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Maybe the Hand of Light wasn’t once made of men who wouldn’t listen to reason, who would lead girls to slaughter if it meant their rituals were validated and their truth absolute. Maybe, Val thought, somewhere in the world was a Hand of Light chapter composed of women, or kindhearted men. Maybe there were other ways to slay these beasts—many other ways—and none of them would require the world to give up its bravest girls in sacrifice.
