Chapter 6: The Winter Moon

Moonwell Hall was one long room of grey stone with a round hole in the roof.

The winter moon stood in the hole.

Thirty couples waited on the floor in a line before the keeper's chair.

The keeper was a thin old woman in a white wool robe.

She did not look up from her book while she called us forward one pair at a time.

Joss walked in ahead of us and gave her the oilcloth tube.

She slid it into her sleeve without opening it.

"After the dissolutions," she said. "Sit, envoy."

Maud sat on the front bench, small and straight, with her shawl over her knees.

Clara stood at the back of the Hollin wolves, beside the captains, where she could see everything.

The dancers had finished their rite on the stone circle an hour ago, and their bells were still in the air.

Nessa squeezed my hand once and let it go.

"Ivy Penrose, mark-bearer," the keeper said at last. "Rafe Hollin, bearer's Alpha. Step up."

I walked to the chair.

Rafe walked up beside me, and he stood closer than he had in a month.

He smelled of snow and horse and the pine tar from his saddle.

"Last chance," he said, very low.

"No."

"I'll give you whatever you want."

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