Chapter 22: The Silver Cane

The full moon rose over the ring the color of old bone.

Every Alpha in the north sat on the rock benches above the sand.

The Hollow women stood along the east rim with my mother among them.

Garrick stood at my shoulder.

Eli stood in front of me in the coat from the unopened parcel, and I kept my hands on his shoulders.

It fit him perfectly.

The envoy walked into the middle of the sand and lifted her hand.

"Under the Accord, no weapon enters the ring," she said.

"Knife, chain, club or cane. The captain will take them at the gate."

Down on the sand, the Ridgeline Alpha leaned on his stick and smiled.

"I am an old man with a bad leg," he said. "I'll keep my cane."

"Alpha, I named it," the envoy said. "I named it by its kind. Hand it to the captain."

"This is an insult."

"Then it is a short one."

For a long moment, he did not move.

The captain stepped onto the sand with her gray braid hanging over her shoulder, and held out her hand.

He gave her the cane.

She took the head in one fist and the shaft in the other, and she twisted.

The wood came apart with a dry crack.

A long bright blade slid half out of the shaft and caught the moon.

Every Alpha on the benches stood at once.

"Silver," the captain said, loud enough for the back rows. "In the shaft."

"It is not mine," said the Ridgeline Alpha. "A trick. A frame."

"Then the ring is void," someone called from the benches.

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