Chapter 15: Sawtooth

Nobody said Shayla's name.

Nobody had to.

"Two years up north with the covens," Granger said finally. "And she comes home the day of a wedding with a necklace and a healer."

"And a knot," Wanda said.

I looked at the cord on the table.

Then I looked at Granger.

"The blade tip," I said. "You said it's still up at the pass."

"Under three months of dirt."

"Was there anything on the blade besides the crest?"

He was quiet.

"It was dark," he said. "There was something gray on the edge. I thought it was my own skin."

"Then let's go get it."

Wanda snorted. "Sawtooth road's been closed since the war. Alpha's order."

"There's a logging spur above the gate," Granger said. "My father cut it. Jagger doesn't know it's there."

"Tonight?" I asked.

He looked at me for a long moment.

"Tonight," he said.

Granger's truck was an old green Ford that smelled like dog and coffee. The keys hung on a nail by the door.

I put his chair in the bed under a tarp.

Wanda gave me her spare cane and a camp shovel and told me not to get anybody killed.

I drove with the lights off on the logging spur.

The truck ground up through the trees in first gear for an hour.

Granger sat beside me with his hand braced on the dash and gave me directions in a low voice.

"There's a washout. Easy."

I hit the washout. My teeth clacked.

"I saw it," I said.

"Sure you did."

The pass was white.

The snow up here had come down harder than at the Lodge. It lay six inches deep on the rocks, blue under a half moon.

I parked in a turnout and came around to his side.

"I'll get the chair."

"No."

"Granger, it's snowing."

"I'm not going to that spot in a chair." He opened the door and swung his legs out. "Give me the cane. Give me your shoulder."

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