“Sidra’s faith in us is profound. She gives us strength, as we give her ours.” “And don’t forget to add your blight. You gave her that as well.” Hap came to a halt. Torin took a few more steps before he felt shame, scalding the back of his throat. He paused, glancing at the hill spirit, who suddenly looked like he might crumble. “The wind,” Hap said, the grass withering in his hair. “It was the wind. He blew the fruit to her. He put it in her path, and I . . . I couldn’t do anything about it.”
