“Morgan's temper flared again, and she raised the staff again, intent on beating the answers out of him if she had to. "You used to be a chosen, too - I know you were. These were your friends, too, and now they're dying. Don't you care?”

“Morgan watched in shock as her friend fell, all of her anger draining out of her. She knelt next to him and rolled him onto his back. His breathing was ragged, as though he had to fight for every gulp of air he took.”

“[Morgan] raised her arms to protect herself, wincing in pain but keeping her eyes squeezed shut...Somewhere nearby, she could hear someone whimpering, and she suspected that she was hearing herself.”

“Many people have gotten lost out there and never found again. It's easy to get disoriented with nothing but white around you, even easier to freeze to death trying to find your way back.”

“Have you ever heard of someone actually being eaten by a dragon? That's just an ugly rumor that lots of people passed out a long time ago, trying to give dragons a bad name." He seemed to think about it for a couple of moments. "But you probably still don't want to upset any of them too much, just in case.”

“Morgan and Tilson looked at each other. Wit a shrug, Morgan put her shoulder against the cage and shoved. As the cage bounced down the steps, Morgan and Tilson ran after it.”

“The council said that we needed hep from a human... so here I am. You see," the haltija looked around to be sure that they were alone and that nobody else could overhear before continuing. "We need your help.”