Page 28 of Last Rites

“Horrifying,” Kit said softly. “So much worse than anything I imagined.”

When I took a step toward him again, he held up a hand to stop me.

“But you need a bath, and I need to make dinner. I’ll tell you all about it after.”

I detoured back into our room for clean clothes before retreating into the bathroom. The tinderbox for the boiler still glowed orange from Kit’s bath, so I didn’t need to wait for the water to heat. And as I worked the pump and the tub filled, I wondered if I was better off not knowing more than Kit already told me.

10

Kit

The next two weeks were more of the same. I spent my days in the caverns working with Philippa to craft the head of the Vessel, and finished out the afternoons with a report to Klaus in my office. Across the hall, Merrick’s door was perpetually shut.

Meanwhile, Penny toiled at the forge, wilting under the criticism of the new smith. My attempt to talk the man around after the second day Penny came home in tears was met with as much disdain as I was used to getting from Merrick and his ilk. Cedric blamed me for Penny’s ineptitude and disparaged my teaching methods.

He wasn’t wrong about any of it, but it also confirmed my suspicions that my position as Shroud Warden was all but meaningless to everyone but the resistance. Anyone who backed our new Right Hand ranked me somewhere below themselves in the hierarchy. I may as well have been powerless.

That afternoon, it was almost an hour before the end of the work day when Klaus came to fetch me.

“Merrick sent for you,” he said before turning back the way he came, expecting me to follow.

I bid Philippa goodbye and trotted after him, snagging my empty lunch pail on my way through the entry chamber.

He walked ahead of me down the tunnel this time. I was almost used to the crushing darkness and tight quarters, but not being the one holding the torch was disconcerting. What little light spilled past Klaus’s silhouette was barely enough for me to see the floor beneath my feet.

When we emerged into the empty ritual chamber, Klaus placed the torch in its sconce on the back wall, then gestured toward the door.

“Go. The Right Hand is waiting.”

I trudged up the stairs to the top floor where, for the first time since the Ascension, Merrick’s door was open.

He was lounging behind his desk, feet up on edge of it and stump of his arm resting across his thighs. It was bandaged, though not as heavily as the last time I’d seen it. Merrick looked like he was mostly back to normal, too, no longer pale and sickly. His green eyes flicked to me when I stepped inside, and to his credit, he managed not to sneer.

“Ah, Kitingor.” He dropped his feet to the floor and sat forward to prop his elbows on the desktop. “How are you finding your work?”

I wanted to complain that it wasn’t work I should have been doing, but telling him what he already knew wouldn’t help anything. So, I bit back those words and said instead, “I’m sure that’s not why you called me here.”

The hint of a smile—not at all kind—lifted one corner of his lips. “Of course. I wanted to advise you that I’ve sent out messengers to announce the sixth Oath. The initiates will be leaving in the morning. All together.”

Somehow, in the chaos of Levitt’s murder and my rise to Shroud Warden and the shock of how near completion the Vessel was, I’d forgotten that we still had two Oaths left. I didn’t know what either of them were. Merrick’s look of near glee at the mention of the sixth was enough to clue me in that it was something cruel.

“I should be getting home then,” I said. “I’ll need time to pack.”

“Oh, no, you misunderstand.” He gestured to my office across the hall with the stump of his right wrist. “You’ll be staying here. As the Shroud Warden, there’s no point to you finishing your Oaths.”

Penny and I were already spending more time apart than I was comfortable with, and I would be damned if I let Merrick send him away without me, too. Just the idea of Penny on the road with only Rosie and Isla as a buffer between him and Otis was enough to make my stomach twist. I reminded myself that he was capable of defending himself if the need arose, but still, it was an unnecessary risk.

Luckily, Merrick had unwittingly given me the perfect argument against him half a year ago when he’d insisted I redo my first Oath.

“I must disagree,” I replied. “If anything, I think it’s the opposite: finishing my Oaths is vital to my being in this position, as proof of my dedication to Eeus. If exceptions are made to one part of the law”—I fought a grin when his face pinched with recognition—“what will stop others from claiming they’re due exceptions to it, too? It sets a dangerous precedent, Your Eminence. It would be unwise to allow two last Oaths to jeopardize all we’ve built here.”

He narrowed his eyes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to shirk your responsibilities so soon after taking them on.”

“You know as well as I do that the work in the caverns will continue just fine without me. They don’t need my supervision to carry on the work they’ve been doing for decades.” He still looked unconvinced, so I pressed a little harder. “But best we all follow the rules so that your leadership isn’t called into question by your granting concessions to those on the Tribunal. We shouldn’t get special treatment.”

Merrick scowled, but he clearly knew he’d been outsmarted. He didn’t protest further.

I stepped back toward the open door. “If there’s nothing else, I need to get home and pack.”