“I mean it, Penny,” he said. “Stay away from the whiskey. It’s a foul drink.”
I wiped my arm across my eyes, trying to dry them before Kit noticed I was crying again. “Butyoulike it,” I protested.
“I hate it,” he replied sharply. “Just not as much as I hate the way I feel without it.”
A few more tears escaped, and I rubbed them away. “That’s sad.”
Kit heaved another noisy breath as he stepped out of the room. “Get some rest.”
The door clicked closed, and I stared at it for several moments. When I heard the water pump creak in the bathroom, I groaned and fell back onto the bed. Sleeping the day away was not likely to change my mind or alter the fact that I’d made a fool of myself in front of Kit so many times that I’d stopped keeping track.
But I could do better. Do more than stand idly by and let my brother be proven right. I could help Kit. Together, maybe we could even be heroes.
My gut roiled. Whimpering, I huddled on my side in a miserable ball.
Heroism would have to wait till tomorrow.
23
Kit
Penny didn’t shuffle out of bed the next morning until after I’d finished cooking eggs and sausage for a late breakfast. He was miserably hungover, and he ate in grouchy silence while I plied him with coffee until he took himself off for a bath to try to perk up.
I washed the dishes and tidied the kitchen while he soaked, unable to stop our conversation the day before from looping through my head. I’d only agreed to bring Penny with me to Ashpoint with the intention of sending him away before any of the Oaths took place. Letting him attempt them wasn’t part of the plan.
I wasn’t sure I could handle another death on my conscience.
Without the liquid courage pumping through his veins, I hoped he would reconsider. Surely he couldn’t face down the possibility of leaving his mother and sister with no one to look after them but Merrick.
A knock at the door broke me from my thoughts. On the front step was a messenger dressed all in black who informed me that my apprentice and I would be expectedto start work at the forge within the next two days. As much as I suspected Penny would protest heading there that afternoon, I knew a distraction would be good for both of us.
I’d barely reengaged the locks when Penny appeared in the doorway to the hall, shirtless and mopping his dripping hair with his towel. For a moment, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his smooth, lightly muscled torso. Water left a sheen on the tan skin that made his blond hair seem even brighter. My mind wandered back to the feeling of his hand on my chest the day before. The pain and sympathy on his face when he mentioned my brand and what had been done to me. The thought of him suffering the same torture made me sick.
He’d looked afraid when he talked about them burning him, too, but I’d been so caught off guard by the whole conversation that I’d given few reassurances. He sought the same comfort I had our first morning in Ashpoint, and I’d pushed him away. It felt almost intimate, to have him pressed against my chest with his head tucked under my chin. It might have been nice if he’d been sober and in his right mind…
It startled me to think I might have enjoyed it.
“Who was that?” Penny asked.
I cleared my throat and reined in my wandering thoughts. “A messenger letting us know the forge is ours. We’ll head over there in a little while.”
He made a face, then nodded and turned toward the hall.
“Penny?” My voice stopped him short, and he glanced back. “What we talked about yesterday?—”
“I feel the same.” He fixed me with a look that was equal parts fear and determination. “You said if I hadn’t changed my mind in the morning, you’d accept it.”
I wanted to remind him that he had a family to look after and they couldn’t afford to lose him, but he disappeared down the hall and closed himself in his room before I could say anything else.
Clearly, he was done talking about it even if I wasn't. Undergoing the Oaths was a foolish decision on both of our parts, but I at least knew what I was getting myself into. I was prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice if that’s what it took to wipe the Bone Men off the map. It would be a fitting end to my story. A punishment I fully deserved, but onehedefinitely didn’t.
What I wouldn’t have given for Penny to have left a little whiskey for me. A dull buzz to drown out those pervasive thoughts would have been preferable to sobriety.
I settled on the couch while I waited for Penny to get ready. My father’s journals remained stacked beside the coffee table, and I pulled the one from the top into my lap and flipped it open to the marked page. It was dated the year before my father’s arrest and execution. My eyes skimmed the tail end of an entry from early autumn detailing a particularly bloody sacrifice, then settled on the next one notated as three days later.
Thirteen new initiates received their brands tonight in the second group of the year. I don’t expect many of them to make it past the third Oath, but the Death Watch overruled my request to bar eight of them from the attempt. They are of more value to Eeus as simple laborers, and their addition to the ranks of carefully selected acolytes dilutes our strength. They are lesser beings and do not deserve to partake in the sacred rituals. Those meant to serve should never be allowed to rise into positions of power, no matter how small.
O shares my sentiment, as I expected he would. He’s one of the few who shares my vision for what the Bone Men can and should be. In time, we will find new Sentinels to replace those who are blind to the true path to bringing Eeus down to walk among us. The DeathWatch was meant to protect us. Instead, they hold us back. They have lost their way.
