Her grip on him suddenly tightened, her fingers digging into his waist with a surprising strength. It was the first time he had seen such a fearful expression on her.
Even when they were trapped in the burning tent, or attacked by the assassins, she never batted an eye.
"The Seal?" Rhys asked, keeping his voice even. "I have read about it. A barrier that separates the Wastelands from the Mainland. They say it protects us."
"Protects us?" Emma let out a short, bitter laugh that was devoid of all humor. "That is the story they tell the children. That is the lie they have built their entire world upon."
She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a low, intense whisper that was meant for his ears alone.
"The Seal is not a wall, Rhys. It is a lock. And every few years, the great sects offer up their most powerful and talented young disciples as a sacrifice to keep that lock from breaking."
