Chapter 11
Kit
This trip out of Ashpoint was less enjoyable than the last had been, and it was only partly due to our unwanted company.
On top of Anders regaling us with endless stories of his feats of strength and his plentiful exploits with women both in Ashpoint and on the road, Penny scarcely said a word.
He was tense and withdrawn, and I missed his chatter.
I wished I could slide my arm around his shoulders and pull him against me and ask what was bothering him.
We travelled until sundown, then pulled off the road into the shelter of a dense stand of evergreens.
The location was far enough from any towns or militia outposts to not be noticed.
There was some weary brown grass for Flint to graze on and enough dry wood beneath the heavy boughs to build a fire.
Once the flames had caught, the three of us crowded around to take advantage of their meager warmth as the chill of the night set in.
Penny and I shared a bag of dried fruit and nuts and kept as close as we could without being too obvious while Anders reposed on the opposite side with a pouch of venison jerky.
“If we get going at first light, we should make Wendwood by midday,” Anders said around a mouthful of food.
“Means one of us will have to be the distraction. Can’t have the Symbiarch finding us in the middle of our task.
” His lips curled in a sinister smile. “Though, I have wanted to test the sharpness of my machete against bone.”
Penny’s face paled.
“We’re not killing anyone,” I snapped. “That’s not part of the plan. Penny can keep the Symbiarch occupied, and you and I will handle the supplies.”
“Occupied how?” Penny asked with a quizzical squint.
I shrugged one shoulder. “Be friendly. You like talking to people, and they like talking to you.”
“I don't especially like talking to people I'm robbing,” he muttered quietly enough I didn’t think I was meant to hear.
It was a different attitude than the one he'd had that morning while assuring me we would make good of this somehow. Clearly, whatever was nagging at him sapped what little optimism he had about our trip.
Honestly, I didn’t have much of my own to offer in exchange, so I sighed and gave him a tired look. “Good thing you're not doing the robbing, then.” It came out more forcefully than I intended, and I regretted my sharp tone immediately.
Anders rolled his eyes and flapped his hand at me. “Sounds boring. But fine, we’ll do it your way.”
While Anders dug around in his bag of jerky, I pressed my knee against Penny’s in unspoken apology. He glanced down at the point of contact, and the tension in his shoulders eased.
Once full dark fell, Penny and I banked the fire with fresh wood while Anders spread out his bedroll. We retrieved our bedding as the lumberman stretched out on top of his and slung a blanket of heavy furs over himself.
“Keep watch and keep the fire going, won’t you?” He yawned. “Wake me at dawn.”
Penny glanced up from shaking out his bedroll, and his brows dipped low over his eyes. “You’re not going to take a turn?”
Anders scoffed. “Of course not. I need my sleep. I’m sure the two of you can manage it fine.”
Penny made to protest again, but I laid a hand on his arm and stopped him short.
“Just let him sleep,” I murmured.
Penny sighed and settled in with his satchel and sketchbook still clutched to his chest. I offered him my bedroll as I sank down on the cushion of pine needles covering the forest floor. He tilted his head in a silent question.
I couldn’t say it aloud with Anders within earshot, but I didn’t trust the lumberman.
There was no chance I would sleep with him around unless there was a locked door between us.
I certainly had no intention of leaving either Penny or myself vulnerable so far from help.
Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time I stayed up on guard all night.
“Use it as a pillow. I’ll keep watch.” I pushed the blanket into his hands, but he refused to take it.
“But then what will you sleep on?”
“Please take it, Pen. And get some rest.”
He drew a breath to argue but instead sparked a flurry of coughs that left him gasping and me worried about having him out in the cold overnight. Once he calmed and could breathe normally, he accepted the rolled bedding and tucked it under his head, too tired to protest any further.
I spread both his blanket and mine over him, not caring whether or not Anders was awake or watching. Penny huddled into the warmth and his eyes track me as I drew my knife from its sheath to hold it at the ready in my lap.
“Goodnight, Kit,” he said, fighting a yawn. “Wake me up when it’s my turn.”
I kept the fire going through the night, glad for the task of gathering more wood as the flames got low because it kept me awake. By the time the eastern horizon lit with the orange glow of sunrise, my eyelids were drooping, and sleep threatened with every blink.
I sheathed my knife and scrubbed my hands over my eyes, trying to rub away some of the heaviness, before I gave Penny a shake. With Anders snoring on the other side of the dying fire, I took the opportunity to press a kiss to Penny’s forehead.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” I whispered against his chilled skin.
I started to sit back as he stirred. He fought to free his arms from the blankets and slung them around my shoulders to catch and pull me in for a real kiss. I eased into it, grateful for that bit of closeness before the peace of the morning could be ruined by Anders.
“You were supposed to wake me up for watch,” Penny said when I broke away.
I grinned and smoothed his mussed hair. “I never agreed to that. How would I look after you if I was sleeping?”
He scowled, and I snickered as I pushed to my feet.
“I can look after you too, you know,” he grumbled.
“I know you can, Pen. Next time.”
He held out a hand, and I hefted him upright. The blankets fell away, and he shivered.
“You want to get Flint hitched up?” I suggested. “It’ll help keep you warm. I’ll get Anders and put out the fire.”
He nodded, bent to gather up the blankets and the bedrolls and, with his arms full, headed for the cart.
I moved around what was left of the fire and nudged Anders with the toe of my boot. It took all my self-control not to kick him instead.
“Sun’s up,” I said when he groaned and dropped a hand over his eyes. “You should be, too. Pack your things so we can get back on the road.”
He sat up and glowered at me, looking more like a petulant child than a fully grown adult. “Are you always this bossy in the mornings?” he muttered.
“You’re the one who said ‘wake me up at dawn,’ remember?” I gestured to the eastern horizon where the sun’s early rays stained the wispy clouds shades of gold and red. “Behold: dawn.”
We ate on the road. I was too tired to focus well enough to keep us heading in the right direction, so I left Penny to the reins.
When Anders dozed off in the bed of the cart, snoring loudly enough to preempt any attempt at conversation, I tucked myself in close to Penny and let my head drop onto his shoulder.
Sleep hovered but never quite pulled me all the way in before Penny was nudging me to attention hours later.
The Wendwood mission was a far cry from the grand manor of the one outside Emberstead.
Everything here was on the ground floor and, though it was easily four times the size of our house in Ashpoint, it didn’t look much different.
It sat outside the town proper, nearly half a mile from the haphazard sprawl of houses and small farms, separated by a stretch of barren field.
If our map was to be believed, the root cellar was dug into the earth not far from the northern wall of the building.
But what the map didn’t show was that there was a long row of windows overlooking the stretch of snow we’d be disturbing shortly.
Penny pulled the horse up when we were still a good distance away. He chewed his bottom lip and twisted the reins between his fingers.
“Here already?” Anders asked, pushing up on his elbow and craning his neck to see around me.
“Near enough,” I said. Penny’s eyes darted over to meet mine, and I tipped my head toward the mission. “Probably best for you to go the rest of the way on foot. We’ll wait to move in until you’re inside.”
He threw a wary look at Anders over his shoulder, then glanced back at me.
“What if I can’t distract them?” he asked.
Anders pushed up to his knees and leaned in, looping one arm around each of our shoulders and shoving his face between ours. He grinned behind his bushy beard.
“Well, Penny, then we get caught, and we die. So best do a good job. I, at least, don’t intend to die today.” He thumped us both on the backs, then turned to sprawl in the bed of the cart. “Go on. The sooner we get this started, the sooner we can go home.”
The color drained from Penny’s face. He gripped the reins in white-knuckled fists and said nothing as he stared ahead at the not-so-distant mission.
I laid my hand over his and squeezed.
“You’ll do fine, Pen. I’m not worried.”
His breath hitched, and his gaze met mine again. “I am,” he admitted softly.
I would have given anything to be able to wrap him in my arms and tell him everything would be okay.
To reassure myself as much as to reassure him.
But with the unwanted audience, I did the only thing I could.
Shielded by our bodies where Anders couldn’t see, I worked my fingers between Penny’s until we were palm to palm. His grip was brutally tight.
“I have faith in you,” I said. “You’ll do great.
Just keep them talking and away from that window, and everything will go smoothly.
We’ll be out of here in no time.” I offered what I hoped was an encouraging smile.
“Just think: we can be back safe and warm in Ashpoint by tomorrow evening. We’ll have a hot dinner and sleep in a comfortable bed.
We just need to get through this first.”