Chapter 127

I slept through the rest of that day and all of the night, and woke at noon stiff and slow, with Lyra sitting on the end of the cot, watching me as if I were a pot that might boil over.

“Your nose bled on the pillow,” she said. “Nana changed it twice. She said if you got up before dark she’d sit on you.”

“What time is it?”

“Late enough.” She looked at the window, at the grey light over the stable roofs. “They’re sitting at three. For me.”

I knew. The eldest had sent word before I went down to the witches’ court, in her own square hand: the matter of the Lady Lyra would come before the council once the Lady Elowen was able to attend, and not before, because the Lady Lyra was under the Lady Elowen’s protection until a hearing, and a hearing was what this would be. I had read it twice. A month ago no one in Vaelmoor would have written until the Lady Elowen was able.

I got up before dark. Nana did not sit on me. She looked at my hands, and put a hot