34. Kit
Kit
Isla’s scream reverberated in the cavern, and for several excruciating seconds, everything else was quiet. Then Penny gasped, and his hand wrenched around mine as his body convulsed.
I forced my eyes open only to be immediately overwhelmed by the vibrant red seeping from his stomach. It bubbled out faster as he writhed, rapidly forming a pool beneath him.
I wanted to comfort him, to talk him through this, but even if not for the gag, there were no words.
How could I make this better? What could I possibly say to make up for how badly I’d failed?
It was my fault he was lying there, and I would regret that for whatever was left of my life.
Minutes stretched out around us, the only sound in the cavern the echoes of Penny’s whimpers and ragged breaths.
The crowd was reverently quiet but for Isla openly weeping, practically suspended between her guards when her own legs refused to hold her up.
Because she’d failed, too, in her attempt to atone for what her brother had been party to, to help me save my home and, in so doing, save Penny.
Merrick stood above us, holding the blood-soaked blade. He’d finally run out of insults and taunts to hurl at the two of us. He’d won, at least in this. What else was there to say?
As the volume of Penny’s whines and sobs increased, it got harder and harder to watch. But after each cringe and lingering blink, I forced my eyes open again so that every time he looked my way he knew I was there. I was watching.
Everyone was watching.
“I’m sorry, Kit,” Penny whispered through labored breaths. “I’m sorry I brought you here. I’m sorry we couldn’t stop this.”
I squeezed his hand, and I couldn’t tell which of us was shaking harder.
“Be quiet, Penwell,” Merrick snapped.
Penny didn’t so much as flick his eyes in his half-brother’s direction; he kept them trained on me. “I just hope I’m good enough. That I haven’t ruined everything.”
I lurched forward and snagged the fingers of my free hand in the kerchief gag to pry it out of my mouth.
“You didn’t ruin anything, sweetheart,” I said in a rush. “And you have always been good enough. Always.”
Hands gripped my shoulders and forced me back down, and Matina leaned over to get ahold of the gag and shove it back between my teeth.
She undid the knot behind my head and retied it so tight I could feel the pressure building between my temples.
But she didn’t step back this time. She remained behind me, hands on my shoulders and holding me down so I couldn’t move again.
Finally, I thought I might believe what Penny always told me, that I wasn’t responsible for all the bad things that had happened to us. The only people to blame for any of this were my father, who twisted and molded Merrick into the cruel man he always wanted me to be, and Merrick himself.
Tense minutes passed, and Penny grew paler by the moment. His blood dripped steadily off the edge of the altar now, collecting beneath the stone in an ever-growing puddle that told me this would all be over soon.
“Don’t look, Kit,” Penny murmured.
His eyes were glassy. I could see the life fading from them, and my own vision blurred behind a film of tears.
I wanted to remind him how much I loved him, tell him I was sorry for failing him, that I would never stop regretting that it was him on that altar and not me.
That I hoped Eeus would take pity on me and let me follow Penny into the afterlife because I didn’t want to take a single breath in a world without him.
He was my joy. My light. My everything.
“It’s okay,” Penny whispered. “I’m okay. I love you.”
His words dissolved into unintelligible mumbles that sounded somewhat like a prayer.
I wanted to rage at the gods because his last words were for them, not me.
It wasn’t enough for them to take his life, they took that from me, too.
I wanted to lean in, to press my forehead to his and reassure him that it was me who was here for him, not some distant god.
Not those far-removed deities who left us to suffer in their names while we pled for their intervention.
But that was my pain. My bitterness. And even if I could have, I would never take this last comfort from him. If a prayer brought him peace, let the gods hear it and bear their portion of this guilt. It was too heavy for me to bear alone.
As the minutes inched on, Penny’s grip loosened and his hand cooled. I still clung on, unwilling to admit that his blinks were getting longer as his breathing slowed.
When Merrick stepped up to the altar again, Penny slurred out, “Kit, I’m cold.”
Sobs shook my shoulders, and Merrick’s voice echoed in the cavern as he spoke the ceremonial words to finish the summoning.
My pounding heart drowned out every one of them.
I wanted to close my eyes, to blot out the sight of the man I loved looking so broken, so hollow.
But even though he had given me permission to look away, I promised I would never leave him.
This was my last chance to keep that promise.
So, I would be present until the end, no matter how badly it hurt.
At last, Penny’s eyes fluttered closed, and they didn’t open again. His chest barely rose and fell, and guilt burned like bile in my throat when I dared to feel relieved that it was almost over.
All I wanted was for him not to be in pain anymore.
Merrick finished speaking, then bent over the altar. He reached for our clasped hands, and I clung on even tighter, unwilling to relinquish that last bit of connection.
But he didn’t try to pry us apart. Instead, he slid the tip of the knife under the cord around Penny’s wrist and jerked, splicing the braided leather.
“Don’t!” I yelped, or would have, but the word was mangled by the gag into a pitiful cry.
“This was supposed to represent an unbroken bond,” he said to me as, knife still in hand, he unwound the cord from Penny’s wrist and held it aloft. “It gives me immense pleasure to sever every reminder of what you could have had until there’s nothing left but bones.”
He flicked the cord away, then, with all his might, drove the blade between Penny’s ribs.
Penny’s hand went limp in mine, and a scream ripped up my throat, deafening even through the gag. A maelstrom of regret and agony would have taken me to my knees if I wasn’t there already.
My light was gone, and the world was dark and cold.
Matina’s hands fell away from my shoulders, and I slumped against the edge of the altar, cupping Penny’s cold hand to my face.