Chapter 15: Luna Iris

The cabin doors banged open behind me.

The crew came out into the rain.

The cook in her robe with a skillet. The sisters in their sleeping shirts. The trapper with a lantern, his white beard dripping.

Iris looked them over.

"Is this all of them?" she asked. "I thought there'd be more."

"What are you doing on my ridge?" I said.

"Delivering this."

She held out the paper in its plastic sleeve.

I didn't take it, so one of Damien's men did.

He read it out loud in the flat voice of a man who'd been told to.

"By order of the Luna of the Silverfir Pack."

"The Signal Ridge lookout is damaged by fire and unsafe for habitation."

"The occupant, Faye Dacre, will vacate within twenty-four hours, so the structure can be secured and inspected."

"The lookout's not damaged," the younger sister said. "It's glass and stone. We were all in it Sunday playing cards."

"Secured," I said. "You mean boarded up."

"Inspected," said Iris.

"You mean searched."

She smiled.

"You don't have anything left up there worth searching for. Do you?"

The rain drummed on her umbrella.

I thought of the empty shelf under the north window.

I thought of her hands on Gran's albums, and something in my chest went very cold and very calm.

"You broke in," I said. "You took them."

"I've been in the valley all summer, Faye. Planning a bonding. Ask anyone."

"Gran's albums. Fifty years."

"Oh, the old picture books?" Iris tipped her head. "I heard about those. Shame."

The cook took one step forward with the skillet.

Abel put a hand on her arm, very gently.

I turned to Damien's men.

They were both pack. I'd photographed one of them holding his firstborn pup.

"You were in the hall the day I stood surety," I said.

The bigger one shifted his feet.

"You heard the terms. Read out by the elders. Signed in front of all seven."

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