Chapter 43: Judith's Second Table

"Then you will not mind the Stone," the Elder said.

He said it in the ring at Greywater, in front of three packs, and my mother's face went still.

By noon the next day we were in the Pinecrest Moot Hall.

The Elder had lifted the ban on her name for the length of one test.

Not a minute more.

The hall was full.

Pinecrest sat along the benches, and Strathmore wolves stood at the back.

A few Greywater wolves in plain coats sat near the door with their hats in their hands.

The Hearth Stone waited on its slab in the middle of the floor.

It was a plain grey stone, and it had burned my mother once.

Judith stood in front of it in her pressed grey coat.

She had walked all the way up the aisle with her back straight.

"Both palms," said the Elder.

"I have said what I said."

"Then it costs you nothing."

She took off her black leather glove.

The burn on her left hand was old and pink and tight, and the whole hall watched it.

She raised her right hand over the Stone.

She held it there an inch above the grey surface.

It shook.

"I was deceived," my mother said.

"Put it down."

"I never knew what the knot did."

"Then put it down, Judith."

The hall was so quiet I could hear the fire settling in the grate.

My mother's hand stayed in the air.

She looked at the Stone, and then she looked at me.

For a moment her face was only a woman's face, tired and frightened and older than I had ever let myself see.

Then it closed.

She lowered her hand and put it in her coat pocket.

"I will not," she said.

"No," said the Elder. "I did not think so."

He rapped his stick once on the floor.

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