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Ironteeth witch.” She flexed her fingers,
willing the stiffness from them. “The
Ironteeth are my people, too. Regardless of
what my grandmother may decree. They are
my people, Blueblood and Yellowlegs and
Blackbeak alike.”
And she would bear the weight of what
she’d created, what she’d trained, forever.
Asterin said nothing, though Manon knew
she listened to every word. Knew the Thirteen
had stopped eating to listen, too.
“I want to bring them home,” Manon said
to them, to the wind that flowed all the way to
the Wastes. “I want to bring them all home.
Before it is too late—before they become
something unworthy of a homeland.”
“So what are you going to do?” Asterin
asked softly, but not weakly.
Manon finished the strip of dried meat, and
swigged from her waterskin.