Chapter 7: The Stone

The Stone stood alone at the end of the headland, taller than a man and black with age.

A ring of flat gray rocks lay around it in the grass.

At dusk the founding families gathered behind that ring with lanterns, and the wind off the sea tugged at their coats.

Conal parked the truck at the end of the track and walked me as far as the first rock.

"I can't go past here," he said. "The ring is for sworn wolves and the one swearing."

"Then stand where I can see you."

"I'll be right here."

He stayed on the grass behind the line with his hands in his pockets.

I stepped into the ring alone.

Gisela waited beside the Stone with a leather book open in her arms.

Her silver hair lifted in the wind, and she smiled at me as warmly as ever.

Torben stood a little behind her, white-faced.

"Isla," Gisela said gently. "You asked to be heard. Here is how a wolf is heard."

She held out the book.

The page was lettered by hand in dark ink, and I read it line by line before I let her take it back.

I, the undersigned, take my name from my mother's house and give it to the Lowell registry.

I bind my wolf to the keeping of the family. I will draw no lot and open no seal that the keeper has not given me.

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