The black ribbon on my wrist flexed in sympathy as I pressed my forehead against Max's muzzle, tears streaming down my face. He was warm at least, not the icy cold of death, though I feared he was close to it after all. When I finally lifted my head, his diamond eye opened and fixed on me.

"Syd," he whispered, musical voice harsh and heavy, his normally fresh, spring like breath full of decay.

"I'll kill them for this." My rage ...