He narrowed his eyes, sucked in breath, and dipped a little lower in the sky.

He heard the voice again, weak and pleading, growing weaker by the word. "Help. Help. Please."

After a glance at each other, the two dragons began to descend toward the ruined village. Tanin wrinkled his snout at the stench; it smelled like rotted meat, blood, and worms. He nearly gagged to see human skeletons litter the place, shreds of meat still clinging to bones. A flock of vultures were pecking at the remains, picking off what the demons had not consumed. A few vultures fled at the sight of the dragons; others were too busy fighting over a ribcage. The huts lay smashed around them, containing more remains, and everywhere spread puddles of demon drool.

"Help . . . please . . ."

The voice came from behind a few ruined huts. Tanin landed, returned to human form, and gestured at Issari. She resumed human form too and raised her palm, shining out the light of her amulet. They walked between skeletons, fallen chunks of clay walls, and toppled fences, following the cry. Tanin drew his dagger, prepared to fight any demon that might approach. A memory of the creatures on the path returned to him, deformed animals pleading for death.

Around a fallen brick wall—perhaps an old smithy—he saw her.

Tanin's heart wrenched and ice flooded his belly. At his side, Issari gasped and clutched his hand.

She was young, no older than ten, a little girl lying in the dust. Her lips trembled as she gasped for breath, her skin was ashen, and blood stained her blue dress and dark hair. Her entrails dangled out from her slashed belly, hanging down to the ground. She clutched the wound as if she could still survive, still stop the trickle of life. She met Tanin's gaze.

"They hurt me," she whispered. "I hid in the cellar. They're gone now. Please. Help. Help me."

Issari raced toward the girl, placed a cloak upon her, and stroked her hair, whispering softly.

She's dead already, Tanin knew, frozen in place, frozen in fear. It might happen today, maybe tomorrow, but she's dead already.

When Issari looked back at him, Tanin saw the same knowledge in her eyes.

He thought back again to the miserable creatures on the path. Kill us, they had pleaded. Kill us. Looking at this girl now, Tanin heard their voices again in his mind.

She's dead already. His knees felt weak. I have to do it. Painlessly. To stab her head. A quick blow. Maybe to burn her with fire. The girl began to tremble violently, to weep, and Tanin winced, wanting to do it, to end her suffering. It was the moral choice, he knew. She was dead already. Dead already.

But he could not.

He sat by the girl with Issari, and he held her hand, and he stroked her cheek.

"Sleep, child," he whispered to her.

But she only screamed.