Chapter 177

Kade

Garrick stood up at nine o’clock, before anyone else could, and leaned on his cane, and waited until the hall was quiet.

He hadn’t told me what he would say. I hadn’t asked. He had sat up half the night in the sitting room of the east wing, by the dead fire, with a glass of Sebastian’s whisky he didn’t drink, and when I came out at six he was still there, in the same chair, shaved and dressed and gray as stone. He had looked at me, and nodded once, and that was all.

“My name is Garrick Shaw,” he said now. “I’ve sat on the council of Moonhaven for forty-one years. Thirty of them at Nathaniel Blackwell’s table. Most of you know me. Some of you have had cause to wish you didn’t.”

A dry murmur along the curve. Harlan’s mouth twitched.

“I’ll tell you plainly where I stand, so nobody here wastes their time wondering,” Garrick said. “I voted against the pardon for Sloane Sinclair. I voted against it twice. I don’t like the Luna’s light. I don’t und