his fist, so the symbol of Jorek’s mother’s family would imprint on his palm. “Your mother,” he said, “thanks me?” His voice broke. He let his head rest on the table. No tears came. “My family is safe now,” Jorek said. “Come and see us sometime, if you can. We live on the edge of Voa, between the Divide and the training camp. Little village right off the road. You’ll be welcome among us, for what you’ve done.” Akos felt heat on the back of his head, Jorek’s hand pressing gently. It was more comforting than he would have thought. “Oh. And . . . don’t forget to put my father’s mark on your arm.
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