Nodding, I poured the contents of one bottle into a towel until it was thoroughly drenched, then handed it off. Lothair wiped Sibyelle’s forehead with the cold towel, hushing gently.
“Where’s Muriel?” I asked.
“She’s still in the other room and has resisted helping us,” snarled David. “Go convince her. Without her help, Sibyelle and this child could die.”
There was already so much blood smearing the inside of Sibyelle’s thighs and pooling on the blankets underneath. David handed me a small key, and I hurried away from the tunnel, back to where they had left Muriel.
A few dragons were stationed in the room with her. The unicorn slumped on her knees, her skin unwashed and greasy silver hair pulled back in a loose scrunchy, her fists balled on the stone floor. From her posture alone,
