Before Penny could respond, Reimond grabbed Thoma’s sleeve and gave it a tug. “We were actually just leaving,” he said. “Barn chores.” The two of them started toward the doorway, and Reimond waved at Penny then nodded in my direction. “We’ll see you around.”
Neither of them waited for a response before hurrying out of the forge and back to whatever Anders had doubtless interrupted when he’d dragged them here.
Rosie made her way to Penny as he stuffed his sketchbook into his boot. “I got some more dried lavender from the apothecary, and I was going to make another batch of shortbreads,” she said. “I can teach you how, if you still want to learn.”
Penny glanced at me, and I waved him on.
“Go ahead. I’ll meet you back home later,” I said.
His smile made my stomach lurch. Clearly, I was more out of sorts after Otis’s accusations than I’d realized. I pushed the strange sensation down and forced my attention back to my work until Penny and Rosie had gone.
Anders lingered, moving about in my peripherals and starting in on more stories about the lumbermill while I hammered out the dents in the hoe blade and honed the edge.
By the time I was done, he’d touched everything in the shop and put nothing back where he’d found it, leaving the entire place in disarray. He seemed to have finally run out of things to say as I placed the finished piece on the rackagainst the wall, and he leaned against the stone edge of the hearth.
“You make that blade?” He indicated my Penny-menacing knife in its sheath on my hip.
Sighing, I tugged off my apron and pulled the knife free, holding it out for him to see. “I did.”
He let out a low whistle as he looked it over. “Fine work, but a bit small.” He reached back and drew his own blade, an oversized machete that looked well-crafted but unwieldy.
“Nowthis,” he said with a grin, “is what you need. It’ll come in handy for future Oaths.”
It wasn’t worth telling him my knife would be more useful in most circumstances, but he did have a point: several Oaths would take us beyond the relative safety of Ashpoint’s walls, and we would need means of defending ourselves. Penny would do well to have a blade of his own.
Perhaps I couldn’t protect him from the Oaths like I’d hoped, but at least I could equip him to protect himself.
24
Penny
Iwas nervous to meet Rosie’s family, half-convinced Kit’s warnings about the members of the cult would be proven out in this group of strangers. But upon entering the Saunderses quaint cottage, any fears I had were put immediately at ease.
Like Kit’s house, it was small, with the kitchen and living room in immediate view. But, drastically different from Kit’s home, this space overflowed with warmth and clutter. Furniture lined every wall, and the shelves were laden with knickknacks and leatherbound books. With a stack of teacups here and a mug full of collected bird feathers there, I felt like I was being introduced to the people who lived here before any of them came into sight.
Rosie tugged me across the threshold where we were greeted by a towering man who must have been her father. Lean and tall, he wore plain linen clothes streaked with dirt a shade lighter than his umber skin. His hands were similarly muddied, and he wiped them on a towel tucked into his belt before offering to shake with me.
Rosie stepped alongside the two of us. “Penny, this is my father, Gerald.”
“Welcome to Ashpoint, Penny.” Gerald’s smile was bright and steady. “Very glad to make your acquaintance.”
His tight grip had my fingers aching as he pumped my arm up and down, making the braids in his hair bounce against his forehead.
“Likewise, sir,” I replied, and he beamed wider.
“Good to see this one has some manners,” he said, tipping his head toward Rosie. “Unlike that oaf, Anders.”
The name triggered recognition, and I thought back to the crowd that had descended on Kit and me in the smithy that morning. Anders had dominated Kit’s attention while I was preoccupied with Reimond and Thoma. I liked those two already. They were kind and shared the sorts of glances and passing touches that made me suspect they were closer than mere friends.
“Anders?” I echoed to be sure I’d heard correctly. When Gerald nodded, I added, “I met him earlier.”
“Did you?” The older man’s smile turned mischievous. “What did you make of him?”
I could have told him about Thoma’s horses or Reimond’s sheep, but the boisterous lumberman had made less of an impression on me. All I really remembered was his voice roaring over Thoma’s soft mumbles.
I frowned. “He’s… loud.”
Gerald barked a laugh. “Polite enough to leave it at that.” He clapped his palm heavily on my shoulder. “Good man. I hear my daughter is planning to teach you a bit of baking?”
