Chapter 5

He didn’t say anything for so long that I began to wish I could take it back, the way you wish you could take back a step onto thin ice.

He didn’t look shocked. That was the strange thing. He looked like a man doing a very long sum in his head and not liking the answer.

“You have a wolf,” he said at last. Not a question.

“Yes.”

“And you’ve never once touched her shape.”

“Never.”

“Then how do you know she’s there?”

“Because she talks to me.”

His head came up. “Talks.”

“Not all the time. She’s—” I tried to think of how to explain it. “Dry. She has opinions about my choices. Mostly she sleeps. She’s been very awake since the Long Night.” I heard what that sounded like as I said it and went hot to the ears. “That isn’t—I mean she doesn’t—”

“Elowen.” He said my name gently, the way you might put a hand on a horse. “A wolf doesn’t talk. Not ours, not anyone’s. She’s a pull, a hunger, a second pair of eyes. Sometimes a picture, if