Chapter 20: The Sale

My father stood up as if his knees hurt.

The hall had gone so quiet that I heard his boots on the floor.

"Elder," he said. "I only wanted the house kept."

"You wrote to the Council that your daughter might wake silver."

"I did."

"Then a hunter came to this valley."

"I didn't know he'd carry a chain."

"You telephoned him on Saturday night to say where she had gone."

Alden turned his hat around in his hands.

"I did."

The Elder looked at him for a long time.

"There is one law in this hall older than the Writ," he said.

"A wolf who sells his own blood does not sit at any Pinecrest table."

He let that stand.

"And he does not sleep under any Pinecrest roof."

"Elder, please. That house was my father's."

"It is the Elder's table's now. The debt on it is called, tonight."

My father's face went grey.

"Tonight?"

"The scouts' gifts to your family will be returned from the sale."

The Elder paused.

"The rest goes to the pack's winter fund. Not a coin to you."

"Where am I to go?"

"That is not the hall's concern."

My father looked around.

He looked at the Pinecrest wolves he had hunted with for thirty years, and not one of them met his eyes.

He looked at Daphne.

She stood by the Hearth Stone with her arms wrapped around herself.

"Daph," he said.

"I'm not coming with you, Dad."

His mouth opened.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm not."

He sat down hard on the end of the bench.

The guards waited until he was ready, and led him out without touching him.

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