Chapter 20: I'm Asking

The Graymoor border ran along a stone wall at the foot of Cold Ridge.

The wall was waist high, with a white post at the gap.

We stopped the truck a hundred yards short of it.

The sun was going down red behind the pines.

Lucan got out and stood at the post with his hands at his sides.

He did not step over.

"It's Graymoor land from here," he said. "I've broken that law once in my head every day for a year."

"I know."

"If I cross without being asked, the Duke has his charge."

"Then I'm asking," I said.

He turned.

I took off my glove and laid my bare hand flat over the white post.

"Lucan Hartsmere, Crown Prince," I said, loud enough for the eight guards behind us to hear.

"I am the ward of this pack, and I ask you to cross."

"For what?"

"To bring back my aunt."

"Then I come."

He took my hand, and we stepped over the wall together.

I walked the last half mile alone, as the letter said.

Lucan and his guards went through the pines on either side, silent in their wolf shapes.

The hunting lodge stood in a clearing, long and dark, with one window lit.

The front door opened before I reached the steps.

Garrick stood in it with a lantern.

"Right on time," he said. "Where's the prince?"

"Home," I said. "He said it was a family matter."

"Of course he did."

"Where is Margery?"

"Inside, warm and comfortable. Come in."

I went up the steps and in, and the door shut behind me.

The main room was bare and cold.

Four men waited at the walls, and two had dart guns with grey tufts on the barrels.

Margery sat bound to a chair by the fireplace with her braid half undone and a bruise on her cheek.

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