Chapter 15 #2
“What did we say about arguing?” Margot asked. She helped Elise pack a few smaller bags alongside a waterskin and a box of matches, all on top of our clothes from the day before.
“Jerky, dried fruit, and some roasted walnuts,” Elise said. She leaned over the counter to smile at us. “And I snuck some candied peaches in there, too. No one makes them better than Margot.”
I returned to the living room to reclaim Penny’s satchel and dig my coin pouch out of it. “At least let me pay for the supplies.”
Elise waved a hand when I crossed back to Penny’s side. “No need. We have enough to share.”
Maybe they did now, but how long would that last with the mission’s root cellar plundered and burned? Elise seemed sure that the other towns in the ward would help. I wanted to believe that, but it didn’t quell my need to make some kind of reparations.
I dug out a few coppers to tuck in my pocket, then offered the pouch with the remainder to our hosts. It wasn’t much since I’d only packed enough to cover a night or two at an inn and maybe one hot meal, but it was better than nothing.
“Please,” I insisted. “If not for you, then use it to help the town.”
The women shared a long look before Margot stretched out her hand and let me drop the pouch into it.
“Thank you. We should get on our way before it gets any later.”
Elise followed us to the door and handed us each a cloak. “You’re sure you won’t stay another night?”
I shook my head. “We can’t. We need to get home. Too many people will be worrying as it is.”
Penny secured his satchel across his chest, then swung the cloak around his shoulders.
He fumbled with the clasp, and Elise was there to fasten it for him before I could even finish with my own.
By the time we were outfitted and ready to go, Margot had cinched the top of the canvas bag closed and held it out to me.
“Safe travels,” she said. “Perhaps we’ll see you again under better circumstances.”
I smiled as I took the offered bag. “Thank you again.”
Elise pushed the door open, but Margot pulled Penny up short with a hand on his arm. She retrieved a long brown scarf from one of the hooks beside the door and slung it around his neck. Blush tinged his cheeks as she wound it around him and then tugged it up over his mouth and nose.
“So the cold doesn’t irritate your cough.” She gave the end a final tug, then leaned in to speak in a conspiratorial whisper as she angled her eyes toward where Elise was pretending not to hear. “Besides, my wife’s been itching for an excuse to make me a new one.”
“Thanks.” Penny blinked suddenly misty eyes and dipped his head.
I slid my arm around his and tugged him out the door. We said our goodbyes, and the women waved as we started down the lane.
Wendwood was bustling even at the early hour. For such a small town, the market was lively when we passed through it on our way toward the mission. I scanned the shops and stalls and directed Penny toward one when I found what I was looking for.
His brows rose in a silent question when we stopped in front of a small display of winter wear.
“Your hands get stiff and achy in the cold, and we have a very long, very cold walk ahead of us.” I plucked a pair of woolen mittens from the rack and held them up for the shopkeeper to see.
That cleaned out all but one of the coppers I’d stashed, but we’d manage without until we made it back to Ashpoint. When I turned to give the mittens to Penny, he fixed me with a puzzled expression.
“What?” I asked.
He took the mittens almost timidly. “I never told you that.”
“You didn’t have to. I spend all day with you in the forge.”
There were days I spent more time watching Penny than I did paying attention to my own work, and it was impossible to miss when the heat from the coals didn’t quite reach his worktable. He would take frequent breaks to flex his fingers or shake them out or rub at the aches in his joints.
His eyes flicked up to mine, and I couldn’t help a soft smile.
“What kind of beau would I be if I didn’t notice when you’re in pain?”
He swallowed hard and dropped his gaze again. “Thank you,” he murmured.
Penny was quiet as we started our trek out of Wendwood and back toward Ashpoint.
He kept his head down while wringing the mittens between his hands.
Given how ashamed he’d been of not helping when the mission burned, I shouldn’t have been surprised by his reaction to what I’d thought was a kind gesture.
He was hyper aware of what he considered failings.
Years of enduring Merrick’s reminders about his fault in the barn fire had him convinced that he shouldn’t show that the pain from his burns lingered.
Like he thought the discomfort was deserved. Someday, I would change his mind.
Outside of town, the world was peaceful with only the echoing calls of chickadees overhead and the crunching of snow underfoot to disturb the silence. We were almost at the smoldering husk of the mission when I thought to try to pull Penny into conversation, but he spoke first.
“The Symbiarch told me some things yesterday. About Eeus and Paneus. Stuff no one ever taught me.” He stuffed the mittens into his pockets as he finally looked up.
His eyes caught on the wreckage not far ahead, and he blanched.
Whatever nerve he’d worked up to speak was gone.
His head dropped again as he hurried his steps to put the mission behind us as quickly as possible.
I nearly had to jog to keep pace, and I knew the longer he rushed, the worse the ensuing coughing fit was bound to be. So, I caught his arm to slow him down and catch his attention as we passed out of view of the burnt mission.
Penny startled at the touch, but the crease between his brows quickly eased, and he let out a breath.
We walked another minute or two in silence. The further we got from Wendwood, the looser Penny became.
“You were going to tell me what the Symbiarch told you yesterday,” I prompted. “About the gods.”
When he looked over at me, he cracked the first smile I’d seen in what felt like days. It was worn and weary, but it held a sort of ease, like a weight was gone from his shoulders and he could move freely again. In that moment, he was the most stunning I’d ever seen him.
He drew us to a stop. We paused in the middle of the road, and he slid his arms around my waist so he could press in and rub his nose against mine.
“She told me a lot of things. About how the Bone Men twisted who Eeus really is. How the gods used to come down and walk among us.” His smile turned wistful. “And she told me that Paneus and Eeus need each other, and one can’t exist without the other. How they’re two halves of a whole.”
After the last few awful days, it was a comfort to see some of his brightness returning.
He was practically vibrating with excitement, and his bandaged hands slid inside my overalls and dipped under the hem of my shirt to trace a chilly trail up my back.
I crowded closer and pulled him flush against me as his lips hovered barely a breath away from mine.
“She said they’re lovers,” he whispered. His eyes shone with unshed tears, but not from sorrow. This was long-awaited relief. “They're like us, Kit. Like me. All this time I thought I was strange or wrong, but I’m not.”
“Of course you’re not.” I leaned my forehead against his. “You’re divine, and you always have been. It’s about time you realize it, too.”
He laughed, and I couldn’t remember ever hearing anything so beautiful.
I closed the scant distance between us and stole a lingering kiss while Penny’s fingers traced along my spine. It was a moment of much needed normalcy. I loved being this close to him and finding comfort in each other, even when things looked dark.
I pulled back when Penny’s hands slid low enough to warrant a retreat.
“Now,” I murmured against his lips, “let’s get those mittens on you so you can stop using my backside to thaw your fingers.”