Chapter 19: The Silver Ring

Nobody agreed with him.

That was what I noticed first.

A hundred and fifty wolves stood on the Moon Stone, and when the Elder said "traitor," not a single voice took it up.

I walked out onto the white cloth.

"A traitor lies to the pack," I said. "Garrick just told you something that cost him everything he has."

"Child," the Elder said, "you are out of order."

"I have a trial right. You gave it to me yourself."

I looked at Torsten.

He opened his fist and showed the pack a small brass key.

"We took this from the Elder's honey tin," he said. "Beck and Stellan have been to his cabin and back."

Beck stepped onto the rock then, with the strongbox on his shoulder.

It was a plain iron case with a rusted lock.

He put it down at the Elder's feet, next to the bone-handled knife.

The scouts did not move.

They'd begun to look at each other.

"Open it," Garrick said hoarsely.

"That is private property of the law-keeper," the Elder said. "Open it, and you'll have broken the law one more time in front of witnesses."

"Then I'll break it," I said.

I knelt, and the lock turned on the first try.

Inside lay a second ledger, bound in dark cloth, and an envelope of photographs gone yellow.

Under them lay two thin gold wedding bands, tied together with a bootlace.

And under those, a small silver ring on a leather cord.

I knew it before I touched it.

I was six years old again, sitting on a kitchen floor, and a woman's hand was turning a ring on her finger while she sang.

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