Chapter 7: Every Jar

I carried the jar into the clinic at eight in the morning, in front of everyone.

Hattie walked beside me with the metals plate in a towel.

Rhys came behind us, and behind Rhys came two elders who had voted my way, because Rhys had knocked on their doors.

Lydia was sitting up against the pillows, eating toast.

Godfrey was in the chair by the bed again, and he rose when he saw my face.

"Child," he said. "You look tired."

I put the jar on her breakfast tray, between the toast and the tea.

"Your honey is full of silverroot," I said.

Lydia looked down at the jar.

For one moment her face held nothing at all.

Then it filled slowly with a soft, hurt confusion.

"Carys," she said. "What?"

"Every jar you ever brought me. Hattie tested this one an hour ago."

Hattie unwrapped the plate and held it up.

A grey stain spread across the middle of it.

"Silverroot," Hattie said. "It's in the honey. It blunts a wolf. If you give enough of it for long enough, the wolf stops answering."

One of the elders drew a sharp breath.

Lydia looked at Hattie, and at the plate, and at me.

Tears welled in her eyes and ran over.

"I don't understand," she said.

"I got those jars from the Hall kitchen, where they put them out.

"Anyone could have gotten into them."

"You brought me one every Tuesday and Friday since March," I said.

"Because I was trying to be kind!"