One year after I left Red Moon territory, I stood on the balcony of the Northern Institute of Healing Arts.
The buildings below were made of gray granite and warm glass. Healers had come from across the continent to study there.
The first class filled every seat in the main lecture room. I served as the institute's founder and Dean.
The Red Moon Pack had survived on the antidote. Income from half its mines now went north under the treaty.
Caleb remained its Alpha, though Red Moon messengers addressed their letters to my legal office and never to me.
Beyond the institute, Silver Moon families gathered for the Eve of the Great Hunt. Bonfires burned along the valley floor, and drums sounded between the pines.
"The fireworks will start soon," Kaelen said.
He joined me at the balcony rai
