16. Kit
Kit
M y body was stiff when I drifted awake, and hunger gnawed on my insides and made me regret not visiting the market the night before. There would be nothing to fill my stomach but the last of the coffee, and the thought of that made me nauseous.
Peeling my eyes open, I stared up at where the afternoon light slanted in and highlighted the old spiderwebs crisscrossing the ceiling beams. Without curtains to block it out, the sun’s heat had built to almost unbearable levels in the cramped room.
Shifting around found me practically buried beneath my and Penny’s traveling cloaks and what looked to be a quilt from the bed.
I appreciated the consideration even if the execution was a bit much.
I kicked the covers off my feet and stretched. My back and hips ached from spending so long sitting hunched on the floor, and sleeping on the firm couch certainly hadn’t helped. Considering all the things I’d read, it was a wonder I’d been able to sleep at all.
The silence of the house roused my suspicion. It wasn’t like Penny to be quiet .
I called his name but got no answer.
Propping myself up on an elbow, I caught sight of my mug, washed out and filled with water, on the coffee table within easy reach. A sheet of paper torn from Penny’s sketchbook was tucked beneath it. I bypassed the note in favor of chugging the water to alleviate my dry mouth.
I replaced the mug and plucked the paper off the table to scan the few short lines.
Went to the market for food. Borrowed some coin. I promise I’ll pay you back.
My stomach growled at the prospect of lunch, then twisted at the thought of Penny being out amongst the townspeople alone.
With any luck, he’d keep to himself and be back soon and reduce my worrying to a minimum.
Though, given he’d spent the night before building a list of all the so-called necessities the house was lacking, he could be gone a while.
If making this place look like a home put him at ease, I wouldn’t stop him.
He might as well be comfortable here even if I never would be.
I left the cloaks and quilt in a heap on the couch as I toted my mug to the kitchen to refill it and guzzle several more glasses of water to dull the sharp edge of hunger.
Apparently, Penny had cleaned while I slept. The thick layer of dust was gone, and the window above the counter was cracked to let in intermittent puffs of cool, fresh air.
Returning to the living room found it similarly tidied.
The journals were stacked in a neat pile next to the coffee table, their pages marked with slips of paper.
The candles had been scraped into the ash bucket beside the fireplace.
The charred logs were swept from the hearth, and fresh logs were stacked in their place.
Penny’s bag was gone, presumably stashed in what was now his room, and mine was propped against the arm of the couch .
Already it looked more like a home than it had during the time I’d lived here as a child.
I sank back down on the couch and scrubbed my hands over my face.
My eyes burned with exhaustion, but the events of that morning were slowly filtering back in.
I wasn’t sure I’d been fully aware when Penny found me slumped in the middle of the floor surrounded by nightmare fodder.
But he sat with me, absorbed the prospect of the horrors in those hundreds of pages, and quietly looked after me when I’d lost the ability to do so myself.
I was grateful, even with the flush of embarrassment at the thought of passing out on him like we were much closer than we were.
With any luck, he’d never mention it again.
A knock at the door startled me from my thoughts. Violette was the only person who knew where we were staying, and the thought of spending any more time with her made me want to crawl out of my skin. But she was a valuable ally to maintain, so I hefted myself to my feet and crossed to the entryway.
Through the window beside the door, I saw a man on the front step dressed in dark ceremonial robes.
It was strange to see someone out and about wearing a getup normally reserved for formal events, so whoever it was, he was looking to make an impression.
I was glad it wasn’t Violette, but there were other, worse possibilities.
I pulled open the door, and the man swung around to face me.
The string of finger bones around his neck clicked against his high, starched collar.
He was half a head shorter than me and built more wiry than muscular, with sandy blonde waves that had been meticulously styled to lay across his forehead.
His jaw was tense, and his thin mouth strained in an attempt at a smile.
There was something eerily familiar about the green eyes beneath his hooded brow, but I was too tired to place it.
“So, this is the infamous Kitingor Koesters my wife has spoken so extensively about.” The man sounded as unimpressed as he looked.
“One and the same,” I said, keeping hold of the door. “But you have me at a disadvantage.”
He pressed a hand to his chest, pointedly not offering to shake as if I were beneath him. It was a familiar gesture, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d learned this particular maneuver from my father, who had perfected it over the years.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I am Shroud Warden Merrick Oliver.”
My blood ran cold, and I was grateful for the doorframe holding me up.
Given the context of his name, I saw a lot of Penny in his face.
He had hard lines in contrast to the soft openness of the younger Oliver’s features.
Maybe it was my abject disdain for the hypercritical elder brother, but I couldn’t help thinking Penny got the good looks of the family.
Despite my racing thoughts, I dipped my head in respect. Crossing the second highest ranking member of the Bone Men could be a death sentence.
“It’s an honor,” I lied. Against my better judgment, I moved back and held the door open. “Please, come in. Forgive the disarray.”
As Merrick stepped inside, his eyes swept the space. “I feel it’s only fair to be honest, Kitingor?—”
“Kit,” I cut in. “Just Kit.”
He quirked a brow. “I feel it’s only fair to be honest, Kit ,” he corrected. “I was surprised to hear you’d come back to us. My wife insists that she always believed you would, but the timing feels convenient. ”
“Your wife is…?”
“Violette Yost.”
Small world.
“She’s quite pleased that you’ve returned,” Merrick continued. “Though I’ll withhold my own opinions for now.”
“I understand.” I motioned him toward the couch, but he remained standing while I sat. “My father and I disagreed on a lot of things. I didn’t feel like I had a place here as long as he was in charge.”
Merrick stared down his nose at me. “Vaughn’s been gone four years. Why return now?”
“Figured I’d need a peace offering.” I feigned nonchalance. “Took me a while to find a recruit to fit the bill.”
“And where is this recruit of yours?” He glanced around the room again.
Apprehension slid down my spine, and I gripped the edge of the couch cushion.
“I sent him to the market for supplies,” I said. “We were running low after the journey.”
He made a sound in the back of his throat, then smoothed the front of his robes. “Then I suppose I’ll have to meet him another time.”
The thought of telling Penny that his older brother was one of the most influential members of the Bone Men made my stomach churn.
Worse yet, this confirmed my suspicions that Merrick leaving the farm right before their father’s body disappeared was no coincidence.
The Bone Men had known where to find the body because a Bone Man helped bury it.
Merrick scrutinized me from head to toe as if he aimed to see through me. After several long moments, he sniffed and looked away, and I wondered if he’d found whatever he was looking for .
“Vi seems to think you could be an asset,” he said. “I’m not sure I’m inclined to agree.”
“Lucky for me you’re not the Right Hand.” The words left my mouth before I could stop them, and anger flashed across Merrick’s features.
“Well. We’ll see what he has to say about you.” He waved a dismissive hand. “ If he approves of allowing you to attempt your Oaths again, you and your recruit will join the other initiates and receive your brand in one month’s time.”
I shook my head firmly. “My recruit is here to offer his services to the cause, not to undertake initiation. And I’ve already completed the first Oath.”
His smile was a bit too smug for my comfort. “Over a decade ago, as I understand. Unfortunately, with the rest of your Oaths incomplete, you’ll need to start over. Renew your commitment, as it were.”
It had been too much to hope they would accept my inked-over brand and let me slide by to the second Oath.
They wouldn’t care that I still remembered the words spoken over me as each piece of iron had seared into my flesh or that I could taste the bile that had filled my mouth as I repeated them back.
After all, to suffer was to honor Eeus. What better way to reaffirm my dedication to him than to suffer a second time?
I did my best not to show that his revelation had rattled me. “Of course. I understand,” I said, and it was a wonder I managed to keep my voice level.
“Good.” His malicious smile didn’t waver. “Then I’ll leave you to prepare. I’m sure the Right Hand will send for you soon enough.”
Merrick turned, and I started to rise, but he held out a hand to stop me.
“Don’t get up. I can see myself out.”