Chapter 23: The Cabin Again

We went to the cabin at dusk, with eight Ashmoor wolves behind us and Maeve riding in the cab of the truck.

I had asked for no one at all.

Bram had said no, and then the old Alpha had said no, and then Maeve had said she was coming if she had to walk.

So we all came.

The logging road was quiet.

The trees stood black on either side, and the clearing lay open ahead, and the cabin sat in it with a single lamp lit in the window.

I had not lit that lamp.

"Stop," I said.

Bram stopped the truck.

"There's smoke," Maeve said. "Under the green. Do you smell it?"

I did.

It was the green smell, wolfsbane, thick and wet.

It was not from a cup.

It came off the walls of the cabin in a slow haze.

"They've soaked it," said Bram. "They've soaked the boards."

"Six of them," I said. "Waiting inside. And the plan is..."

"The plan is to wait until you walk in, and then burn it around you."

Of course it was.

Crane had been stripped of his chair and his name, and the last of his men could not think of anything else to do with what he had taught them.

I opened the truck door.

"Stay with Maeve."

"Wynne."

"They're waiting for me. If I walk in, they'll show themselves. If you walk in, they'll burn it with both of us in it."

"I won't let you."

"You won't let me?"

He closed his mouth.

His hand went to his neck.

"I'll be at the door," he said. "And if I hear a single scream I'm coming in."

"That's fair."

I got out and crossed the clearing alone.

My grandmother's green cloak was wet with dew.

The steps creaked under me.

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