The Silver Wolf novel · Chapter 12 of 24

Chapter 12: Eighteen Days

The knife was heavier than it looked.

The blade was a hand and a half long and the color of moonlight, with a line of tiny letters cut down the flat of it.

I tilted it to the window.

For the silver, when she wakes.

I read it twice.

"Hesper," I said. My mouth had gone dry. "Is that me?"

"I told you," she said. "He is not what he says."

"You didn't tell me what he is."

"You did not ask me. You were busy."

I put the knife down on the table very carefully.

My hands were not steady.

I told myself there was a reason.

I told myself it was a ceremonial blade, a family piece, an old Guard tradition with an old Guard's words on it.

I told myself a great many things, standing in his cabin in nothing but a quilt.

The bed was still warm behind me, and I still ached from him.

Then I went looking.

I wasn't proud of it.

I started with the chest at the foot of the bed, and found shirts, a razor, and a lamp wick.

I looked under the bunk.

I went through his canvas pack on the nail by the door.

It held a coil of rope, a flask, and a worn leather folder tied with a cord.

It was heavy with old paper.

I pulled the cord.

The first page was a single sheet of heavy cream parchment.

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