12. Kit
Kit
S trong hands gripped my shoulders as they steered me through a labyrinth of alleys, then hallways.
Adding to the list of things that hurt after the tackle into the dirt, my captor failed to warn me about an upcoming step.
I ran my shin into it and would have toppled completely if whoever held me hadn’t jerked me upright.
Up several stairs and down another short hall, we came to a stop.
A rough thrust threw me forward, and I hissed a breath as my knees cracked against the wood floor.
My fear that they would separate Penny and me was realized when there was no second set of footsteps behind me.
Worry wound its way into the pit of my stomach at the thought of Penny enduring an interrogation without my guidance; I didn’t trust him not to give everything away at the first threat of harm.
Someone yanked the rough burlap sack off my head.
It took my eyes a moment to focus on the man who sat a few feet in front of me, brandishing my Penny-menacing knife.
His face was unfamiliar. I’d been gone a long time, but I hoped that the names I remembered from all those years ago held some weight.
“How did you find us?” the man asked, looking me over with a critical eye.
“I grew up here,” I said. “I’m Vaughn Koesters’ son.”
The man scoffed and shook his head. “Vaughn Koesters didn’t have a son.”
That statement chilled me from the inside out. I had disowned him as my father, but the thought that he’d attempted—and perhaps succeeded—to erase my existence hurt.
My mouth went dry as I spoke again. “If you can just get Gulman Burns, he can vouch for me.”
The interrogator brushed his thumb across the knife’s sharpened edge, then aimed the tip toward me in an attempt to look intimidating. “Gulman’s been dead for nigh on ten years now,” he said, sounding bored, “so no chance of that.”
“Auren Gibson, then,” I tried. Sweat beaded at my hairline. “She knows me, too.”
The man turned the blade and used it to scrape a bit of dirt from beneath one fingernail. “Auren got herself arrested and executed seven years ago. Wherever you found your information, it’s a bit outdated.”
I tried not to let panic add to the nausea churning in my gut.
How long would we go on like this? And to what end?
“I’ve been gone thirteen years. Of course my information is out of date.” I failed to keep a growl from edging into my tone.
I worried again about Penny and the fear I’d heard in his voice when he called my name.
I might be able to talk my way out of trouble, but he could just as easily talk his way into it.
In my youth, I had not been privy to the comings and goings of intruders, though there must have been some.
However they were dealt with, it happened outside my notice.
I knew one thing, though: the Bone Men always needed sacrifices, and they would gladly take them from any source.
“Harlan Volkur?” I sputtered another name, dredging the well of my memory.
Before the interrogator could reply, a distantly familiar voice broke in.
“Kit Koesters?”
I twisted my head to see a figure standing in the doorway. She was taller than I remembered. Her red hair hung in a thick braid down to her waist, and her brown eyes were wide with surprise. A huge smile split her freckled face.
Relief washed over me. “Vi, you are a sight for sore eyes,” I said.
Violette Yost strode into the room with all the confidence of a woman in her own home. “And here I was thinking you were dead in a ditch somewhere. Where have you been all this time?”
The interrogator pushed up out of his chair and pointed at me with the knife. “Missus Yost, you know this man?”
She was already crouched, undoing the knots in the rope that bound my hands behind my back. “Didn’t he tell you? This is Vaughn Koesters’ prodigal son come back to the fold.” Pride hung heavy on her words, but pride was the furthest thing from what I felt when I heard them.
Once my hands were free, Violette levered me to my feet, then flung her arms around me in a crushing embrace. “It’s good to have you back.”
“It’s good to be back,” I lied. When she pulled away, I rubbed my sore wrists. “Actually, Vi, I arrived with another man, a recruit. I’d like to make sure he’s not been hurt.”
“Oh, that must be who they have down the hall.” She motioned to the man standing beside us. “Give Kit his things, Luca. I’ll take him from here.”
Luca drew his shoulders back, and his eyes narrowed. “Missus Yost, this is highly irregular. The Right Hand will want to know what this man’s intentions are. He said himself he’s been gone from here a long time, and Vaughn claimed to his death that he had no children.”
I bristled but did my best to keep my expression even as Luca continued.
“We really should verify?—”
Violette shook her head. “If Levitt takes issue with it, I will take full responsibility. I vouch for Kit, and I’ll vouch for his recruit as well.”
Levitt was Violette’s much more palatable twin brother. We’d been good friends in our youth. I had always hoped he’d made his way out after me, but clearly, he’d stayed. It was hard to picture him leading the cult after my father. They were starkly different people.
Violette beckoned to Luca again. “Mister Koesters’ things, please.”
Frowning, my captor sheathed my knife and handed it over. “His bag is being searched downstairs,” he said, clearly displeased with his authority being undermined.
“Thank you.” Violette slid her arm into the crook of my elbow and looked over at me. “Shall we go fetch your recruit? We’ll pick up your effects once we have him.”
Despite the urge to recoil from her touch, I forced myself to call up the air of indifference I used to hide behind as a teenager.
Allies would be few inside these walls, and I couldn’t afford to offend my incidental savior.
Besides, the sooner we retrieved Penny, the less likely he was to say something he shouldn’t.
I nodded in agreement. “Please.”
She led me out of the room and down a narrow hallway. “We have a lot to catch up on. I assume you’re here to finish your Oaths?”
“That’s the plan.”
She hugged my arm and smiled. “It’s about time.”