The morning we were scheduled to leave Ashpoint for the second Oath, I was up before the sun. There wasn’t anything to be done—we’d finished packing before supper the night before—but lingering nausea from my last dose of hemlock made for a particularly restless night.
With no hope of drifting back off, coffee was in order. It would be a waste to build a fire in the main living area when we would be leaving in a few hours, so warming the kitchen while the coffee steeped would have to serve me well enough. I shuffled to the cookstove with a blanket wound around my shoulders, lit the tinder in the firebox, and was on my second pot of coffee by the time the sun crept over the horizon.
Penny joined me before full light, blinking sleep from his eyes and scrubbing at his mussed hair. He pushed my chair far enough back from the table that he could tuck himself into my lap. Dodging the steaming mug in my left hand, he leaned his head on my shoulder and tugged myfree arm around his waist. Once he was settled, he let out a contented sigh.
“Good morning,” I said through a grin. “There’s coffee on the stove.”
He mumbled something against my neck that sounded vaguely like “later” and snaked his arms around my waist to pull himself closer.
I chuckled and freed my hand from his back to pull the blanket around him. “By all means, make yourself comfortable.”
In the quiet of the kitchen, a faint rattle and wheeze was clearly audible each time he breathed. He’d been up quite a bit in the night, too, fighting coughing fits that spiked my concern about us heading out into the winter chill. His cold had lingered for more than a week already despite our efforts at treatment.
The day after Otis’s unwelcome intrusion at the forge, I’d swallowed my pride in favor of finding something to ease Penny’s symptoms, and made my way to the apothecary. I’d been pleasantly surprised to find Isla there alone and more than happy to help. She loaded me up with elderberry syrup, a jar of honey, and a blend of chamomile and ginger root for tea. Her assurances that it would work wonders for a cough had been encouraging, but the tea had done little more than quiet Penny while he was actively sipping on it.
On top of the cough, he was twice as tired as I was and had been doing half as much work as usual at the forge. Even his baking lessons with Rosie ended up cut short more days than not. If I’d thought we might be granted a stay until he improved, I’d have asked, but with Merrick watching us so closely, I knew Levitt wouldn’t chance showing any signs of favor.
I set my coffee aside and wound my other arm around Penny’s shoulders, resting my head against his. My eyes slid closed, and my own shoulders loosened. Having him close quieted me. And even though I’d planned to make us a hot breakfast before we set out on the road, dozing with him sounded so much better.
When a knock at the door startled me awake some time later, the sun was fully risen and my legs were mostly numb. Penny grumbled and tightened his hold on me when I tried to move.
“As nice as this is, I have to get the door, Pen."
He pulled back, his bottom lip puffed out in a petulant pout that I couldn’t help but kiss.
The person at the door knocked a second time, more insistent, and Penny reluctantly clambered out of my lap. I swung the blanket around his shoulders and hurried into the living room to greet the figure on our front stoop before they knocked a third time.
The messenger dipped their head and gestured behind them. “Good morning, initiate. Be at the gate in a quarter hour. Transportation will be provided.”
When they left, I didn’t bother to lock the door before returning to the kitchen where Penny had taken up my seat, half-sprawled across the table with his head resting on his folded arms. Passing by him, I paused to press the back of my hand to his forehead, checking for a fever.
He peeled one eye open and squinted up at me.
“Time to head out,” I explained, satisfied that if he had a temperature, it was only a mild one.
Then it was to the sink to dump my lukewarm coffee and the last dregs in the pot. I gave both mug and pot a quick wash to ensure neither molded while we were gone,and by the time I was done, Penny had dragged himself to standing.
“No breakfast?” he asked.
I chuckled. “We slept through it. We’ll have to eat on the road.”
We made it to the front gate in the allotted time, though Penny lagged behind, fighting jaw-creaking yawns. Thoma stood off to one side, directing other initiate pairs toward the five horse-drawn carts lined up against the outer wall. He waved when he caught sight of us.
The others had dispersed by the time we reached him, and he greeted us with a grin.
“Saved the best one for the two of you.” He gestured for us to follow him to the stocky old chestnut at the far end of the line of horses. He snuck her a cookie from his pocket while rubbing his other palm over the swirl of white on her forehead. “This is Betty. She’s my favorite.” He leaned in closer to Penny and me and dropped his voice. “Just don’t tell the other horses. They might get jealous.”
“Thought you’d give Reimond the best one,” I said while holding out my hand for the mare to sniff.
His lips pursed, and he handed me another cookie to feed Betty. “I would have, but not with Anders joining him.” His eyes cut over to where the man in question was currently trying to pull down the head of a large gray roan that stubbornly refused to give in. “So, I left them with Flint. He’ll give Anders nothing but shit, but he’s sweet as pie for Reimond.”
Penny snickered and moved in to fuss over the horse, and I took his pack to toss both his and mine into the bed of the cart.
“We’ll take good care of her,” I promised.
Thoma’s smile returned, and he patted my arm. “I know you will. Good luck out there. Come back in one piece.”
“That’s the plan.”
