Chapter 30

Netya thought of all the times she had heard the men of her village talk about how they would one day slay the last of the Moon People, the fruitless plans that had been made time and again to brave the plains, only to be diffused days later by fear before they could come to fruition. Was it ever worth risking so much on such a quest?

“I do not know,” she admitted.

“Nor do I,” Caspian said, his voice distant. “And it is an answer we can never risk getting wrong. A death every few years is the price our people have agreed to pay to avoid chancing something far worse. It is a sad truth that many do not see.”

It made Netya’s heart sink to realize the wisdom in his words. How many small evils people would be willing to tolerate out of fear. Sacrificial lambs to appease a looming threat, a battle that would leave many more dead on both sides were it ever to happen. The kind of fear that could make two clans enemies for generations beyond count. She found herself wishing