Location:Seven Peaks — the north gate; the north camp path
Date/Time:TC1858.03.12
Wool, and under it, iron. That was what snow tasted of when you ate it off the back of a glove you'd had on all winter, and Tilda Rudd had eaten a lot of it since the camp came onto the stone, because the water was inside and inside was behind her, and she did not walk away from the pegs.
Tilda had a mouthful of it when the third peg on the left came up.
She swallowed and pointed and said it, and down the paving behind her Thorne stopped counting and Raven turned around. Hanne Lowther wrote on her slate without looking at it. Tilda had watched her do that for two days and still couldn't see how.
"Third left," Tilda said again, because Lisle Thorley had come out of the gate passage with the bread and hadn't heard the first time.
