Chapter 18: The Key

"Alpha Castelnaud," the keeper said. "Your chain."

Heath's hand closed over the little brass key.

"This is theater," he said. "My mother has been unwell since my father died."

He spread his hands.

"You can't take an Alpha's property on the word of a woman who needs a nurse."

"I can take it on the word of this Stone."

"I don't recognize this Moot."

"Then say so to three Alphas," the old woman said, "and watch what each of them does."

The tall man from the north fork didn't say anything.

He only crossed his arms and stood where Heath could see him.

On the other side, the orchard pack's wolves had come right up to the grass.

Heath looked at them.

Then he looked at me, and for the first time since the Gathering, I saw him count.

He unhooked the chain.

His fingers did not shake, which I found I hated more than if they had.

He put it in the keeper's palm.

"The key is for the Luna's cuff," he said.

"Then it opens nothing else," the old woman said. "Beta, bring me your case."

The heavyset man with the worried mouth stood holding a flat black case with brass corners.

He had carried it up the meadow for his Alpha, as he had carried it to every Moot for six years.

His eyes went to Heath.

"Give it to her," Verity said sharply. "Give it, you fool."

He held out the case.

The keeper set it on the Stone beside the cuff and put the little key in its lock.

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