Chapter 18: The Stone Doesn't Lie

Thea's POV

My mother did not refuse.

I had bet she wouldn't. She had never in her life said no where people could see.

She rose from the front row and put back her veil, and she walked the length of the hall on her own two feet with the guards one step behind.

Two hundred wolves watched her go.

At the Hearth Stone she stopped and looked down at it, a flat grey rock with my old blood still dark in its grooves.

"This is theatre," she said, pleasantly, to the Council. "You'll see. She's a child."

"Place your hand," the Elder said.

He held out the silver blade.

My mother took it and cut across her left palm without a flinch.

Her blood ran into the grooves beside mine.

I put my palm down on the other side.

The stone warmed under my hand and began to glow silver. It had never hurt me.

My mother laid her hand down.

The glow stayed silver, steady, and the whole hall waited to see what it would do.

"Ask," the Elder said.

My mouth was dry.

I had practised this with Brigid two nights running. I knew the order. I would start with the ones she could not lie about.

"Did you tie the knot?"

My mother looked at me.

"I did."

The stone stayed quiet.

A sound ran through the benches.

"You took your mother's knife from her breastbone."

"I did."

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