You can’t stop them from killing us, from trying to get rid of us. And each time they succeed, they get rid of five to seven generations. I help keep the numbers the same.

Just a year. One year. Stake me for a year and let me go. When I come back, I’ll work a year for nothing and pay you back.

Deep down in that pocket where his heart hid, he felt used. Somehow everybody was using him for something or as something. Working out some scheme of their own on him, making him the subject of their dreams of wealth or love, or martyrdom.