I followed his gaze. The snow hadn’t stopped, the howling wind swirling it into a near-blinding cyclone. I didn’twantto go out in it, but it would be worth it to hand over proof that we didn’t need to wait eight more months to replace Merrick.
“It’s not a long walk,” I said. Penny looked unconvinced, so I tugged his face around to steal a kiss. “Then when I get back, you can warm me up.”
His mouth hung open and his eyes stayed wide as I pulled away to stand. I tucked the two relevant journals under my arm and stepped into my boots. Penny had recovered by the time I swung my cloak around my shoulders, and he joined me by the front door, fussing my hands away so he could tie the lace at my throat.
“I’ll make lunch,” he said with his fingers lingering on the edges of my hood. “So hurry back.”
“You’ll hardly have time to miss me.” I leaned down for a parting kiss before pushing out into the cold.
The snow skittered and swirled through the cobbled streets, gathering in the corners and against walls in tiny drifts. It stung my eyes even with my hood tugged down low over my face the whole way to the Ossuary.
When I stepped into the building, the chill trailed me through the atrium to where the usual pair sat at either end of the long table, bundled in cloaks and hats. They waved me up the stairs, and I watched my breath cloud the air as I climbed to the closed door of Levitt’s chambers on the top floor.
I knocked, and after a few moments the door swung inward, letting out a rush of heat that set my nose running.Levitt grinned at the sight of me and beckoned me in with the stump of his right arm.
“Hurry up before all the heat escapes,” he said, and I was happy to do as I was told.
I made my way to the fireplace where I warmed my hands while he closed the door.
“What brings you out in this weather?” he asked, settling into the chair behind his desk.
“I found some things that might interest you.” Reluctantly, I dragged myself away from the fire and pulled the journals from beneath my cloak. “We may be able to shorten the timeline and move forward with your plan.”
Levitt leaned back in his chair with a wan smile. “It’s never just a social call with you.”
Guilt twinged as I set the journals on the desk in front of him. Levitt considered me one of his oldest friends, and though we’d been close growing up, it was hard to see him now as anything more than a connection to be exploited.
Neither of us had fit in well here as children. I was too soft, and he was too docile, mild to a fault. We found solace in each other’s company and—when we managed to spend time together without his sadistic twin sister—frequently talked about what we’d do if we found our way outside Ashpoint’s walls. When I was fourteen and he was seventeen, I convinced him to make a plan with me to escape together. That ended in disaster when my father discovered us, and it was all I could do to make sure that when he caught me, he didn’t spot Levitt huddled in the shadows behind me. I took sole responsibility for the plot and its shameful execution because I couldn’t bear to see Levitt punished for my idea.
Three years later, I abandoned Ashpoint. At first, I thought about Levitt following my lead,showing up one day to tell me about his own escape. We’d talked about it after that first attempt, and agreed that if one of us got the chance to leave, we’d take it. Whoever was left behind would follow when they could. We designated a mission outside Emberstead as our waypoint. A place we could leave word to let the other know where to find us.
But the hope that he’d join me like we agreed didn’t last. He may have dreamed of a life on the other side of these walls, but not the same way I did. For him, it was idle wonder, the same way someone might dream of leaving their small town to see the world before coming back to settle for good. For me, it was the only thing that kept me going. Levitt was content to stay, but I knew that staying would eventually mean my death.
I wanted to trust him now like I had then, but our visions for the Bone Men weren’t the same. He was shepherding us into an age of strife, and I planned to burn it all down before we reached that end.
“I’m sorry,” I said once the quiet between us had stretched on too long. And Iwassorry, not just for visiting him strictly on business, but for everything else too.
He waved his hand. “It’s fine. I’m teasing.” His eyes dropped to the journals, and he opened the first cover. “What am I looking at here?”
Leaning across the desk, I turned to the marked page and pointed at the journal entry. “This first.”
As he read, his brows pinched together until a deep wrinkle formed between them. When he reached the bottom of the page, he cast a sympathetic glance at me. Clearly, he remembered Clover’s death as well as I did.
“You read this?” he asked. Concern edged his voice.
I turned away to pace toward the windows and avoid having to see his pity as I answered. “I read enough.”
“Kit…”
I leaned against the windowsill and folded my arms over my chest, letting the pain from my healing brand distract me from the memories. His face reflected in the glass, wearing the same sort of expression Penny turned on me whenever he stumbled across one of the many awful things my father wrote in those pages.
“It was a long time ago, Levitt.”
He made a soft sound that was all the proof I needed that he didn’t buy for a moment that I was unbothered by the reminder of the traumatic loss.
I pressed on. “The important thing iswhymy father did what he didwhenhe did. They made him a Sentinel years before he completed his Oaths. And that’s not all.” I glanced back at him over my shoulder. “The marked page in the other one has the rest.”
“Where did you get these?” he asked as he flipped open the second book.
