Chapter 36: Daphne's Knot

The Elder did not knock.

He walked up the steps of the Greywater lodge on my arm, in his blanket and his good coat, and pushed the big door open with his stick.

"I am the Elder of Pinecrest," he said into the lit hall. "I enter under the Hearth law, to hear a knotted wolf."

Nobody answered.

The long hall was full.

Greywater wolves in grey coats stood shoulder to shoulder along both walls.

They did not speak and they did not move, and every one of them watched the floor.

A fire roared at the far end.

By the fire, on a long couch under a quilt, lay Isla Gault.

Her face was bloodless.

Her chest rose and fell very slowly, and someone had folded a blue sweater under her head.

I knew the sweater.

Hamish Gault stood beside the mantel with a glass in his hand.

He looked well.

He looked better than well.

His shoulders were square and his skin had colour. His eyes were bright and light brown, and the grey in his hair looked silver in the firelight.

He looked ten years younger than the man I had shaken hands with.

"Elder," he said warmly. "You honour my house. Miss Corvane. I'm so glad you came."

I did not answer him.

I was looking at my mother.

Judith stood at the end of the couch with her gloved hand at her side.

In her good hand was the white bone knife.

The blade was wet.

"Where is my sister?" I said.

"She's here," said my mother, pleasantly. "Don't shout, Thea. You'll wake the girl."

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