Chapter 12: The Kneel

Jasper tried to stand.

He got one boot under him, and his whole body shuddered.

He went back down on both knees with a crack against the stone.

"What is this?" he said hoarsely.

Nobody answered.

He tried again, with his teeth bared and his hands braced on the ground.

The white light lay heavy on his shoulders, and he could not rise.

"Father," he said.

Roland had gone gray.

He took a step toward his son.

The Keeper of the Moon Book lifted her stick and held it across his chest.

"No, Alpha."

"This is some trick of the old woman's," Roland said, loud and thin. "Jasper, stand up."

"I can't."

The pack began to murmur, and the murmur grew.

The Keeper let it grow.

Then she tapped the stone twice, and it went quiet.

"There is a page in the girl's hand," she said.

"It is the Hundred of the founders, and it is older than any of you. I will read its last line aloud."

I looked down.

The hundredth rule was in the looping script I had never been able to read.

"I can't read it," I said.

"No. It was only ever taught to Alphas."

The Keeper held out her thin hand.

"May I?"

I gave her the page.

She held it up to the white moon and read it in a voice that reached the tree line.

"Rule one hundred. The Hundred is read at the Harvest Moon before the whole pack."

"The one who kept them is raised."

"The one who gave them, and casts her down, kneels. And the one who kept them holds his name for a year and a day."