Written for readers who have finished Book 1.
The dented copper kettle on the south-window hook is the col-house's namesake and its heart. It was carried over the road for years before it was ever hung in a window, and when a small fire is lit beneath it on a dark morning it throws a low warm glow of copper light that travellers catch from further off than a small window ought to show — the one warm thing visible on the whole cold mountain. Nobody at the col can say quite how. "The kettle is always on" is not a rule anyone handed down. It is simply the truth of the house.
Toll's own cup is the one good piece of crockery in the col-house: finer ceramic, a truer glaze, left behind…
The long pine table runs down the centre of the col-house kitchen, and it is Marga's — the table she set for…
The south-window fire-cradle is the small iron mechanism of the kept light: a handful of coals held at a low…
The col-house has a second kettle: a small, squat iron one, black, with a rim of old scale inside, that lives…