Chapter 20: No Blood

The training yard filled in a quarter of an hour.

Every wolf in Greyhollow stood along the rails, the old on the benches and the children on the roofs.

Roderick waited in the center of the sand.

He had stripped to his trousers.

He had tied a strip of black cloth over his eyes.

A murmur ran along the rails.

"He can't see," said Verity at my shoulder. "He's been thinking about this for six days."

"He's afraid to look at me."

"Yes."

"He thinks if he can't see my eyes, his wolf will stand."

"It might."

I took off my father's black coat and handed it to the sergeant.

I wore the green wool dress and the sword, and nothing else.

Dorian stood at the rail with one hand pressed to his bandaged side, and Hester held his elbow so he would not climb the fence.

"Elowen," he called. "Don't kill him."

"I'm not going to."

"Blood will end the old law," said the Stone-keeper from the gate. "Whoever draws it, the other wins."

"Then I won't," I said.

"By blood or by surrender," Roderick said from the sand. "Those are the terms. Come."

I stepped through the gate.

The First Wycliffe woke in me, but I held her back.

I wanted every wolf in that yard to see me do this as a woman.

Roderick shifted.

It was fast and brutal, and he came out of it huge, black, scarred along the flank, with his blindfold still tied around his muzzle.

He came for me across the sand with his jaws open.

I drew the Ivorymoon blade and went to one knee.

His weight went over my head.

I turned the sword flat in my hand and struck his flank with the broad of it, hard enough to spin him in the air.

He hit the sand and rolled up, snarling.

The pack cried out.

He came again.

I stepped aside, and he went past me, and I hit him across the ribs.

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