He did reach toward me, and I flinched as he grabbed the collar of my shirt. He started walking again, this time toward a shaded alley between shops, and dragged me along behind.
“I have earned a position of respect in this place, and you will give me my due,” he said through gritted teeth. “Our familial bond does not exempt you from propriety.”
Stumbling and struggling, I followed him into the narrow space where he gave a shove that nearly sent me headlong into the nearest wall. I staggered again, barely catching myself on the wood-paneled exterior of the neighboring shop. I spun around to find Merrick practically on top of me. He planted his palm in the middle of my chest and drove me backward until I slammed intothe wall, striking shoulder blades first and skull immediately after. Pain bloomed where his fingers caught the edge of my brand, and stars flashed at the edges of my vision.
I sucked a breath to yell at him, but his other hand plunged into my gut, driving out air in a grunt. I doubled over, hugging my arms around my middle while he pressed impossibly close, forcing me upright. I wheezed as he pinned me, his chest against mine, sparking yet more pain as Kit’s borrowed shirt ground fully into my newly burned flesh.
His face hovered beside my ear as he spoke.
“Whatever you have to say, Penwell, I suggest you keep it to yourself. I do not abide those who challenge my authority. Doing so will only make things worse for you and yourfriend.” He sneered the last word, and I squirmed, finally getting my hands up to shove him away.
“Don’t bring Kit into this!” I exclaimed. “It isn’t about him. It’s about the farm, and we both know it.”
Merrick backed a single step, then dusted his palms together. The gesture felt almost symbolic. “I abandoned the farm and everything that came with it. You, your sister, your whore mother…”
Heat surged like fire up my spine. “How dare you call her that! She raised you!”
The fire spread through me, making my fine hairs stand on end and causing sweat to break out all over my body. This was overdue. Since he’d cowed me in the stairwell in the Ossuary and denied knowing me to Levitt, since he’d stolen our father’s body and left me to shoulder the blame.
“And you didn’tabandonthe farm,” I continued. “You demanded it! Nearly drove Father to an earlier grave over it. Because you wanted it for this.” My motion toward thecity square beyond the mouth of the alley made him snort. “You would have given them everything.”
He had already given too much. Things that weren’t his to take or share. How far would it have gone if I hadn’t intervened?
“Because it should have been mine!” he snapped. “Everything you have should have been mine, and I cannot begin to say how much it galled me to see you turn up here, trying to steal this, too.”
“How did I steal from you?” I barked back. “I didn’t want the farm. I don’t want this. I came for Father. That’s all.”
“Then why didn’t you leave? I told you he was gone. I gave him to Eeus.”
He puffed inside his clothes like a preening bird. He was proud, and the thought made me shudder. We were raised in the same home with the same values and beliefs. How could he see things so differently? Did he truly believe he’d done something noble? Honorable? Surely not.
My voice dropped to a growl. “You defiled his body and dishonored his legacy.”
Merrick lunged at me again. “Iamhis legacy, you dunce!”
I didn’t mean to wince or shrink away, but the angrier he got—purple-faced now and looming larger than he really was—the more my fear grew with him. It stole my conviction so it was barely a mumble when I said, “We both are.”
There was venom in my brother’s glare. A predatory glint I knew too well. My stomach ached from his punch, my chest burned, and tears welled in my eyes. I shook myself, trying to rally my fleeting courage as Merrick raged on.
“You were his mistake. All of you were. We were fine,he and I, before you came along. You’re a scourge.” He jabbed a finger into the center of my chest, pushing me back. “Should have never been born.”
“That’s enough.”
I recognized Kit’s voice, but the icy tone was far from conversational. I glanced toward the end of the alley and found him standing as a silhouette, as bristled as Merrick but far brawnier. The sight brought such immediate relief that I sighed.
“There he is.” Merrick snorted. “Your champion.” He turned toward Kit’s approach. “Have you something to add, Mister Koesters? Or perhaps you’ve come to confess and save yourself the shame of being caught out on your seditious intentions.”
Kit stalked forward, his posture rigid. As he neared, his features became clear. They were set as hard as stone, and his dark eyes were narrow. “I did want to confess something, actually,” he said.
Merrick huffed a laugh, casual in contrast to Kit’s glare. “Very good. One of the two of you was bound to have some sense. Come out with it, then. Tell me now, then we’ll take the whole thing to Levitt and decide an appropriate punishment.”
Kit stopped and reached to his belt, pulling out the knife he’d forged before we left Forstford. He raised it to the dim light so the blade glinted. “Since you were counting weapons, I thought you should know about this one. Feel free to add it to your tally.”
His grip on the hilt was tight, knuckles straining, and the way he refused to break eye contact with Merrick sent a very different message than his measured words. I remembered the way he’d opened his door to me the day we first met. The pose here was more relaxed with thedagger turned sideways so as not to suggest a threat, but he didn’t need the weapon to do that.
Merrick’s expression shifted to a scowl, and he rolled his eyes. “Well… Thank you, Mister Koesters. That’s very forthright of you.”
Kit dipped his head in a nod, then slid the dagger into its sheath. “I’ll be sure to inform you of any future orders that could be weaponized,” he told Merrick. “I have worked on a few axe heads. And a rather sharp hoe.”
