“And I was ready for that, Tom, truly I was. I’m ready to cut wood and fit it and shape it all day. But I didn’t expect to be bored to death. Sweeping and rubbing and fetching . . . I might as well have stayed at home for all I’m learning here.”

Few things have such sharp edges as the careless words of a boy. His disdain for our old life, spoken so plainly, left me speechless.

He lifted his eyes to mine accusingly. “And where have you been and why have you been gone so long? Didn’t you know that I’d need you?” Then he squinted at me. “What have you done to your hair?”

“I cut it,” I said. I ran a self-conscious hand over my mourning-shortened locks. I suddenly did not trust myself to say more than that. He was just a lad, I knew, and prone to see all things first in how they affected himself. But the very brevity of my reply alerted him that there was much I had not said.

His eyes wandered over my face. “What’s happened?” he demanded.

I took a breath. No help for it now. “Nighteyes is dead,” I said quietly.

“But . . . is it my fault? He ran away from me, Tom, but I did look for him, I swear I did, Jinna will tell you—”

“It wasn’t your fault. He followed and found me. I was with him when he died. It was nothing you did, Hap. He was just old. It was his time and he went from me.” Despite my efforts, my throat clenched down on the words.

The relief on the boy’s face that he was not at fault was another arrow in my heart. Was being blameless more important to him than the wolf’s death? But when he said, “I can’t believe he’s gone,” I suddenly understood. He spoke the exact truth. It would take a day, perhaps several, before he realized the old wolf was never coming back. Nighteyes would never again sprawl beside him on the hearthstones, never nudge his hand to have his ears scratched, never walk at his side to hunt rabbits again. Tears rose in my eyes.

“You’ll be all right. It will just take time,” I assured him thickly.

“Let’s hope so,” he responded heavily.

“Go to bed. You can still get an hour or so of sleep before you must rise.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “I suppose I’d better.” Then he took a step toward me. “Tom. I’m so sorry,” he said, and his awkward hug took away much of the earlier hurt he had dealt me. Then he lifted his eyes to mine to ask earnestly, “You’ll come by tomorrow night, won’t you? I need to talk to you. It’s very important.”

“I’ll come by tonight. If Jinna does not mind.” I looked past Hap’s shoulder at her as I released him from my embrace.

“Jinna won’t mind at all,” she assured me, and I hoped only I could hear the extra note of warmth in her voice.