eyes, hair escaping its braid in wild tangles, her face pale and drawn. She’d barely slept in the two days since returning from the village.
Neither had he.
“Any change?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. He could hear it in Dani’s breathing and smell it in the fever-sweat that clung to the air.
“The same.” Her voice was hoarse. “Maybe a little worse. I can’t tell anymore.”
He turned the bottle in his hands.
“I need this.”
“The medicine?” Her brow furrowed. “Tarek, there’s barely anything left. If we’re going to use it?—”
“Not to give her. To study.” He forced himself to meet her eyes. “I need to analyze it. Break it down into its component parts so I can understand what it does and know how to reproduce it.”
Understanding dawned slowly on her face, followed by a faint desperate hope
“You can do that?”
I used to.
“I think so.” The words scraped like broken glass in his throat. “I won’t lie to you. It’s been years since I’ve done anything like this. The equipment I have is primitive at best. There’s no guarantee?—”
“But there’s a chance.”
