‘And let’s say you pull them up, what state do you think they’ll be in after being dragged along jagged rock by horses. If the rope doesn’t break, their bones will.’ ‘Then, they die.’ She looks at me then, surprised. ‘And that’s okay with you?’ It is, and I tell her so. See, if it doesn’t work, it’s a quick death, and a quick death is better than this slow starving. Yet if, somehow, we make it, then it’s life. Maybe years of it, and so I think the risk is pretty low. Alekto smiles. ‘The wagon fits but a few.’ ‘A few’s enough. A few is everything.’
