“Yes, that is growing more apparent. The more we learn, the more I feel certain we are preparing to fight a battle that is already lost.” I keep thinking about Kamstead. “And what would make these saplings become so brazen, breaking a beneficial arrangement with Isembert that keeps them fed without risk, demanding the veins of immortals and then accepting turned children in place?”
“Desperation … hunger …” Elisaf throws out ideas.
“Or another alliance that benefits them more.”
“With the Ybarisans,” he gives voice to my thoughts.
That sapling who tried to take Annika knew Romeria. They were familiar with each other. A connection exists there, though I haven’t yet deciphered what it could be.
A high-pitched screech echoes through the valley.
“A hag. Now that’s somethin’ to run from,” Fearghal announces with far too much zeal.