By the third morning the food stones had become a problem.
Ysabet noticed the weight first. The bag which had dragged at her shoulder now swung against her hip. At breakfast she put it down, opened it, and found four large pieces of clean clay, a handful of small rubble, and the jar with its shallow remainder of mineral honey.
Pip had eaten before sleep. It had eaten when the mouse woke them. It had eaten again before dawn.
Now it was trying to chew a stone from the cold hearth.
“Not that,” she said.
It struck the stone with its jaw. The sound was flat and powerful.
Ysabet crouched. Where the crushed teeth had left gaps, pale ridges were rising. They were not pointed. The surfaces broadened against each other like small grinding plates.
Ashaun put down the empty breakfast pot and came to look.
