He pumped the faucet to start the water running. While he stared down at it, I searched his face, every day growing more familiar with the way his eyes had a tinge of gold and how his cheeks held the faintest blush.
“The third Oath,” he said at last, “is poison.”
My brow furrowed. “What kind of poison? Is it deadly?”
“It can be, for those who aren’t prepared. But I’ve taken necessary steps to ensure we are.” Opening theupper cabinet, he reached inside and pulled out a small glass bottle. It glinted in the sun streaming through the open window, reminding me I needed to hang the new curtains.
Kit tipped his chin past me at the cups we’d left on the table. “Do you have any coffee left?”
“A bit,” I replied, and he nodded.
“Grab it. Mine, too.”
I did as asked and carried both mugs to where he was lifting the cap off the small bottle to reveal a dropper top. His fingers quivered as he drew up a measure of the liquid inside.
“Set them here, would you?” He aimed a look at the counter beside us.
Again, I followed his instruction and watched as he squeezed a few drops of the liquid into each of our cups, adding more to his own than to mine.
“What is that?” I asked after he’d closed the bottle and returned it to the cabinet shelf.
“Poison,” Kit replied.
“But you said it was the third Oath,” I protested. “We haven’t done the second. And why doyouhave it? Isn’t that something Levitt should give out? Or Merrick?”
“One question at a time,” he said, then sucked a deep breath. “Itisthe third Oath, and no, we haven’t done the second, but this is time-sensitive, and it can’t wait. I got the poison while you were at Rosie’s yesterday, and technically I’m not supposed to have it; I may or may not have had to resort to blackmail to get my hands on it. Officially, the Shroud Warden dispenses it on the night of the third Oath, but my father gave it to me for years to build my tolerance so I wouldn’t die during my Oaths, even though it was against the rules to interfere.” He gave a dark chuckle. “Rules were for everyone else, not for him.”
His father’s plan to save his life sounded almost like affection, an effort to protect his son from a gruesome fate.
Was it affection when it came to me? Kit must have seen some merit in the process to repeat it now.
He took my mug from the counter and held it out to me while gripping his own in his other hand.
Reluctantly, I took it and squinted down into the black liquid. Kit brewed his coffee strong, and I hoped it would be enough to overpower the taste of what might have been concentrated death. “You haven’t told me what it is,” I said after a pause.
“Poison,” Kit repeated, sounding tired. “Hopefully enough to build up a tolerance over time. We have a few weeks yet, and I hope that’s long enough.”
My laugh betrayed my anxiety. “You sure you aren’t trying to kill me because I kissed you the other night?”
Kit made a choked sound but recovered quickly enough to reply, “I always have my Penny-menacing knife on me.” He gestured to the blade in its plain leather sheath strapped to his belt. “I wouldn’t need poison if I wanted to kill you. Which I don’t.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, staring down into the tainted coffee. “Because I?—”
“I’m sure,” Kit cut in. “I amactivelytrying to keep you alive, and I’m sorry for what that currently entails because drinking this is going to be awful.” He held up his own mug in a sort of mock toast. “Here’s to not dying in a few weeks.”
I raised my cup as well, though with far less resolve. “To not dying,” I echoed, and we drank.
35
Kit
My stomach was already protesting the hemlock by the time we set out for the forge, but at least the mild nausea took some of my mind off the lingering pain from the brand. The salve helped, too, though it didn’t ease any of the dread hanging over me at the prospect of having the apron putting pressure on it for several hours.
Penny was quiet as we walked, curling the leather cover of his sketchbook absently as his eyes swept the frost-crusted rooftops with a focus I was starting to recognize. Inevitably, he’d fill the edges of several pages with drawings of the intricate lacy ice before lunch. His breath clouded the air, and his freckled cheeks were rosy by the time we turned the corner into the square.
It was early enough that there was hardly anyone in the market aside from vendors, but there was a small knot of people gathered outside the canopy of our shop. Merrick was unmistakable in his ceremonial robes despite everyone else being dressed casually, as was Levitt across from himwith his fiery hair, but I didn’t recognize the other three until we got closer. Luca and Matina, the pair who had interrogated Penny and me when we first arrived, flanked Merrick while one of the Sentinels of the Death Watch stood blocking the entrance to the forge.
“This can’t be good,” I muttered.
