He extended his hands toward Elena. “I’ve already decided. Take them off.” He glanced over at Dancer as he said it, and saw the relief mingled with pain and regret on his friend’s face.

“Hunts Alone, wait!” Willo said. She turned to the others. “This boy has lost his mother and sister within the month. He is in mourning and he needs time to heal. We should not force him to decide this now.”

“We haven’t much time,” Elena said. “Dancer leaves for Oden’s Ford day after tomorrow, and it would be safer if they traveled together. The term begins in a month, and it will take time to travel there, even if they don’t encounter trouble along the way.”

“I just don’t want him to make a decision he’ll regret later,” Willo said.

“It’s all right. I’ve decided,” Han said again, louder. “Who’s going to do it?” He looked from Elena to Lord Averill.

“Sit down,” Elena said abruptly, not looking at Willo. Han sat on one of the sleeping benches. She brought her carry bag and sat beside him. “Bring the torches closer,” she said, and Dancer and Averill obliged. The acrid smoke stung Han’s nose.

Digging deep into her deerskin pouch, Elena produced a small parcel. She unfolded the leather covering, revealing a set of delicate silver-working tools. Choosing a hammer and chisel, she pressed Han’s arm down across her bony knees and motioned to Willo. Willo knelt next to them and gripped his right hand hard, holding his wrist steady and looking into his eyes. He looked back, struggling to keep his face blank.

Using the jeweler’s hammer and chisel, muttering under her breath, Elena tapped along a line of runes engraved in the silver. Fine cracks appeared all along the line, widening as she continued to work.

Han’s hand began to tingle, and he wasn’t sure if it was the vibration from the multiple blows or magic leaking through. Willo’s eyes widened, so maybe she felt it too.

Elena stopped abruptly, seized his other hand, and began working on that cuff.

“It’s important that they break together,” she said. “Otherwise the imbalance might kill you.”

Han thought of the times he’d asked clan silversmiths at the market to try removing them, and shuddered.

“Hold still,” Elena said grimly. Before long, the right cuff resembled the left one.

“Now,” Elena said, taking a deep breath, “we will break the cuffs. Are you ready, Hunts Alone?”

So it was as simple as that, removing the silver he’d worn all his life. Han nodded, suddenly apprehensive, his mouth dry, his palms sweating. What if it killed him? His heart accelerated, as if it were trying to get in as many beats as possible before it stopped.

“Wait.” Willo brought him the cup of rowan tea. “Here. Drink more of this. Just in case.”